#a very very tentative i am active and alive

[jinxed-games]

Breaking a long hiatus to share the ROs made in the new dragon's dogma character creator. Giving you guys screenshots with two different lighting options just cause I went ham. I'll be taking down the previous portraits in favor of these in the next few days so if you're particularly attached I recommend saving them.

In order of appearance: The Mage, Nb!Royal & F!Royal, Alistair, Maeve, Dorin, Kyrin, Keela, and The Oracle

Under the cut will be the same screenshots with warmer campfire lighting

#RoE #RO portraits #a very very tentative i am active and alive #my last semester of graduation kicked my ass #and very little got done #but i'm very slowly working my way to being in a situation where i can write and be more active here on tumblr #until then take this as an apology and mayhaps food #all ros #also the Royal? i did not know how much they remind me of Cole until now

[buckys-little-belle]

Hi!! I love your story’s and am always looking for little and daddy Bucky story’s!! I was wondering if you could do insecure reader who’s bigger. She has bigger thighs a bigger tummy and face. Could you do reader is scared to sit on buckys lap or for him to pick her up and carry her around the house. She’s too scared she’s heavy and will crush him and his legs. or that he will drop her because she’s too big. She also never cuddles and sleeps with him in his room always sleeping in her room after he puts her to bed because she’s scared about her breathing or how she sleeps.

Bucky gets her to tell him why and then comfort. Just fluff fluff fluff. If your not comfortable writing this I totally understand!!! If you do could you ad paci use? Thank you!!! Sorry for the rambling…

Strongest Man Alive

Bucky Barnes x Plus Sized!Little!Reader (She/Her Pronouns Used)

Notes - This is not my best work, and has been in my drafts for MONTHS, it's something cute, and a little angsty at the beginning, but it does get super fluffy at the end. It's a little bit different than my usual writting style, so I apologize for that, but I do hope you like it and if not I'm so sorry! I hope I did this ask justice, and I hope everyone is having a good week!!! <3

Warnings - Talks of reader being self conscious for being 'bigger', kept very vague as she uses the words "heavy" and "squishy" to describe her body type instead of more concrete descriptions, the use of a pacifier is very brief as it's something I'm not used to writing, though I would be willing to continue, mentions of reader eating food "snacks" and "sandwich" though never specified, FLUFF at the end, but there is a moment of angst, I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS A COHEARANT STORY, it's from the drafts and I gave it a once over and I think it's 'good enough' so I apologize if it's terrible <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

Y/n often spent their time at the Avengers tower sitting, standing, lingering around Bucky Barnes. It wasn't on purpose, the man just seemed to be the other half of some magnet imbedded deep in Y/n's heart. He just had some ability to pull her towards him.

Maybe it was the way he cut her sandwiches into perfect triangles, or the way his hand always found hers when she got scared. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be reserved around anyone but her that made her feel so connected to him.

He never sulked but always seemed to walk around with a frown stuck on his face, only ever changing it to a smile when she walked by his office or stopped by his room.

As much as Y/n felt like she was pulled to him, Bucky felt it multiplied by 100. His hands always aching to hold hers, his chest always feeling heavy when he began to think about her needing something and him not being around to help her.

The whole tower knew about Y/n's regression. Wanda and Peter often joined in, hanging out in little space and colouring in books Tony had provided, watching whatever new animated movie had just come out and sleeping over in makeshift tents in the living room.

Often other Avengers would help supervise activities, Steve loved playing action fighters in the common areas, Nat loved cuddle puddle on the couch, and Thor was always ready for a park day. Bucky on the other hand liked to stay in the shadows, buying stickers for the group of littles, making them lunch and dropping it off.

Bucky only stuck around if Y/n asked him to hang out with her. "Bucky can you hold my hand?" She had asked him when at the park, he of course grabbed her hand and helped her up the jungle gym.

"Bucky can you open this please?" She had whispered during a movie, her baggie full of snacks too difficult to manage on her own. He opened the baggie and held it in his own grasp, handing her a piece of candy anytime she had finished the previous one.

"Bucky will you colour with me?" She had yelled her ask one day when he was passing by the kitchen, Y/n sat at the island with markers scattered across the marble. He silently sat down and diligently coloured the page she had given him, helping her chase markers that had fallen.

He knew she was comfortable asking for what she wanted, and he knew she wasn't afraid of him ... so, it made his chest tighten every time she asked him to grab something from the top shelf instead of asking to be lifted like Wanda and Peter often asked.

He also felt off every time a little would come running out of their room after a nightmare, rushing into someone's room for a cuddle, yet Y/n's door never opened and neither did his.

Bucky was sure it was his fault she didn't seek him out for cuddles, he thought he had done something wrong when she never asked for a hug. Was it his arm? Was she scared he would turn on her? He couldn't figure it out.

That is until he realised she never asked anyone for a cuddle, or a hug. Nat, Wanda, and Peter would be all comfy on the couch and Y/n would be sat on the chair, a small frown on her face yet she never tried to find a spot next to her friends. And when she scraped her knee on the playground she declined Thor's offer of a "healing" hug.

"Y/n?" His voice was quiet but direct as he called out into the playroom, Y/n sat on the softly coloured rug, her stuffed animals scattered about.

"Hi Bucky!" She smiled, her pacifier tumbling out of her mouth and onto the ground.

"Hi." He sat down across from her, quickly pocketing the fallen pacifier before sought out the, now, dirty thing. "What are you playing?" His hands brushed a stuffed teddy, Y/n tilting her head in confusion as she looked around her.

"'m just dressen 'm up." She smiled at him, grabbing a stuffed unicorn and brushing it's fur back into place, shuffling closer to Bucky as she gathered a few other stuffed animals.

The moment her knees hit his she shifted back, so Bucky shifted his towards her again. Like clockwork she moved and left a small gap between them. "Y/n?"

"Mhm." She looked back at him, her smile one he could easily read through.

"Am I scary?" He asked calmly, not once loosing eye contact as she shook her head 'no'. "Do I smell?" He asked, this time with a laugh.

"No!" She giggled.

"Then why do you run every time I touch you." Instead of answering she bowed her head, hands running over the stuffed animal anxiously. "Why don't you hug Wanda or Peter?" He was worried that all the questions would make her want to run, but as she huffed and leaned into his space slightly he continued. "I know Thor was pretty sad when you declined his hug the other day." That one wasn't a lie, the man had gone on a rant about how he thought he had done something wrong, how he was sure Y/n hated him.

"I jus', I don' want them t' be mad." She admitted, huffing at the end of her sentence. "'m jus', 'm heavy, an' squishy. Wanda and Pete aren't heavy an' squishy." She admitted, eyes locked on the wall, the stuffed unicorn held a little closer to her body.

"What do you mean Baby?" Bucky asked, confused as to what she was alluding to.

"It's harder t' pick me up." She finally looked back at him, tears beginning to gather along her waterline. "And cuddling wif me wouldn' be th' same." She shrugged, trying to play it off like she wasn't bothered by her own words.

The tightness in Bucky's chest didn't ease up with his answer, his worry only growing. He had hoped it was an easy thing to fix, yet knowing Y/n didn't hug her friends, or him, because she felt too big made him hurt. "Baby," He began, not giving Y/n a second to doubt him, he picked her up and sat her in his lap. "you aren't 'too heavy' to pick up." He hated how quickly she curled into his chest, how clear it was that she was missing human connection. "I'm the strongest man alive, and you saying that you're too heavy is going to bruise my ego a bit, Baby." They both laughed, a few of Y/n's tears hitting the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

"I thought Steve was th' strongest man alive?"

"I let him win when we arm wrestle." Bucky admitted, causing Y/n to break out into a fit of giggles.

"'m gonna tell him!" She stood up, bolting for the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bucky ran after her, lifting her off her feet in the middle of the hallway, Y/n pausing with a gasp, bracing for the two of them to fall, yet laughing along with Bucky as jostled her around, threatening to take her new colouring page off the fridge if she told anyone his secret.

After a pinky promise and some juice Y/n began to trust Bucky a little bit more. She let him pick her up at the playground, and gave him a hug before bed every night. She still worried her hugs were 'bad', that maybe no one would want to hug her because she wasn't 'little' but Bucky never once complained, instead asking for hugs in the morning too.

It took her a while to truly trust that Bucky wasn't lying when he said his back didn't hurt after picking her up, but eventually she became comfortable enough to run and jump into his arms, something she had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't until a month later that Bucky woke up at 4 am to the sound of Y/n's hurried footsteps rushing to his door. Light creeping in from the opened door she didn't close as she ran to his bed. The sound of soft cries and whispers of "Nightmare" filling the usually quiet space.

Instead of letting her think too much about how she 'should' be cuddling, Bucky just scooped her up and tucked her into his bed, letting her know he'd protect her, and her stuffed animal. He liked having her in his room, it made him feel at ease knowing she was close.

After a few months of staying in Bucky's room, Y/n began to get out of her shell a bit more, hugging Wanda and Peter, and eventually accepting Thor's 'healing' hugs. She finally joined in during the weekly cuddle puddle, laughing along side Nat and her friends as they all got cozy on the couch. And for the first time ever she let someone else, the second strongest man alive, Steve Rogers pick her up. A pride filled movement the man would never forget.

Even though it took her a little longer than everyone else to be comfortable hugging and snuggling, she was happy to finally be apart of the group in ways she wasn't before. Bucky, the man who still often stayed in the shadows, helping from a distance, couldn't help but feel a little lighter every time he saw his girl get over her worries, knowing if anything got to be 'too much' she'd come running to him.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #little!reader #age regression fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky x little!reader #bucky

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

A Jester's Token

HEY SO. I wrote a thing. Based on @oblivionsdream's Knight/Jester OCs, who are SUPER AMAZING, which you can find here.

Thank you for your wonderful art!! And also accidentally inspiring a jester obsession in me 🤡

No warnings, contains a little suggestiveness, 3.4k words 💖

*

The grounds were alive with activity. The King doted upon his sons, and now with his second eldest’s twentieth birthday only a scant few days away, the celebrations were in full swing.

The prince, as was his wont, had demanded a tournament to celebrate the day of his birth. The King, as always, had been unable to refuse. And the Knight was looking forward to a week of respite; of celebration and jousting and fun instead of training and war council meetings.

Typically, he tried to remain impassive and stoic with his fellow knights. It was what was expected of him as the King’s champion, after all, and besides: it added an edge to his demeanour that meant orders were obeyed. The other knights weren’t to know that beneath his shining, shuttered helm he was wondering if the stable cat had birthed her kittens yet.

Still he kept his head high as he strode across the grounds, heading towards the armoury where he had left his sword that morning to be honed and polished. Several other knights turned to glance at him as he passed: one, he noticed, standing immediately to attention as he did.

The deference was useful, he supposed, but he hoped it did not extend to the tournament itself. It would be a dull affair if everybody he encountered was afraid of the King’s champion knight.

As he approached the armoury, a familiar noise perked up his ears. He found his steps faltering, his sure stride suddenly broken.

Not everybody was afraid of him.

He turned just in time to see the grinning face of the Jester as he sauntered over, his motley - brand new for the tournament in festive greens and reds - lit up in the dazzling summer sunshine. His hair haloed from his head, sticking in yellow waves from beneath his cap’n’bells. His eyes - startlingly bright, one dark, one nearly gold - shone with excitement. 

“Good morning, Sir!” he said cheerily, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Lovelier for you, the Knight didn’t say.

“It is indeed,” he said. “Perfect for a tournament.”

“Perfect for a party,” the Jester countered. “I called into the ale tent on the way here, have you seen how stocked it is? Forget the tournament, I fear our Lord means to drown us. Can you swim in that?” he pinged a fingernail against the Knight’s plate.

The Knight rolled his eyes, forgoing a response.

“Although,” the Jester continued merrily, “I must admit, these events always make me laugh.”

“Oh?”

“Come,” the Jester said, “Oh ho - here I am, the picture of virile manhood! Beware my powerful—” he gave a short, sharp thrust. “Lance.”

The Knight bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing. “You have a filthy mind.”

“You should hear me talk about maypoles.”

“I would really rather not.”

“I can do some wonderful things with ribbons, you know.”

“Anything useful in a tournament?” 

“Depends what you need,” the Jester said, catching him with a sidelong glance. “I’m very good with knots.”

The Knight swallowed, saying nothing.

“Well!” The Jester said, clearly unphased. “I am afraid I am wanted by— well, by everyone. Which makes it such a shame that I’d rather spend my morning following you around. Nevermind.” His smile twitched a little, before settling back into a grin. “Good luck, my Knight!”

And with that, he was off. The Knight watched him leave, swaying through the crowds with his typically fluid movement. While the Knight would be entering competitions, the Jester would be entertaining in a much different way: joking and turning somersaults and charming the King and his guests. He even had a role in the joust alongside the announcer, riling up the crowds and mocking the competitors.

With luck, the Knight would be able to watch him perform. He enjoyed watching the Jester show off, and he loved his jokes, not that he would ever allow the Jester himself to realise that. The first time they had met he’d been forced to remove himself lest he make an utter fool of himself, and since then the Jester had taken him as a challenge, when he wasn’t making a game of flirting with him.

With a sigh, and a final glance at the Jester’s departing figure, he walked on towards the armoury. He noticed Sir Rowan lingering just outside, standing beside Lady Felicity - one of the Queen’s Ladies in Waiting. Without thinking, he called out a greeting to his fellow knight.

As he approached, he realised far too late that what he thought was simply a polite conversation between knight and lady was something far more intimate. Sir Rowan’s head was tilted just so, Lady Felicity leaning in a little too close. Their hands, he realised, were linked.

Shit. But it was too late now; he had already hailed Sir Rowan and he couldn’t very well turn heel and run. Lady Felicity quickly snatched her hands away, her face mottling in a sweet, pink blush before giving him a slightly lopsided curtsey, bidding them both farewell and quickly rushing off. 

As The Knight drew closer, he noticed a scrap of fabric clasped in Rowan’s hand. He pretended not to have seen it as Rowan quickly tucked it into his breastplate.

A favour, then. He hadn’t realised that Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity were courting; although most of their time spent together would have been at banquets and feasts, where the Knight’s attention was more often than not focused on their entertainment and very little else. It was terribly improper to ask Sir Rowan for more information. Even as his friend, he would not push for information too intimate to share; certainly not while Rowan and Lady Felicity were still in the first, tentative steps of the most delicate of dances. 

He engaged Rowan in brief conversation, deeply aware of the moment he had managed to ruin. He wished him good luck - making him blush - then headed inside the armoury where he collected his sword.

He couldn't help but peer back as he left. Rowan, now alone, had taken the favour from his breastplate and was tugging it through his fingers. It appeared to be cream-coloured silk: a handkerchief or scarf, perhaps. Rowan's face had gone red.

Something tugged in the Knight's chest. It was a sweet, deeply romantic gesture. It would leave Rowan with no doubt at all about Lady Felicity’s intentions towards him. And, of course, it was furiously lucky: any man blessed with such a token would be sure to do well, especially from one they loved.

The tugging grew more urgent, joined by a leaden feeling in the Knights stomach. He would have no such token. Oh, he was sure that many members of the court would accept him should he attempt to woo them - courtly favours included - but it wasn't any of them he really wanted.

“I would rather spend my day following you around.”

The Knight’s face heated beneath the metal. His heart swelled. Whatever the Jester’s intentions towards him, his feelings were not the sort that spurred a man to give a love token. His were the feelings that spurred a quick fumble behind the stables - perhaps several quick fumbles, judging by the lewdness of the Jester’s tongue. It was no more than that.

Or, more likely, it was even less than that. The Knight was aware of the reputation he had carefully curated at court, and he knew that the Jester had taken him as a challenge. He was just another joke. The Jester had never even seen his face, hadn't seen the scars, didn't know the stories behind them.

He was just teasing.

The Knight tried to shake the thought from his head, fluttering the great plume that burst from the crown of his helm. Chasing such thoughts - be they of fumbles or fools - would get him unseated in the joust and begging for mercy in the duel.

He turned towards the stables, trudging down the muddy path. The earth had been turned by the sheer volume of guests and carts and horses, and was now a sucking, muddy mess. 

There was an oddly metallic clink beneath his boot. He paused. He lifted his foot. In the centre of a perfect footprint was a mud-splattered, but unmistakably golden, bell.

There was only one person who wore bells like that.

The Knight picked it up without thinking, desperately wishing he had something to clean it with. He rubbed off as much muck as he could with a fingertip, watching as it glinted in the light. As he turned it in his hand - terribly small against his huge palm - it jingled merrily.

He swallowed and closed his fingers around it, squeezing it tight.

The stables would wait. As a high-ranking man, he had been given a private tent on the edge of the grounds - somewhere he could clean and rest without traipsing through the castle to his chambers. He headed there, pulling the flaps tight shut behind him before unfurling his hand.

The bell had left a neat little indent in his palm. A curving, teasing smile embedded into his skin.

He placed it reverently on the wooden table at the far side of the tent before shooting a final, nervous glance towards the entry. And then he removed his helm.

The air felt cool and good against his burning cheeks. He shook out his hair, tied into a low queue to keep it out of his face, and stared down at the bell. It felt as if it were the only object in the room; perhaps the world.

Mindlessly, he took the cloth he used to tend his sword from the chest beside the table and gently began to clean the little golden thing. Mud had even managed to get inside the bell, and he carefully cleaned away as much as he could until it was shining and jingling once more.

He rolled it in his palm. It felt hot, like a tiny lump of coal, like a nugget of forge-warmed iron.

The Knight thought of Sir Rowan and Lady Felicity.

He would need luck, after all. Skill he had in abundance, but luck? Luck was harder to judge; a tip of the scales that, at present, could fall either way.

Of course, traditionally, a token needed to be a gift. But many Knights - both in tournaments and in battle - found luck where they could snatch it. A sword that had never slipped from their grasp, a tunic worn during a lucky win, a shield taken to war that deflected a killing blow. Perhaps a bell - so small and yet so weighty - could be like those. It was luck, after all, that helped him find it when so many people had stepped over it.

He turned back to the chest and searched through it until he found what he was looking for; the spare ties he kept on hand in case his snapped during the tournament. He typically used them to fasten his gauntlets, and while it was thin the leather was tough and sturdy: perfect for what he needed. Carefully, he threaded the bell onto the strap, ensured it wouldn’t slip off and then twisted the strap around the hilt of his sword, securing it tight.

The Knight gave the sword an experimental shake. The bell jingled against the hilt. He didn’t bother to suppress his smile: it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. The noise set a thrill through him. He would be the first to admit that he was not a musical man, but the ringing of the little bell felt like an angelic chorus just for him.

Besides, he thought, as he sheathed the sword once more: if it didn’t bring him luck, the noise may distract an opponent long enough for him to land a good hit.

He took a few moments to gather himself, taking a long drink of water from the jug atop the table, wiping down his face, and re-tying his hair before donning his helm once more. He pulled on his gloves, too, and now with his hand now gripped tight around the hilt of his sword, he exited the tent.

Outside, the noise was growing more urgent as more people gathered to watch the show. Now buoyed by the token hanging from his sword, he strode with pride towards the centre of the grounds where he intended to take part in the first single-combat duel of the day. It was likely still a little early, but no doubt he wouldn’t be the only one keen to begin and could at least find someone to spar against to pass the time.

He was dodging around a lad from the kennels and a pack of exuberant dogs when he heard a shout from behind.

“Knight! My Knight!”

He hastily shoved his sword behind his back as he turned, watching the Jester bounce across the field towards him. 

“I need your skills,” he said, as he slid smoothly to a halt beside him.

“Oh?” The Knight was glad for his helmet, now: the jester couldn’t see him blush.

“Have you seen a bell?” The Jester tugged at the frontmost horn of his cap, which was indeed bell-less. “I’m missing one.”

The Knight gripped his sword harder. He could feel the distinct shape of the bell through his gloves, praying it would not ring and give him away.

“No,” he said, his face so hot he was amazed his helm did not begin to steam, “I cannot say I have.”

“Oh.” The Jester gave him a crestfallen look that was so heartbreakingly sincere that for a moment, the Knight nearly relented. “I suppose it will turn up… or the King will fund me for another, I am sure.”

His eyes darted down, as if taking the Knight in for the first time. His expression turned dark. The Knight found himself standing a little straighter.

“And where are you off to, my chivalrous wonder? That’s—” he peered around the Knight’s back, “—an extremely long sword you have there.”

The Knight rolled his eyes, not that the Jester could see the gesture.

“You have realised,” he said, keeping his tone even, “where we are, yes?”

The Jester gave a dramatic twirl as if assessing his surroundings. “We are standing in the mud,” he grinned.

“Typically,” the Knight said, ignoring him, “A Knight takes part in a tournament. I intend to test my luck in the duel.”

“Luck?” The Jester said, “Not skill? Although—” he gave him another of those long looks, “—I suspect you have plenty of skill in swordplay.”

He gave the Knight a tight, cattish smile, his tongue wetting his lips as he waited for the Knight to respond. The Knight, once he had finally regained control of his lips, could only manage a single word.

“Quite.”

“Well,” the Jester grinned cockily. “I would surely love to see you in action. Lead on, good Sir Knight.”

The Jester looped his hand around his arm, gripping him tight. The Knight was utterly unable to resist, lost in a sudden moment of deep regret that he was so armoured, unable to feel that touch against his skin. 

Arm in arm they headed across the grounds towards the ring. The Jester joked and chatted and flirted as they walked, commenting again on that marvellously large blade, but the Knight could barely hear him over the rush of his own spinning thoughts.

He kept his free hand gripped on the sword, over the bell. The Jester couldn’t know.

The Jester finally released him as they reached the ring. Even though the touch had been to the plate steel of his armour and not the skin beneath, the Knight still missed having him hanging from his arm.

“You better win,” he said, stepping back. “There are a dozen other things I could be doing right now, and I refuse to tie my lot to a man who cannot even win a duel for me.”

The Knight’s heart stuttered in his chest. For me. The Jester was watching him, expectantly. And then his eyes widened, as if remembering something.

“Of course!” He said, face splitting into a grin. “You need a token. As you said, to give you luck enough to win. Ah— here…” he reached up, and before the Knight could stop him pulled another bell from his hat. “What’s another bell?” he said with a shrug. “I was lopsided anyway. Here…”

He produced a silk ribbon as if from nowhere, quickly looped it through the bell, and tied it with swift, dexterous fingers to the Knight’s belt.

“There,” he said. “I told you I was good with knots. Now you’ll win.”

The Jester stretched up on the tip of his bell-topped toes, placed a hand to the Kight’s shoulder for balance, and flicked his helmet’s plume with a single, long finger.

“Good luck.”

And with no warning at all, he placed a kiss to the warm metal of the Knight’s helm. Beneath, the Knight felt as if he could no longer breathe, his heart launching a battle of its own.

“I…” he said, gathering himself. “Thank you.”

The Jester gave him another grin, trailing a finger across the spot where his lips had been moments before.

“You’re welcome.”

***

The Jester leaned casually against a stack of crates, watching the Knight perform with genuine interest. The interest, of course, had very little to do with the fight itself - he wanted him to win, sure, but the minutiae of the fight were nothing compared to the strength of his arms, the broadness of his shoulders, or the exceptional noises he made when he struck a particularly good hit.

He fiddled mindlessly with one of the horns of his cap as he watched the Knight take another decisive swing. A hint of gold glinted through the air as he did, catching the light like a comet.

The Jester grinned to himself. No wonder his Knight was being so stiff as they walked towards the ring. What a sneaky little secret; not the sort he had come to expect from him. It was amusing, and quite sweet, too. Anyone would be lucky to have the Knight be their champion, to have him take their token. But the one he had chosen - the one he had taken for himself - was little more than a minstrel’s bell.

He was glad he had stumbled upon the thought to give him a token himself. Now the Knight would know that he would have given him one, had he asked, and even better: now he had twice the luck.

The Knight swung around again, the bell jingling, harmonising with the one the Jester himself had tied to his hip.

Thrice the luck, the Jester thought, if you counted the kiss.

The Knight ducked, dodged and lunged. The Jester watched, lips quirked into a smile.

When the Knight won - a feat which did not surprise the Jester at all - he straightened up, set his shoulders, and looked towards him.

And then his helm snapped down, taking in the hilt of his sword and the bell hanging from it. The Jester was almost surprised that he couldn’t see the Knight blush through his helmet.

The Jester too glanced downwards to the hilt of the sword. He let his gaze linger there. Then he dragged his eyes up, up the Knight’s body, over his chest, to the place where he desperately wished he could properly see his eyes.

He heaved himself away from the crates and waved. The Knight sagged, only a little. A small moment of recognition and relief. A spark of understanding, shared between them.

But the Jester could not stand there all day, no matter how much he wanted to. He shot the Knight another grin - his best grin, saved just for him - blew him a kiss, and swayed away towards the ale tent.

#fanfic #writing #my writing #oblivionsdream #knight/jester #this is what happens when you write a book about a tournament #it gets stuck in your head #and then you cant write about anything else

[fxlling13]

Just before I get into the story I would like to explain a few things. Originally, I wrote this story on wattpad. It did quite well on there and, seeing as it is unfinished, I thought I would; rewrite, improve and upload it here chapter by chapter. In this version, im going to be uploading a prologue first in the 3rd person eith the rest of the chapter's being in your (the readers) pov. So, I hope you enjoy my story.

For You

13th doctor x female reader

Synopsis: The doctor finds you on her first outing in her new body. But who are you? And how will you impact each others lives.

Prologue:

Sunlight shone down harshly on the desert like planet below. Looking up to the sky, the doctor sighed and looked at her new gang. Only two-three days into a new regeneration and she had already found herself friends. Hopefully this incarnation would be more open than the last (she hoped anyway).

"Those suns are starting to set. They're moving way faster than I realised. "She told the others absently, not really paying attention to detail until Graham piped up.

"Well, back in the tent, that bloke Ilin said do not travel by night." Realising he was right, she nodded to herself. Nothing could ever be simple.

"We need to move, fast." The doctor stated only for the group to turn around and come face to face with a group of armed, inhuman creatures.

"Whoa! They weren't there when we came in." Graham stumbled back slightly in shock .

"Where did they come from?" Ryan shouted out to no one in particular. Pulling her sonic out the blonde, scanned over them rapidly.

"I don't know. "Her voice was calm but, in actuality, the doctor was panicking and she hated that. Yasmin groaned angrily and looked at her for a way out of this. After all, the humans were only there due to a fault in the doctors original method.

"Oh, my God, Doctor!"

"So much for no life forms on this planet." Looking at them The eldest began to explain , or rather try to.

"They're not alive. They're robot guards. Why would you need robot guards on a deserted planet? Good news is, they're not fully active. So, what we all need to do is very slowly, totally unthreateningly, back out of here."

From inside they suddenly heard the sound of two guns going off within seconds of each other. There was no guessing it was Epzo's doing. Being so aloof, he had probably got himself shot in the progress. However, the robots gears began to turn and they came to life in less than a second.

"Argh! They've been activated! Run!" The doctor yelled and began to rush past the armed robots.

"Move! Move, everyone! Come on!"

Graham encouraged everyone as the others followed. But the robots were too smart.

"Ah! Ah! Swerve! Don't run straight. They're predicting our path! In here!" The doctors voice echoed in the small space as she tumbled into the room that looked like a shooting range. After making sure everyone was in and the guards had lost them, the doctor let out a breath. Waving her hand, she leant against the wall.

"Sit, catch your breath." Not needing to be told twice, Ryan flopped down with a groan.

"You are so dramatic." Yaz scoffed, joining him in a calmer manner. Graham laughed at the younger man's face, he looked deeply offended.

"I am not dramatic."

"You so are." The doctor watched them bicker affectionately and smiled. She loved humans and all their weird little quirks. Gazing ahead, she took in the state of the room. It was big, empty and extremely dusty. Some of the targets had dents and holes from bullets and blasts. At some point, there was working lights on the ceiling. Now, however, there was big gaps or smashed glass in place of them. Also, it was so quiet. So still. In fact, the place looked like it had been barren for many years. Who knows how long. From the corner of her eye, the doctor saw something. Only slight movement, but still, something. Maybe it was sone sand falling. No, it couldn't be. There was a noise, subtle but defensive there.

"Shush.." She muttered, swearing that she'd heard a small cry. Which, should have neen impossible. Why would anyone be there? When the group didn't go quiet as the doctor needed, she huffed and turned to them.

"I said shut up!" And they stopped. Hearing another whimper she put a finger to her lips, signalling for them to be silent as she approached the noise. Behind a pillar, in the corner of the room, sat a huddled figure. Their face buried into their knees. 

"Hey..."The Doctor tried to sound gentle as she sat on her knees in front of the person. They whimpered and tried to get even further away. She frowned, sensing the fear this person was radiating. It took a minute, but she eventually spoke, trying hard not to spook them.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Can you look at me? Maybe we could help you?" After a few seconds the person finally lifted their face. The Doctors eyes softened as she saw all the deep wounds. Some looking old, some fresh. It was a girl. A young girl. Her face was cut up badly in some places. Neck covered in dark bruises, she was trembling and trying to hide as much of herself as possible.

"Oh I am so sorry sweetheart. Can you tell me your name?" She looked at them clearly scared. Her eyes almost shook in fear. The doctor could feel her hearts constricting. Or, maybe, that was the pent up regeneration energy. Sure, she had fainted but it was barely any time to recharge.

"Its (y/n)." A cut by her mouth opened up and began to bleed as she spoke.

"Gosh, you're really beaten up. We can help. I promise you." The doctor smiled warmly, gently wiping the blood away. The two locked eyes, the doctor instantly feeling a sense of knowing.

"Doc I don't mean to alarm you but they're nearly here." Graham spoke gently . Probably trying not to scare (y/n).

"Ok ok. Quick introduction then. This is graham, Yaz and Ryan. Oh and I'm the doctor." She nodded startled with how quick they were going.

"Can you walk?" Yaz asked her, offering a smile as well. (Y/n) thought for a moment before attempting to move. Very slowly, she got to her feet. Just as she took a step, her knees gave out. The doctor was quick to react, catching her instantly.

"Is it okay if I pick you up?" Shyly, the girl nod, allowing the doctor to lift her gently.

(Y/n)'s arms wrapped around the tallers neck, the doctors arms holding her up with ease.

"Want one of us to help doc?" Graham asked as they headed towards the exit. Glaring slightly, the timelord shook her head.

"No. She's fine with me." Taking the hint. He simpered and nod. All the while, (y/n) let her head rest upon the doctors chest, listening to her heartbeat. Wait, no. Heartbeats.

#doctor who #doctor who x y/n #the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Ur so pretty (WIP)

UPDATE AS OF 4/2/24: IF UR READING THIS BUT HAVENT SEEN THE WHOLE FIC HERE IT IS- it is also on AO3 on the same name. Thank you!!

A/N: hiiI!!! just want to note a few things before you proceed- this is meant to be read as a wlw. Tav isn't described necessarily so it can be read as a gn tav or even a male. but I wrote this with the intention of Tav being femme presenting. I do try to avoid using "he said/she said/they said" so if you see that please tell me so I can fix that since I do want this to be as gn as possible in case you don't imagine a femme Tav. also tav's gender really isn't relevant to what I am planning for the later part, same goes for tav's race.

tav is also meant to be a selunite, but I don't know a whole lot about it, I am actively reading a wiki on it but again, can't make everything lore accurate lolol. hopefully I was able to portray the character correctly! another thing to note is that this is the inbetween of her first romance scene but not in act 2 (aka post tiefling party). so at this point tav and shadowheart kissed. anything else that needs to be adressed i cannot possibly think of so with that, enjoy!!

Upon waking up, you already felt that it was going to be a long day, one that was longer than usual. The sores from numerous fights and hours of walking were ever present from the moment you opened your eyes; the feeling of the Astarion’s fangs wringing your neck numb. You mentally check off the numerous problems before you get out of your tent and set off for the day. Upon leaving the dimly lit tent, you were blinded slightly by the morning light. The smell of breakfast filled the air as idle chatter continued. You take a moment to look at your companions. Gale was the one cooking, making idle chatter with Wyll and Karlach, the latter who was most likely the one who started the fire. Lae’zel was by herself, sharpening one of her many swords. Astarion emerges from his tent, also having just woken up. You continue to scan the camp looking for someone in particular.

‘No sign of her…’ You think to yourself, pouting slightly. From the corner of your eyes, you see Astarion approaching you. Sighing, you can already tell it was going to be a long day. 

“Glad to see you didn’t die last night.” He greets with a smirk. You look at him, already feeling the regret of letting him feed and an oncoming headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping it will relieve some tension. 

“Well if someone didn’t take any more than he should have, I wouldn’t have passed out.” You quip, to which Astarion lets out a laugh. 

“I did not take any more than I normally do. You just lost a lot of blood yesterday.” He says as he crosses his arms and shifts to the side. You look at him blankly for a moment, thinking if it would be worth it to put a stake in his heart. Listing the pros and cons, it seems that keeping him alive has more pros shockingly. Sighing once more, which was something that happened a lot when Astarion was around, you cast lesser restoration and begin to walk towards Gale, Karlach, and Wyll. However, before you can even approach the trio, you see Shadowheart emerge from her tent.

Your heart skips a beat as you look at her from afar. From the moment you had seen her while on the nautiloid, you had some sort of feelings stirring for her. Just a glance at her tells you how much of a beauty she is. The way her onyx hair framed her face, her braid that swished and would often rest on her shoulders, and the soft makeup that furthers her beauty in a way that feels almost godlike. Not to mention her eyes. The soft hazel green stood out with her darker eyeshadow, luring in the very person who looked into them. However, it wasn’t just her physical beauty that lured you in, it was the subtle beauty that seemingly showed when she wasn’t paying attention.  The soft smile that creeps up her face when you were swarmed by children at the grove, or how she plays with Scratch when she thinks no one is paying attention. You would often find yourself looking forward to fights, just to get injured so she could heal you, watching how her hands would tenderly cover the wound. In essence, her mannerisms, voice, and beauty have bewitched you, terribly. Often you were left lying awake late at night, thinking back on any conversation or memories you have of her. 

Since the tiefling party a few nights ago, you have had numerous things to think of. Truthfully, you were elated that you had agreed to a drink with her, since in your mind it showed that she had a fraction of attraction towards you. While it was hard to tell how she truly felt since she was sharran and they were sworn to secrecy; you did not need words to know that she enjoyed the moment you two shared. The kiss you two shared. The morning after you two had talked about it, and she agreed that there was indeed something between the two of you. However, soon after she began to withdraw herself from you. She would avoid being alone with you, cut the conversation short, and even volunteer to stay behind at camp. It hurt to see her detach herself from any social interaction with you. You even knew that she was avoiding only you, catching glimpses of her talking to the others. However, you found it better to give her her space, something that she appreciated in the past, though it was showing to be harder than you wanted it to be. 

“You know, it is rude to stare.” A voice cuts you out of your train of thought. Blinking, you look at the voice and see that it is Astarion. Confused as to what he is talking about, you give him a look. He rolls his eyes and smacks his teeth. “You have been staring at Shadowheart’s tent for a good while, my friend. A bit too long, might I add.”

Quietly, you let out an ‘oh’ before you turn towards your tent. You decide to start getting ready for the day, no longer hungry. Stripping your camp wear and donning your armor, you mentally summon all your courage so you can ask Shadowheart to accompany you, Gale, and Karlach. Finishing the knot of your boots, you equip your weapons and leave your tent, the blinding rays of the sun stinging your eyes for a brief moment.

‘Moonmadein please guide me.’ You utter in your thoughts before you make your way to Gale and Karlach. Even though you were nowhere near them, Karalach seemed to notice you were heading their way. Turning her head from her conversation with Gale, she makes eye contact with you. Her face seemingly lights up as small flames rise out of her skin.

“Mornin’ soldier!” She hollers. Gale says something to her in a quiet tone, one that you can’t hear. Whatever he told her caused the flames on her to diminish. Looking back at you, she lets out a slightly nervous chuckle and says, “Sorry about that. Just excited to get on the road again.” 

“No worries, and good morning to you Karlach. You too Gale.” You reassure Karlach quickly before you greet the wizard. Gale smiles in return and greets a quick ‘morning’ before leaving, presumably to get his stuff for the road. You look back to Karlach and ask, “Have you seen Shadowheart?”

“Oh, I think I saw she went with Scratch into the woods,” Karlach says, her mood seemingly more down. She hesitates for a moment, before asking “Why?”

“I just want to see if she is us on the road. It has been a bit since she left camp.” You explain, hoping that you weren't evident in your real reason for talking to her. Truthfully you weren’t telling a full lie, you did want to know if she wanted to leave camp for a while. You also just wanted a moment alone with her, in case she didn’t want to go. However before anything else could be said, the bushes rustled slightly. You and Karlach turn to the noise, however, you don’t need to go and investigate since Scratch jumps from the bushes and runs toward you. He jumps onto your chest, tackling you to the ground before he starts to lick at your face. Laughing at the slightly ticklish feeling, you try to move him off of you, not too keen on smelling like dog breath or even having slobber on you. Thankfully he gets off with ease and goes to bother you someone else. Still chuckling, you get up from the ground, with the help of Karlach who is laughing with you. The rustling of leaves happens once more, catching your attention once more. This time it was Shadowheart who emerged from the woods. You briefly make eye contact with her, your heart skips a beat and you shift to move towards her. Though it seemed she noticed you moving, since she looked away first and headed back to her tent, not even uttering a greeting or looking back. Your shoulders sag, clearly dejected at her avoidance. ‘I can’t be like this all day. We have to move forward.’ You think to yourself, quickly shaking the feeling and standing up straighter, putting on the front that you were not bothered by it. 

“It seems like she has no intent on leaving today. I suppose we could drag Astarion with us.” You jest lightly to Karlach. Wanting to leave sooner, you readjust your pack and look for Astarion. Thankfully, he seemed to have read your mind and was already in his gear. You look for Gale briefly and see that he is equally as ready. With a nod, the four of you leave camp and begin the day.

#shadowheart x reader #Shadowheart x tav #my head has been spinning with bg3 fanfic ideas #im going crazy #it's late and i am still up #actually wrote this instead of sleeping #tav is down bad for shadowheart #shadowheart is bad at feelings

[drifloonz]

I also wanna see hcs of Steven with an autistic reader (dating hcs ig, I'm also a Strangled Red simp and I'm autistic)

remember me. im alive . Im here to heal the drought . i am too tired mentally to do the whole format shebang maybe ill dress it up when i wake up ( it is currently 6:21 am for me and im not tired yet )

Actually i dont think i do anything that extra or fancy with my formatting other than the title which i added right now. so . Enjoy

steven x autistic reader!

♡ he's autistic as well ... like that "I hate people" type'a autism. at least nowadays! i think he used to have trouble with volume and tone before the incident and just generally get easily overwhelmed... and either freeze or start to go on a walk to take his mind off of things. stuff like that.

♡ He's also insanely autistic about battle strategies and its his special interest of sorts . like... not that much, he did ( in my interpretation and what is kind of implied? ) sweep everything with miki because she's a special charizard who just kind of. Is stronger in all ways.

♡ BUT! i think i mean this in the more pokeani style of battles - he's crafty and very observant of his surroundings and how to "Cheat" battles with it. wink

♡ anyways yeah autistic reader . hi . You came for dating hcs right .

♡ he tends to just live in his house, lurking, stalking, barely moving out of bed to eat - so you might have to help him with that. ... buuuut, if you're similar, then you two will simply just sit in bed staring at the ceiling all day . napstablook core

♡ he hasn't had much stimulation outside of taking care of his basic needs and like. i'unno. being alive in general. so if you have an interest he isn't too aware of, he's always very happy to listen.

♡ he's an extremely good listener- he'll be nodding and mostly silent, but he may ask questions once he's more comfortable with you. he is actively trying to engage with your interests, although his own autism makes his tone a little stagnant- if he sounds uninterested, it's not intentional. his voice just comes off like that.

♡ he particularly likes games and music although the interests and energy for them have wavered a lot for him personally - so if your interests align with those sorts of things, he'll definitely be on board. you being into something in a genre he used to like definitely gives him enough energy to try again.

♡ this eventually does end up with him having more energy to engage with things that used to give him joy in a similar way . mostly playing games... like, a pokemon stadium or battle revolution game if those existed in-universe? because he can't exactly uh. Battle for real anymore without hurting those around him. of course, he always has charizard on his teams front and center. it's not Her. but, it'll suffice as long as he distracts himself.

♡ truly, it's just like this. introduce things to him and he'll be eager to try or listen or talk to you about them.

♡ if you get overwhelmed anywhere, he is quick to move you out of the area and also maybe take away the overwhelming Element. if it's a person, well. he'll just basically glare at them. a silent 'Fuck Off'

♡ also he will personally appreciate it if you get him more clothes. having just a few sets is fine for his depression, but the more he realizes it, the fabric feels awful sometimes. mainly, his trainer outfit he usually goes outside with - it's very worn and torn and the material was always a little cheap... if you get him a replacement, he'll be all the happier for it.

♡ he'd also give the old one to you if you cared about that sort of thing, but he'd be tentative because. well. it's worn and torn...?

♡ unless you fix it up and sew it somehow. that'd be nice. Im getting offtrack

♡ if you draw, write, or do creative things - he's always happy to see them. he likes to simply wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as he looks at what you're doing now and again... it's, calming? like, really calming. to be honest, he could do that forever and ever.

♡ until you two get hungry of course. but, until then.

♡ he does also of course engage and ask about things like your OCs ( if you have them ), worlds, writing, dynamics, headcanons - anything, everything.

♡ generally things like this are what he's happiest with . watching something with you or watching you do something as he lays back and relaxes. seeing you enjoy the things you like makes him feel a lot better even though its something so simple .

♡ ... S!3v3n is also similar, he's just much more quiet- basically nonverbal - about how he goes about it. those red eyes will always be watching intently though .

_____

sorry if these were barebones i didnt rlly know what to Go off of but yeah . he is autistic too !!!! the Tismry

#wispy writes #steven strangled red #steven strangled red x reader #strangled red x reader

[yellowjacketsgayfanfic]

Shauna brings you to Lottie's wellness center

SUBMISSION:

i LOVE your writing

Could I request Shauna x female reader

When Shauna tells reader that she’s going to lotties wellness center or whatever reader breaks down because reader is like seriously attached to Shauna so they go together but reader is also really shy and hates being in places with loads of people and when they get there and Shauna is told to go do the activity she chose reader follows and then that annoying guy with the goat tells reader to go away but Shauna defends reader and they go into the forest for a fluffy little make out sesh till misty interrupts

A/N: obsessed with this prompt and how specific it is, ugh, eating this shit up

"Honey, I kind of have to go." Shauna repeated to you, hands on your knees.

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, eyes furrowed in defiance. "I don't want you to leave for a long time. I want to be with you!"

"What are you going to do there?" Shauna attempted to reason with you.

"What are you going to do there." You argued.

Shauna let out a long breathy sigh. "Okay, touché. But there's going to be a lot of people there. A lot of freaks. It's a cult, Y/N."

"But I'll be with you." You smiled sweetly.

She rolled her eyes. "It's useless trying to say no to you. Okay, get your butt in the car."

***

When the two of you arrived, it was more crowded than you originally thought. Purple blobs moved around in incredibly intentional paths, doing chores, talking to each other, laughing.

Shauna grabbed your hand. "Jesus Christ."

"This is awful." You snorted. "Holy shit."

You both walked forward toward the center of the compound. Natalie and Misty walked toward the both of you.

"Natalie." Shauna mumbled, heading over to give her a hug.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. Very quickly, several of Shauna's old friends tumbled in, all equally surprised to see each other. You, however, quickly became the center of attention.

"Who is this?" Natalie drawled, walking closer to get a better look at you. "She's young, Shauna."

Shauna cleared her throat. "This is Y/N. She's my partner."

"Oh." Taissa raised her brows.

You smiled sheepishly, moving closer to Shauna for safety. "Hi."

"Welcome."

Everyone turned their heads. Lottie was walking toward the lot of you. "Especially to you." Lottie smiled, reached out her hands to lock with yours.

You allowed her to, immediately understanding the chokehold this woman had on your lover and her friends. "Uh, hey."

"You're gorgeous. So full of life." She grinned. "I'm so glad you're here."

You swallowed, wondering if you were beginning to regret coming, actually. "Thanks. Happy to tag along."

You looked behind your shoulder at Shauna, who shrugged at you with confused eyes.

"Come along. All of you. The time is ripe to get started on your treatments." She tugged you along by the hand, and you sped up your gate to keep up with her.

Shauna jogged ahead, and the rest followed suit, playing follow the leader.

***

"When someone new comes in, we often let them choose a treatment for themselves." Lottie announced, holding a pine board with different therapies written on them in pretty handwriting. "Especially for our newest guest, I think we should let Y/N go first."

You blinked, looking at the women around you who seemed incredibly tentative to interact with anything that was going on at all.

"Alright." You mumbled, taking the board from her.

"Listen." Van sat up. "No offense, but this is really just not for me."

Natalie piped up, "I thought the same thing. Just give it a chance."

"Listen, Nat. I'm happy you're alive, and Lottie, it's... good to see you're back from Switzerland." Van continued.

"Switzerland? That was over a decade ago." Lottie shook her head, seemingly offended.

"Wow. That's great." Van nodded. "But I am just..."

"Okay, um." You sputtered. "I am going to do self-care. Right, Shauna?"

"Oh, mm, mhmm." She nodded. "Absolutely. All of my rational senses are screaming, but yes, self-care sounds right."

You slapped her thigh and gave her a warning look. The rest of the group picked their own therapies as well.

"Wonderful. We're going to get you started with this, but before you all head out, you will need to text this landline number to someone who is available for emergencies." Lottie announced. "You will be giving up your phones."

That was fine. Shauna was your emergency contact, and honestly, you were Shauna's. You took your phone out of your pocket, "Going offline for a few days will be nice."

"Technology keeps you enslaved to other peoples priorities." Misty nodded to you.

"Say," Lottie sang, "Y/N. Why don't I take you and Shauna out to the barn where we will begin your treatment?"

"Barn?" Shauna questioned.

***

It was, indeed, a barn filled with cattle. Cows, goats, chickens, and lambs scattered the place with many people to tend over them and take care of them.

Shauna gave the place a once over. "Wait. This is self-care? Doesn't that usually include, like, massages. Or mud maths. Or a hot tub?"

Lottie chuckled. "Hey, I have to go, but someone will come over with, Bruce. I'll see you later!"

"Who is, Bruce?" Shauna called out, but Lottie had already traveled off.

A man walked over holding a little baby goat.

You squealed. "Awww, baby!"

He sneered at you. "What are you doing here? This is a one party therapy only."

"Hey." Shauna snapped. "Fuck you, purple boy."

With a scoff, he tried to hand Shauna the goat, but she backed away. "What are you doing?" She grimaced.

"You have to take care of him. It's the treatment. You will learn about all the ways in which taking care of Bruce rewards you, and the way in which he brings out sacrifices within you." The guy rattled off, almost reading from a script.

"No." Shauna shook her head. "No way."

You grabbed the baby goat away from the purple man. "I'll take him, then."

"He's not for you." The man shouted.

"Okay, listen you oompa loompa, freak." Shauna got up close to him. "Leave my girlfriend alone. She is the only one here who is going to actively care about that goat. I will find a way to fuck it up."

With a childlike level of attitude, the guy took off and stomped out of the barn.

"He seems emotionally stable." You commented, patting Bruce on the head.

Shauna sighed in annoyance. "Come on, baby, let's get out of here."

You walked alongside her out of the barn and further up into the woods. "You know, this is kind of fun. I love animals."

"Of course you would think this is fun." She smiled, a tender look in her eyes. "You're so sweet."

You blushed, holding on tighter to Bruce as you climbed your way through brush and trees. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere we can be alone for a little while. I need to get away from those freaks." Shauna replied.

There was a silence for a time as you both trudged along.

"Lottie is for sure a cult leader, right?" You asked.

"Oh absolutely." Shauna agreed.

***

Once there was a good place to sit, Shauna helped you tie Bruce to a tree so that you and her could have some time to yourselves.

You sat down on the dead leaves beneath you, and Shauna followed suit.

"I'm really glad you came." She said. "This would be unbearable without you."

"What? Is it so hard to take care of the little guy for a day?" You joked, snuggling up to her, pointing toward Bruce who was gnawing on a branch.

She smiled down at you, brushing baby hairs off of your face. "I just meant...all of this. This shit with Lottie and the others. I'm just glad you're here."

You lifted your chin up, your lips brushing against hers. She brought her face closer down, her palm wrapping around the nape of your neck to keep your lips close. She kissed you very sweetly, her other hand making its way to your waist.

"Mmm." You moaned into her mouth, smiling into the kiss.

"What?" She whispered, clutching you tight.

"You're so pretty." You shrugged.

With a chuckle she continued to kiss you, her hand tangled in your hair, and her tongue dancing on yours.

Then, out of nowhere, leaves began to crunch. You broke away from Shauna, expecting some kind of wildlife to be quickly encroaching. But alas, it was just Misty.

"Oh, I am so sorry." She gasped. "Was I interrupting something?"

"No." You shook your head.

"Yes." Shauna said emphatically.

Misty scoffed. "Well, okay, then. Shouldn't you be in therapy, anyway?"

"We are." Shauna said.

"Last I checked, getting fresh in the woods was not on that list, okay?" Misty chastised.

"Wait." Your eyebrows furrowed, looking toward the tree that Bruce was supposed to be on. "Where did he go?"

Shauna looked over as well and groaned. "Oh shit, not the goat."

"Well then I guess I'll help you find him." Misty grinned. "Come here goat."

The two of you sat up from the ground.

"Shouldn't you be in therapy, too?" Shauna questioned Misty.

"I would really rather not sit in a dark tank void of any sound, filled with water. That's terrible for my vertigo." She replied.

Very quickly, you found Bruce bleating near a tree. "Oh! Oh thank God."

You ran to him and lifted him into your arms. "All better now."

"Oh good." Shauna clasped her hands together. "Good job, Y/N."

With a proud little smile on your face, Shauna kissed you again, and forgetting the company you were in, gave your rear end a little slap. "Don't let him out of your sight."

You cradled Bruce close to your chest. "Never."

#yellowjackets #shauna sadecki #fluff #fanfic #oneshot #drabble #x reader #femme!reader #gay #wlw #submission #open for submission

[mischiefpaw]

(^me realizing that i said i would update sometime in march and it's the 31st today) HI im alive (again) i am still hard at work preparing for the launch of my webcomic, Ad Terra @adterra !!

Ad Terra is a dramedy that follows rival professional gamers Hyun-je "Nyangi" Jeon and Seon-jin "PRinCe" Lee as they struggle to survive in an apocalyptic, alternate Earth to their own. Though united in a search for their former teammates, their shared history makes tensions inescapable-- and as old judgements warp to fit a new landscape, simple resentment gives way to something far more insidious.

i'm almost done with the intro and other necessary assets and i'm confident in saying that it will be launching by the end of april at the very latest. i'm very excited to share it and also excited to potentially be more active on here again LMAO thank you for your patience as i figure out how this whole deal works!! update schedule is TBD but tentatively i'm thinking of updating in chunks every couple of months.

#ad terra #webcomic #my art #my ocs #wip

[corditequill]

Fanfic List

A list of the current fanfics I'm working on, in all fandoms. This list is for active or hiatus fanfics. Any inactive fanfics (ones I don't particularly see myself finishing, unfortunately) will be on a separate list.

Note: I am currently in the process of migrating my fanfics to AO3.

My AO3 fanfics can be found at CorditeQuill | Archive of Our Own

My complete fanfic list can also be found on Fanfiction.net at https://www.fanfiction.net/~corditequill.

LABYRINTH:

The Buried Moon: The Goblin King impulsively appears before Sarah after a birthday. He offers Sarah a birthday gift and she takes his offer, ready to embrace magic once more. But can she trust Jareth? Even as a tentative friendship forms, a darkness is growing within the Labyrinth. When it takes the Goblin King, can Sarah be a Champion once more? [ACTIVE]

Bound and Delivered: Thanks to a witch's curse, the Goblin King cannot use magic until he meets certain requirements. Sarah happens to bump into him taking a taxi and in a very foul mood. In a moment of impulsiveness, Sarah strikes a deal to help him break the curse. Suddenly, she finds herself as a substitute Goblin Queen dealing with the magical chaos of the Labyrinth and the enigmatic Jareth. [HIATUS]

Beyond the Labyrinth: When Jareth is missing and the Labyrinth is dying, Hoggle comes to Sarah begging for help. Sarah will have to travel across the Underground looking for the Goblin King. But finding him is the easy part. Staying alive, working together, and defeating the powerful evil that is destroying the Underground while Jareth's magic fades? That will be a challenge worthy of a Champion. [HIATUS]

Welcome to the Funhouse: Strangely, Sarah decides to get her fortune read at a traveling carnival. But, the results are not what she expected. [COMPLETE]

State of Mind: Sarah finds herself alone during Christmas and makes a foolish wish. Now, surrounded by caroling goblins, insane chickens, and all the magic of the Underground, not to mention a certain Goblin King, can she survive the holidays in one piece? [COMPLETE]

The Red Thread: Sarah opens her eyes to find herself in a familiar ballroom with a certain Goblin King. Is this a dream? What is she doing back after so long? And where will it lead? To more heartbreak and ruin or maybe something even more surprising? [COMPLETE]

Candies and Pumpkins: Sarah is surprised when the Goblin King visits her while she's nearly elbow-deep in a pumpkin. Is this the start of a new Halloween tradition? One that involves candy apples, jack o'lanterns, scary movies, goblins, magic, and a hint of romance? [COMPLETE]

MAD MAX: FURY ROAD

Live and Die and Live Again: Nux's manifest destiny must not be complete, because he wakes on Fury Road badly injured but alive. He has a choice to make. Is he mediocre or historic? [COMPLETE]

#labyrinth #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfiction.net #archive of our own #labyrinth 1986 #jareth

[pasta-in-the-blender]

Bigshot

Why would you be surprised i'm writng another story about Slenderman again.

Tw: gore (not heavy), murder, possession, substance use (alcohol specifically mentioned), slender is being silly again.

it's 1633 words

It was a chill-yet-still night in the forest, not a sound disturbing the peace nature brings, birds chirping, crickets buzzing, all the usual yet beloved parts of his home he loved oh-so much. Except for one thing. 

He couldn’t help but be able to hear mocking laughter and loud talking from afar. The village never seems to run out of drunken teens who think they are above the rules, does it? 

No need to waste his time thinking about it, he will have to get rid of them anyway.

“Come on Brandon! You’re literally a jock, you should have no problem with a little hiking!?” Bethany mocked him with an annoying voice; the girl had always been hard to deal with, especially when tipsy. 

“Oh fuck off Beth, it’s literally midnight, I can’t see shit around here!” Brandon snapped back at the girl, but she seemed to care not about bothering the boy anymore. 

“Should have brought a flashlight man, better luck next time.” Said Katie, leading the group at the front with a flashlight in her hand. 

“Just chill out, we are almost there.”  She  mumbled while stopping at a small pit surrounded by stones and three logs; clearly an abandoned campfire spot. 

They all agreed to set the tent there, seeing as there was no reason to keep hiking around in the dark. Once the grueling process of setting up a tent for four people was over, like the smart pyromaniacs they were, they set a few random sticks and small logs on fire, not bothering to try out the old timey girl scout techniques. 

And now that they were all settled in, it was time for the cliche activities unsupervised teens would do when camping, aka make ridiculously burnt smores, drink the cheapest cider they could lie about their age to buy, share some cigarettes, tell the scary stories and gossip circulating around town, and play truth or dare, or perhaps spin the bottle. Depends on how drunk they were.

Jared started the game by diving right in, even if Brandon chose Truth.

“Sooo Brandon,,,, you got any bitches yet? Are you still married to football?” 

“I still am, yes, devoted as hell to the victory, man.” He answered spitefully, knowing very well this question was solely to embarrass him.

“Don’t sweat it dude, being single is cool too!” Exclaimed Kate as she tried to comfort him after that low blow start. 

“Fine Jared, your turn then. Truth or dare?” Brandon asked, ready for revenge.

“Dare.” He said, with a grin.  Jared was known to be no quitter by any means, he was happy to take on any kind of challenge thrown his way. 

“Brave… I dare you to,,” he pauses for a moment to think of something of equal caliber to what he got, “take off your shirt, climb that tree and tell us what you see, ok?” 

Jared stared in disbelief, drank the last bits of his cider and went ahead. 

Since Jared was also quite fit, it took no time for him to climb the tree. 

“Allright loverboy, what do you see?” Brandon asked once they saw Jared settle on the top. 

“Okay,, uh I see some lights far back in the town, lemme see what’s deeper into the woo-” He was cut off mid sentence.

The others on the ground were unaware, but Jared stopped talking because he was met with a sight not many live to tell. 

He couldn’t move, words had left him, but Jared was a brave boy. He got over his fear in a matter of seconds and moved to scream for his friends’ attention. 

Unfortunately, scared people are not as attentive, so they don't notice when someone pulls their leg until it is too late, and they fall easily. 

 Jared fell from the tree, his body twisting and tangling as he reached for some purchase, before his back hit the ground with a splitting 

Crack .

He didn't move. He laid motionless, only the shallow movement of his chest indicating he was still alive.

His lover, Beth,  came to his rescue immediately. “Jared, honey what the fuck, are you okay???” 

He could only mumble a few words of warning in his hardly conscious state and signaled with his eyes towards the cause of the “accident”.

Everyone was horrified. They definitely expected a situation similar to this, since everybody brought their signature weapons (a bat with nails in it for Katie, a decorated pocket knife for Bethy, a machete for Brandon, and a crowbar for Jared.. Not like he will be using it though.)

All they did was stare until it stepped out of the coverage made by the branches and leaves; the moment he moved everyone but Brandon rushed to grab their weapons if they didn’t have them in arms reach already. 

It took another step forward and tendrils emerged from its back. This is when everyone came to the realization they had absolutely no chance of fighting this monster; fleeing was the best option. 

 They took a step back in sync, then another; and they booked it. 

As they ran and left everything behind, including Jared,  they heard a weak scream.. Must have been him.. Due to his fall, he couldn’t get up and run with the team. Brandon took a moment to silently thank his friend for the sacrifice he made for his team, thinking with the time bought they could get away. But they ran straight into a dead end as if the forest was against them. 

The team of (now) 3 formed a circle for their best chance of survival. A moment later the creature appeared in front of them again, now ready to attack and show no mercy. 

Kate was a creative and quick thinking girl, though, and she had an idea.

“Truth or dare?” She shouted at him. It tilted his head in confusion. Was she seriously trying to play a game with him instead of begging for mercy?

“You heard me, truth or dare?” She repeated, while signaling to her friends it was time to slowly back away and run when possible. It stayed silent for a mere second.

“Truth.” It said, out of sheer curiosity. How surprising. Kate didn’t think this distraction was going to work at all. Cockiness and the substances took over her. 

“Ya ever had a girlfriend, sir?” She asked, a grin painting her face. 

How unoriginal. It’s one of the first things he thought Katie was going to ask. 

“Yes, I've had several partners over the years. I hoped you’d ask something better with your only question. You disappoint me, girl.”

Kate only snickered and took a step back to be closer to her friends who no longer felt too threatened. 

“Now it is your turn;  truth or dare?” It asked, as the muscles on its face formed a horrifying imitation of a smile.

“Dare.” She replied with a challenging voice to her friends’ horror. 

Amusing, she really lets cockiness and pride make her biggest mistake for her. But who is he to question? 

It held its disproportionate hand out towards her, and simply said; “Come closer then.” Kate’s stomach dropped. She was not going to let fear humiliate her. 

Something in her head is clearly loose; is it really worth it to value ego over life?

Kate grimaced and swiftly walked towards the creature, stopping only a few steps away from its “hand”. 

It asks mockingly;

“Tell me, Kate. You seem to be the leader of this little group, aren’t you?”

She raises an eyebrow, then with a tone of annoyance she replies.

“We have no leader, sir.” 

“So what are you then? The show off? The big shot of your little parade?”

“Positive. I am the biggest shot you have ever had the misfortune to encounter, sir.” She smugly says without hesitation.

She turned to walk back toward her friends, assuming she had completed her dare. But as if it happened in the blink of an eye, the hand wrapped around her skull; her body went completely numb, and Kate fell unconscious with only the hand holding her up by the head from collapsing onto the ground.

This seemed to be more than enough to make sure Kate’s friends ran around the dead end, and started running again without considering ever stopping again until they were safe. 

Much to their fright, both the monster and now possessed Kate are faster than them. Brandon put up the fight of his life (literally) and yet still lost to the mindless puppet of Kate embarrassingly quickly. Bethany watched in horror as her best friend in the world mercilessly distorted the skull and ribcage of her other good friend. 

After Kate made Brandon look practically unrecognizable, she slowly turned and moved towards Beth. She still foolishly saw her friend in Katie’s eyes and called out to her. 

“Kate, girl, snap out of that shit, what are you doing?! Please stop, let’s ditch this and go home!” The plea went unheard.

Kate stopped in her tracks; she seemed to act as if she considered the offer  for a moment. Possession, especially by an entity with this kind of power; is stronger than lowly human emotions. 

She swung. Then again, and again. No matter the knife she had,  Beth’s lifeless body with the skull shattered like an egg, brains scrambled to jelly inside, ruined by the nails in the bat cradled to the ground just like everyone else’s. 

“Kate” has decided to leave the scene and  move her shell of a body someplace calmer. Once she wandered to a clearing, the weapon slid out of her hand and soon she collapsed next to it as well. 

But at least, unlike her friends, she will be waking up tomorrow with the worst hangover ever, as well as some nasty bruises and wounds accompanied with a horrible migraine, extreme distress, and confusion.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta writing #creepypasta fanfic #slenderman #slenderman creepypasta #slenderverse #tw gore #tw murder #tw possession #tw alcohol

[a-v-apoorva-raman]

The mirrored wall

“A buzzkill you are, Miss Lancaster. ” I got up loosing my hold on Lycaon’s neck. “You got to be faster and definitely attentive, old man. I am defying all your attacks every time.”

I was worried about his absent discipline in trainings. Should I bring this up with him tonight after the fight? “I let you win so you don’t get that ‘lemon is stuck in my throat’ grimace.” “What the actual –” “You just got back from Old Rats from your morning practice that’s why I was holding back.” Plastering his infamous smirk. This arrogant piece of hot shit.

“ You lost because you can’t beat me. Your legwork routine is ancient. You won’t stand a chance against me with such lousy training.” “Are you mocking my trainer?” he threw a t-shirt over his head indicating the training was over. We lasted barely eighty minutes in practice. More like he did. Anyway. Guess who is washing all the dishes now? Ha! “I am mocking at your lack of vigilance. What you are taught should be effective on field. Our maxim…”

“Vigilance. Victory. Sacrifice.” We say it together out loud. I pass him the water bottle and gesture towards the shower. The man has the audacity to grin. Oh boy. “ The one who touches the bathroom door gets to shower first.” Lycaon declares running across the room. I run over the couch climbing the stairs two at a time with Lycaon hot on his heels. He pulls me by the ankles trying to stop me. I kick his face some out of reflex and more to rescue my leg.

I run upstairs hearing a “Bitch move, sassy. Not funny.” from behind. An all too familiar tanned hand grabs the door knob when I am centimetres away. “ Hence proven, I am faster than you casually enjoying the perks of being tall, piglet.”

He did not just call me a piglet. Someone’s funeral is early. I eye his hand on the knob backing down since he won his shower. “Sorry for kicking you though. You kind of deserved it. What with you pulling me down the stairs? Total dick move may I add.” “ You guys getting on each other again? Keep it low, Your Horniness.” Arnoux shouted from his room adjacent to the hallway wall we stood bantering with one another. “If you don’t want to hear the succeeding activity –” “Excuse me? We aren’t doing-” Just let me for once complete my statement! “ Get out of the house, Man.”

“I am going to make my self a nice-” I am thrown inside the shower without further ado. What is up with him? He is restless than usual. I back away pressing into the door glass of the shower. Not seconds later I am met with a rough ‘ don’t stop or I’ll die’ lips crashing my mouth.

Okay, might shower first then. I could sense his desperation. Our lips moving but his hands tightening their hold around my waist hinting he did not want to loose me. I could not possibly imagine a life without Lycaon. This beautiful man. This absolute love all Greek beauty. I blindly searched in the air for the knob. Finding it after eons, turned it to relish the cold water hitting my skin.

With one hand pulling Lycaon’s face impossibly close and the other roaming over the hemline of his joggers. Pulling at the strings against his very evident tent pole in glory. Pulling back a little I took my tank top off. We heard Nox muttering a ‘fucking hell' and a ‘why me' before his steps thumping down the stairs.

We've got to find a place of our own. We got undressed between all the sweat, water, groans and moans. He broke off the kiss for a few moments to give us a breather. “Luna.” His ragged breath perking my ears up at that sound. I raise my neck to a ravenously hungry looking man. I grunted in approval matching his alive gray pupils to my dilated wolfish ones. The sound of the main door unlocking was deafened by the shattering of the floor glass we made love against. “Not my shower glass! Horn dogs.” Nox voice drowned out as the main door clicked shut.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_bambidaddie_/

#feeling spicy #fiction #creative writing #writers of tumblr #writer #books #original content #copyright

[loveireandblog]

Gonna be extra weird for a sec, so im like really sick and I think I lived too long as if im integrated w the world and like cosplaying as okay then I plunged into these depths innit so I'm extra wary of just chatting like normal ig -and I'm in a Facililty and you can keep ur phone unless they believe it will stop u from getting better and I, myself, actually asked for the phone to be taken from me in intervals. Because i wanna message and talk so bad But I Don't wanna be anchored w these people who have such a strong hold on my heart. I want to cut it out bc I want out of the world so badly. That is selfish. And hurtful to the people, the rejection. You get what I'm saying? I'm sick.

The only fucking reason I'm here is bc I'm on the lowest, lowest simmer. But a thing abt me is I'm like a flurry of activity even at the tiniest effort lol. I don't want people to take it personal that I'm unavailable.

So im in here and everything is supposed to be conducive to some abstract 'healing' like I'm not wanting to at all. Yk? The spotlight is on that.

Anyway. I finally started talking a little to one person. And my sister.

Someone who I was in like, to me, a very early stage of a friendship like I am a very tentative person but I do think they've given me reason to be. Anyway they messaged me like every other day for a month, to no response. Yeah. I mean I wasn't there to respond anyway. And their last response was them saying happy birthday to themself looool 😪😪😪😪😪😪😪😪😪. I can't stand looking at the message on my WhatsApp like i cannot stand it at all. Don't be like that :(( anyway

I have to actually ignore it. I can't. I don't wanna be alive and talk too much. But it rly hurts. Cos if we were closer, I would. But we only just started getting to know eachother. We did talk a lot though. I have good reason not to answer. If I do, I will start to spiral into trying to heal faster. The inability to accept care and support is ironclad...I wanna die too much. People don't respond well to that. I don't wanna /fight/ holy shit I'm fighting w myself constant. Nothing alleviates, it just adds.

But ,yeah. That happy birthday message. Gosh.

[the-hem]

"The Tower." From Luke 14:28–33.

What are Towers? There is one called Babel, but that is not the tower we want to discuss here. That one is found in Isaiah, and refers to a place high enough from which one can really see what the future of humanity would look like if we could achieve Mashiach:

From Isaiah 38:

17The King in His beauty shall your eyes behold; they shall see [from] a distant land.

18Your heart shall meditate [in] fear; where is he who counts, where is he who weighs, where is he who counts the towers?

19A people of a strange tongue you shall not see, a people of speech too obscure to comprehend, of stammering tongue, without meaning.

20See Zion, the city of our gathering; your eyes shall see Jerusalem, a tranquil dwelling, a tent that shall not fall, whose pegs shall never be moved, and all of whose ropes shall not be torn.

21But there, the Lord is mighty for us; a place of broad rivers and streams, where a galley with oars shall not go, and a great ship shall not pass.

22For the Lord is our judge; the Lord is our ruler; the Lord is our king; He shall save us.

23Your ropes are loosed, not to strengthen their mast properly; they did not spread out a sail; then plunder [and] booty were divided by many; the lame takes the prey.

24And the neighbor shall not say, "I am sick." The people dwelling therein is forgiven of sin.

Now Begins the Parable of the Tower:

28 “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? 

29 For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, 30 saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’

31 “Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? 

32 If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. 

33 In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.

Money in Judaism is good, practical sense. It begins to accumulate when young adults begin to process their implications of their responsibilities and there are good and bad consequences to their actions. Jesus asks His Disciples over and over to bank as much of it as possible while He is still alive, to hold dear everything He says.

The Foundation of these words are found in what I call the Pax Terra Sutra, "the Declaration of Peace on Earth", Peace on earth, goodwill towards men. Jesus explains the terms, "Love your neighbor as you love yourself."

From these, the Founding Principals of Christianity, one can build just about anything one imagines without fear of its loss.

To profess to Christianity and act like an undereducated savage whose sole preoccupations are with the disgusting cunt uterus, how gay men court and fuck or how people clothe themselves is absurd. These are not activities that are "on mission" and they never will be.

To blunder through life claiming thouest knows Jesus and push these agendas does not add one cent to the bank. It looks and feels disastrous for the world because it is.

But this we do, there are wars coming over it. One version of the story versus the next. Here is what Jesus said about this.

10,000 men vs. 20,000=

10,000 men is the super secret code word for the Archangel Michael who is in charge of God's assets and beats back the forces of Hell's Satans.

Ten thousands are also indicative of the "Ten Statements" being spoken for the sake of loving kindness for 1,000 generations.

20,000 men, twice the amount, is Kingdom Come, the "Ten Plagues."

The Delegation while peace and freedom are a long way off represents the very same God sent to Pharaoh via Moses and Aaron.

There is but one way for the Foundation and the Tower to work and there must be peace and it must be fought for on the basis of the Decrees vs. the Plagues, which are all the ways people discuss rubbish and bullshit with each other and then try to make laws from it and piss everyone off all the time.

Jesus warned us to give up on these things and even still, we have not. We just can't seem to get things off the ground.

[mooilky]

Vampire Eats: This Bites

Gonna post the chapters of a vampire book idea I have.

Chapter 1

She didn’t usually go camping. Like, if she had to choose between camping and an indoor activity she would usually pick the indoor activity. 

But the great outdoors and all that. 

So she was camping. 

Which was cool. 

She could hear a lot of stuff, like the cricket that must be trapped under her tent because it would not shut the fuck up, and while she didn’t like murder. Maybe sometimes it was ok, in very specific circumstances, when a cricket would not stop goddamn.

Why was she camping alone? That’s a good question. She was also wondering that. 

She had wanted some space to think. Camping seemed like a good way to force herself to make space for thought. 

It had worked, for a while. She’d thought about how hungry she was. She had a portable fire that she heated up some food on, delicious cheesy potatoes with oh so much garlic, because she read somewhere that garlic warded off mosquitoes and other bugs and she didn’t want to go home covered in bug bites. 

But now she was lying on her back in the tent with nothing to occupy her but her growing murderous urges directed at one cricket. So focused was she on the cricket, so murderous her thoughts, that she didn’t even notice the shuffling sound that was nearing her at an increasingly frantic pace. It wasn’t until something slammed into the side of the tent that she even reacted. 

By then it was too late. 

The tearing of nylon walls soon gave way to the tearing of skin. A sharp pain pierced her neck and her scream bubbled into gurgles as her body was drained of blood with astonishing speed. She passed out, obviously. 

When she came to, there was someone on top of her. She wasn’t unfamiliar with waking up like this, but generally she remembered bringing someone home. 

She wasn’t at home. 

She was laying in the remnants of her tent with someone on top of her.

Jerking up into a sitting position, the body rolled down and sprawled on her legs. The mottled face with a wide eyed stare directed somewhere over her shoulder didn’t make sense to her. 

She looked around. She was in the woods. The woods were quiet. And she had a dead body in her lap. A dead body that, she now noticed, was smeared with dark drying blood. 

What the fuck?

Where was her phone? Maybe that would help. 

Wobbling to her feet, she staggered over to where she remembered leaving her bag. It sat untouched. Unzipping the side pocket she brought out her phone. It was 3:24 AM. 

Turning on the flashlight, she turned back to the body. It… didn’t look right. 

Like- it was human shaped and stuff, but the skin stretched tight over the bones and the strange bruising that covered the face appeared to cover the rest of the skin as well. It was wearing a tunic but no shoes and it was a dead body. 

She turned on the camera function to look at herself. She… didn’t look right. 

Firstly, her neck was covered in congealed blood. Her eyes looked like they were all pupil, her teeth felt wrong and as she took a sharp breath in through her nose she realized that everything smelled different than she was used to. 

An acrid scent burned her nose and made her eyes water, beneath it was the woodsy scent but… better. She could smell the dirt and the leaves decay, water in motion, deer and other small woodland creatures had been through this clearing recently. 

Dropping her phone, it landed with the light down, the clearing should have been dark to her. Somehow, she could still see. 

She crouched down with her head in her hands. 

What the fuuuuck?

Ok, she just had to put the pieces together. She remembered laying in her tent, she remembered something slamming into her tent, she remembered… 

Holy shit, if she got attacked by that person why was she the one alive?

Should she call park services or something? What if she went to jail?

She didn’t want that.

She started walking. Not really with purpose, more like her head felt stalled and any kind of movement might get it working again. 

An indeterminate amount of time passed. As the world began to brighten her eyes began to burn, her skin itched, and her head pounded with what felt like the beginnings of a migraine. 

She needed somewhere away from all this light. Following new instincts that didn’t make sense yet, she made her way to a thicket of trees that formed a natural den like structure. She crawled inside on her hands and knees and, in the darkness that felt soft and comforting compared to the piercing heat of the sun, she fell asleep. 

When she woke, she knew it was night. 

She had a theory now but she wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet. 

Shuffling back out of the thicket she looked around. 

It was dark but she could see the trees around her clearly. An owl fluttered by and mice scurried amongst the roots and fallen leaves. 

Another sound, an animal, big and coming towards her. She ran. 

Trees zipped by her as she sprinted away and wow. She had never run so fast before! But whatever was following her also had speed apparently. It was gaining on her. 

Instinct led her up the nearest tree and she peered down at… a wolf?

That couldn’t be right. The pamphlet she picked up at the visitor center had listed animals native to the area and wolves were definitely not on that list. Also, weren’t wolves supposed to travel and hunt in packs?

Why wasn’t anything making sense? 

“Ok! So! You’re a wolf and I’m in this tree,” the wolf had been sniffing at the roots of the tree but looked up when she spoke aloud. 

“I was camping and I woke up with a dead body on me? And there was a lot of blood and I’m different now and I think…”

She knew what she thought but she also thought she must be losing her mind. 

“I think I’m a vampire.” She admitted to the wolf.

#was looking through my drafts and found this #vampire eats: this bites #my writing #death mention

[cwenvs3000w23]

My Place in Nature

For me, my relationship with nature has never been something I have put much thought into until now. Despite mostly growing up in the suburbs of the GTA, being outdoors and doing outdoor activities has always been a big part of my life. As a child, I grew up playing outside at local parks with friends, and spending a large portion of my summers going camping with my family in the Muskoka area. As a kid nature served as a great avenue for me to go out, and let my curiosity run wild as I always got excited to see the vastness of the forest and the various species that call it home. I also took great enjoyment in learning outdoors activities such as fishing and canoeing, often getting lost on the lake with my brother.

Little Me Fishing in Halliburton, Ontario at age 7

As I got older, this desire to pursue nature continued to be a big part of my life, and it became a way for me to escape the stresses of life for awhile and enjoy the simplicity and peace of nature. It was for this reason that I began pursuing nature in a more formal sense in my teen years, spending my summers as a camp counsellor, in which I served as the canoeing, and wilderness skills instructor at an overnight camp near Huntsville, Ontario. This pursuit of nature was even further exemplified after I turned 18, and decided to take on the job of being a tree planter in the very far north of Ontario. This became a very challenging job for me in which I experienced a level of closeness to nature that I had never experienced before. It was a job that required me to live solely in a tent for about 3 months in the spring, spending around 8-10 hours of my day alone in the forest trying to plant as many trees as I possibly could. It was in this time that I was able to fully engage myself in nature and experience the many challenges and beauties of the great outdoors such as frequent black bear and moose encounters, the horrors of blackfly season, and the harsh weather conditions that came with being in close proximity to lake superior.

Me with my Planting Crew in June of 2021 (yes that is snow in early June, lol)

It was through these challenges that I further defined my passion for being in nature and trying to aid in the preservation of nature in whatever small way a 18-20 year old could. After participating in a total of 2 planting seasons in counting and a total of about 5 and a half months living in a tent in the forest I have planted a total of 200,000 pine and spruce trees, which helped replenish parts of forests that were harvested by the logging industry. This is where I can truly say that I felt a "sense of place in nature" as I was apart of a team of like-minded people who shared a similar passion and curiosity toward nature as I did, and I was happy to get to experience the joys and many challenges that came from such a labour intensive, hazardous job with this group of people. Even though I only knew most of my team members for a few months, it felt like a lot longer since we had experienced many struggles together such as getting eaten alive, and planting during harsh thunderstorms and hail storms, as well as 40 degree temperatures in July (how's that for workplace safety?). Through this experience I gained an even greater appreciation for nature than before, and through this I felt the motivation to continue to help preserve the nature that I am so grateful for. This is why I ended up making the choice to pursue the study of the Environment at the University of Guelph, as I am now in my third year of the Environmental Management program. This is also why this course appealed to me, as I hope to continue to challenge myself and continue to learn more about my place in nature and how I can continue to serve in it's preservation.

[lupically]

#F40B32 | RYOMEN SUKUNA.

genre | light fluff, light angst, very faint romance undertone 

word count | 2616

warning | mention of death, mention of injury, mention of killing, decapitation 

note | i just wanted to try my hand at writing for a villain that is obviously irredeemable in a semi-realistic way.

what happens when you are irredeemable? you will fall in love anyway.

but ryomen sukuna wasn't in love with you. after all, he had killed you one too few times to claim that he was in love with you.

the first time he killed you was out of instinct. you were an intruder touching his soul the way mahito did, except you barged in without any malicious intention. he had gazed over your fallen body with mild interest then; a mere mortal, yet you emerged from thin air into his locked tight domain without dying?

the second time he killed you was a choice. he gave you not a minute to explain yourself, even though you had wasted the minute asking questions about his identity and the skull-filled area instead of giving him any valuable information about yourself. he had been fed up, he was never a man of patience, so he killed you with a wave of his hand and returned to his dull life alone on his throne.

the third time he killed you—he did not kill you. there was no third time; people liked to say the third time's charm but sukuna believed no such superstition. he killed you twice already and each time, you came back unscathed, both your body and your memories. whether he liked it or not, killing you for the third time would do neither you nor him any benefit, so he kept you alive.

you were afraid of him. he could tell, and he meant for things to be that way until he realized it served as a misfortune on his part. in order to understand this mystery—your sudden appearance into his domain, as well as your inability to leave it and his inability to kick you out—he has to gain some piece of information about you, but you were too shaken up from being murdered to talk to him at all.

sukuna's patience was reaching a breaking point and he thought about torturing it out of you, but he understood that humans are fragile, way more fragile than your typical jujutsu sorcerer. he could accidentally kill you and you would return with no scars and more unwilling to converse with him than before. then it was the waiting game all over again.

he wasn't planning on going through such a dull ordeal again, so he left you be and waited for you to calm yourself down.

the first time you talked to him, you asked him a question.

"are you going to kill me?" you asked him.

sukuna peered down at you from his throne. small, frightened, curled into a ball with no desire to touch the skeletons at his feet, but you looked up at him out of politeness.

he scoffed, displeased. "no, but i always can."

the second time you talked to him, it was to exchange a brief introduction.

"ryomen sukuna," he hummed curtly then he nudged his chin toward you. "your turn."

you shuffled up to your knees and sat down on your heels. your fingers fidgetted at your lap as you timidly peered up at his tattooed, disinterested expression.

"[full name]," you said with a nod, unable to meet his eyes. "nice–nice to meet you, sukuna-san..."

the third time you talked to him, you flinched.

"ma–may i ask you two questions... if i can...?" you asked, for the first time standing up to face him directly.

sukuna leaned away from his propped-up arm. after taking a better look at you, accessing your figure analytically despite having seen you move around slowly for days already, he shoved his hands into the sleeves of his robe and he suddenly jumped down from his throne to stand before you.

you pursed your lips nervously over his looming figure, face heating up with terrible anxiety while your eyes darted down to the watery ground. oh, his presence has been so overwhelmingly deadly that you forgot your white tennis shoes were stained red and your pastel ankle socks remained wet. you did not dare to complain, not even in your head.

"i'll allow it," he said.

"where am i?" you quickly asked.

"an innate domain," he replied.

you have questions, but you decided not to ask. you only nodded after breathing out a soft sigh to calm your nerves. this man constantly sounded condescending, he was kicking open your comfort zone without actively doing anything that would make you uncomfortable.

"okay..." you said, "thank you."

"aren't you going to ask me another question?" he stated with a raise of his brow. "you wanted to ask me two questions."

you gulped, blinking hopelessly at the air as a grimace appeared on your face. "the first question was if i can ask you two questions, and the second one is about where i am... so that makes two."

oh, a meticulously cautious one, and somewhat humorous too he would give you that. sukuna scoffed loudly, but it was less out of annoyance and more out of disbelief of your incredible dullness. however, as plain as you were, he has grown accustomed to your presence; the scent of fear that bounced off of you and the fact that he cannot kill you at will.

"you must be dying to know what this place is, are you not, you brat?" sukuna asked.

when he saw the flashes in your eyes, he knew he had you down through and through. all you were was but someone who was too afraid to say what they want, which was just as he expected from you. you wouldn't cause him trouble, you never could.

reaching his hand out of his sleeve, he stayed silent despite seeing the way you flinched with your eyes shut at his raised hand. his movement had been slow, but that was an involuntary response, an instinct that he didn't craft into you. he wondered what it was.

"you can ask me three more questions," he said as he pushed the heel of his palm against the curve of your head. he was gentle at first, then he clamped his hand down on your head as he bent his waist to meet your eyes. he laughed. "i'll allow it."

he could keep you here. he has no choice but to keep you here, and he would kill you once he realized he has the ability to. but for now, perhaps he could act a little civil, something like a human being but one that people would hate to the core.

except he was met with a little obstacle in the way, which was that you were no bad company.

the first time sukuna gained a liking toward you was when you asked him a peculiar question.

"sukuna-san," you called one time when there was only silence within the innate domain.

you sat on a bed of skulls, one that you tentatively asked the king of curses to make you so you wouldn't have to lean on the rib-cage structure and sit in water for slumber.

he denied it at first. calling you names and threatening you about ever requesting something from him—a bed in his domain? fucking atrocious. but your insomnia was killing you; you hated the blood water and your neck burned whenever you wake up having it arched at the worst angle possible.

he did not grow soft. he just made one so he didn't have to watch you sleep in his peripheral vision.

"hmm."

"why do you think curses exist?"

he raised a brow at you. "did i not teach you that before?"

"you did, sorry," you nodded, "then do you believe in god?"

"where the fuck is this coming from, you brat?"

"from where i came, god is good. but from what i am seeing, whether from where i came from or here, everything goes against that value," you muttered loudly as you pulled at your fingers. "cursed spirits harm people. if i can argue that way, i think cursed spirits are harmful within themselves."

"if god is good, and god is real, why would this happen," you said. "why should we feel negative emotions? why do we have the ability to create cursed spirits? why do curses like you exist?"

he furrowed his brows in irritation. have you reduced him to mere curses? have you reduced him to nothing but a brainless being that only takes joy in the suffering of others? no matter how he approached your words, he felt infuriated that you could minimize his importance to simply being a bad person.

he was much more than a bad person, much more than just a pain! he has ideals, he has goals and ambitions, he has wit and strength! he has anger and malevolence and power beyond which your soul could ever contain and endure! he was ryomen sukuna, the strongest curse in a thousand years and more!

he will fucking kill you.

"i'm really glad you're here, though," you finished off softly, an unknowing smile on your face as you rubbed your thumbs weakly together.

he will kill you.

"for a long time, i was told my anger and hatred aren't real. that they don't and should not exist, and i learned to bury them to the ground so they never appear on the surface again," you said, your innocent smile audible to his ears and making his chest twitch with guilt.

"cursed spirits' existence is proof that my negative emotions are real. they may be a problem, but i am not crazy for having them because they're here. they became something, they're here and alive."

he will... he will kill you.

"i just think it's unfair to put the blame on cursed spirits and cursed energy alone when the society's standard guarantees the manifestation of them," you said. "if my anger got out to the world in the form of a monster and it hurt someone, i'll forgive it. i will forgive myself."

he...

"you don't need to hear this, i wish i had your confidence, but i have to say it," you looked up and smiled at him, "i'm a little glad you're here, sukuna-san."

he will kill–he will ki–

the second time, he went stoic.

mahito was too smart for his own good. the first thing he noticed when he entered the soul within yuji's body was the way sukuna has the collar of your shirt clutched in his hand and your body pulled close to his side. it was a glance, he had one small glimpse of you both before he was kicked out of the domain.

your face was riddled with tears—crying, disappointed, and frustrated, but why? for the transfigured human whose name mahito almost forgot, or because sukuna just had one of the most sadistic outbursts you have ever witnessed.

and sukuna, the king, the lord, the almighty—didn't he look annoyed. well, not annoyed, per se. angry, mad, overwhelmed, knowing, protective. very, very, very protective; glowing eyes that glared at mahito's patched up face, fingers that gripped at your shirt so tightly he could rip the fabric apart, an aura that was ready to spit any moment if mahito so much as reach a finger toward your direction.

you meant something to ryomen sukuna. mahito realized that, so the second time he entered the innate domain, he killed you.

right before his eyes, with a cunning and triumphant smile, your neck cracked and your skin broke, and mahito tore your head off just before he was once again beat out of the domain.

sukuna tried to heal you. he tried to seal your head back to your lifeless body, time and time again pushing your decapitated head against your haphazardly cut neck. but his reverse curse technique wasn't healing you. your skin refused to piece itself back together, you refused to come back to him. time passed and he was getting mad, he was going batshit crazy trying to force himself out of this body.

bastard! bastard! bastard! he was supposed to kill you! he was supposed to be the one to kill you! he would murder that patch-faced piece of shit! he would kill mahito! and he would destroy the whole world, light it on fire and kill all that wasn't worthy of his time! he would jump universes, light-years, the bloodstream of the galaxy to find you and bring you back to him. he would—

"sukuna-san, i'm sorry i took a while! i thought you were fighting–holy shit, is that me?"

the third time, sukuna admitted to himself.

"what kind of flowers do you like, sukuna-san?" you asked, voice drowsy and your legs dangling after you climbed on one of the bones of the rib-cage structure.

"why does it matter?" he asked from his throne, eyeing you carefully.

your were a clumsy idiot. you could fall anytime.

"it doesn't, but it's flowers," you mumbled with your chin leaning against the bone, eyes threatening to close. "sukuna... sukuna..."

"what?" he snapped.

"i like lilies, the red ones," you said with a silly grin. "will you visit me when i die? sukuna... will you bring... mmm... bring red lilies..."

he looked ahead. your death; your grave, decorated with red lilies, protected and preserved with his curses. your death—he gritted his teeth. he refused to think about it. it was a waste of time.

or maybe he simply hated the idea of your death.

sukuna has not gone soft. he was irredeemable; a killer, a curse, a tragedy to descend upon mankind. he was not good and he never would be, nor did he ever have the intention to be good.

still, from you, there was proof that he could be more. what was left of his being; his anger and his torture, what was left within the gaps of his hell, the rare softness that once was there, belonged to you now.

you were the vessel that pocketed all that he could potentially become if he wasn't born to be ryomen sukuna, a version of him that you have witnessed. within you, there was proof that he did not only exist to hurt people, but also to validate madness and pain, to acknowledge passion in its murderous wakefulness. within you, there was proof that within himself, there are pieces of what it means to be human and alive.

hearing your soft breath, sukuna looked up to find you asleep with your head against the bone. your arms barely supported your weight and you were threatening to fall off as you dozed with faint snores. he stared at you, his fingers twitching, then he finally waved his hand so he could bring you away from the ribcage and to where he sat.

he paid no mind to subtlety when he set you on his lap. his hand supported your back while he kept your head pressed against his shoulder. his other arm went around your body, preventing you from falling off the throne made only for him to sit on. when he was done adjusting to the new sitting position, he relaxed.

brushing the hair away from your face, he stared down at you with disinterest, but his heart pumped and pumped for you to be warm and well, his arms tightened for you to sleep soundly.

"i will bring you all the red lilies you want," he whispered, the back of his finger gliding past your soft cheek. you did not smell like fear when you fall asleep, you did not smell like fear now even when you looked at him. "i will allow myself that."

after all, ryomen sukuna was only fond of you. very, very fond of you. 

#also sorry if i used the wrong terms !!! #and i am still working on the childe piece !!! #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #sukuna #sukuna imagine #sukuna x oc #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk anime #jujutsu #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jujutsu x reader #jujutsu imagine #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader