#doe writes stuff

[idiotsonlyevent]

i wonder where the idea of chilchuck being a deadbeat came from when theres like. no textual evidence for it ?

he knows what all of them are up to; he still writes to flertom and she sent him his neckwarmer, so that to me implies that they at least have a somewhat positive relationship?

its more ambiguous with meijack and puckpatti, but since meijack is also a picklock, i wouldn't be surprised if he taught her himself, considering how trades are often passed down through families, and because he talks about sending people to her if he dies.

also the way he talks about puckpatti is very like... it's obvious he wants her to take things more seriously, but he's accepting, and his tone here reads more fond to me than anything else.

like, he keeps his daughters' old toys under his desk? that doesn't scream 'deadbeat' at all, it screams 'empty nester' who doesn't know how to reach out or is scared to do so

EDIT: i know a lot of the 'deadbeat dad' stuff is jokes, but some people are Not joking and genuinely think chilchuck is a bad dad. this post is not saying that you cant joke about it; it is just outlining what canon shows regarding his (clearly positive) relationship with his kids.

#i love making fun of him but he is like. Very Explicitly Not a Deadbeat Dad lol #WHY DID I WRITE SO MUCH AGAINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN #CHILCHUCK I AHTE EYOUUUUUIUUU #WHY DOES HE DO THIS TO ME.... #EDIT: 'i thought the deadbeat dad stuff was a joke do ppl actually think that?' YES thats why i made this post 😭😭 bc ive seen ppl genuinely #say that hes a bad dad/husband! #L.txt #dungeon meshi #chilposting #long post #chilchuck #chilchuck tims

[bluerosefox]

Of Tiny Tots, Mistaken Identities, and Reunions

Seventeen year old Damian Wayne is dragged to a business deal outside of Gotham (along with his father and Drake), mostly to keep up appearances that the family does work outside of Gotham, networking, and because Damian does need to learn the ropes of the company, he decides to head outside the meeting with the Manson family to get a breather (mainly cause the Manson's were annoying him fully, it was like they were trying to suck up towards Damian and trying to push their daughter on him but at the same time he caught them almost insulting and hostile towards him before they would stop and correct themselves) when out of the blue a three year old toddler with black hair comes running over with a cheerful "Daddy!" and latches onto his leg.

Damian is stunned in place but feels frozen when he hears a voice, older and almost identical to his own but he can detect a familiarity in it, a voice he only hears in his dreams nowadays say.

"Ellie, no! That's not me Starlight! I'm so sorry dude-"

When Damian turned his head towards the voice he's meet with an near identical face, granted there were some minor differences, but very, very familiar pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. Eyes that were somehow full of life, which shouldn't be possible because the last time he saw those eyes they had been dim and milked over years ago. The speaker had become startled at the his sudden turn and the words that he had been saying had quickly died out when he too took in Damian's features.

"D...Damian?..." the name came out so soft and small that Damian almost didn't hear it but he did.

And before Damian could stop himself, he spoke a name he hadn't dared utter in years.

"Danyal."

His twin looked like he had just seen a ghost, and Damian was sure he looked the same. And given the last time they had last saw each other it was no wonder they both looked like death warmed over them for a moment.

After all... Damian had failed to protect his brother, Danyal al Ghul all those years ago on a botched mission.

His bother who... wasn't dead.

His brother who was looking like he wanted to run but was keeping himself rooted in his spot.

His brother whose eyes were glancing downwards and seemed so nervous.

His brother who knew the little girl, Ellie, still hugging his legs.

His brother who had... responded and corrected her mix up when she had called Damian 'Daddy.'

And oh, she's looking up at him and making grabby hands wanting to be picked up and she has Danyal's eyes and his nose and-

Oh... Damian.... Damian's an uncle it seems.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danielle phantom #damian and danny are twins #BUT with a tiny twist #Danielle got destabilized and the only way to save her was to deage her and let her grow up naturally #Danny steps up to be her dad #its rough but he's got his friends and family to help out #Ellie is a tiny gremlin toddler that loves wandering off #her having ghost powers does not help #Danny was dropping by Sam's to give her some stuff before heading home #he didn't know there was a meeting taking place #nor that it was the Wayne's in the building #Danny died on a botched mission and was brought back by the pits but a portal whisked him away as he woke up in the waters #it spat him out on the road outside Amity and he wandered into town with his mind hazy and confused #He's later found by the Fenton's whose equipment detected the portal opening but only found Danny. #good Fenton parents? I wanna say good Fenton's in this one. #Anyways they take him in. Like a feral wet cat lol. #Danny knows going back to the League is a death sentience since he failed and felt like a failure and was holding his brother back #so he stayed away... and grew to love his life outside the League #He isn't ready to see Damian after all this time though. Not at all. But neither is Damian so its even.

[talesfromthecrypts]

Tragic that to a whole bunch of people “horror” just means “slashers and haunted houses” and not a wide range of fascinating stories and subgenres that explore humanity 

#'you like horror? just say you like to watch people die' #what if i told you that hostel and the conjuring are not all that horror encompasses #even the horror subreddit does stuff like this #also saying shit like 'people who write horror are fucked in the head' is a very ugly look

[becca-e-barnes]

Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #anon #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #needy!bucky #please no one think this is what a healthy relationship is like #but this really really does something for me #the level of nasty in me for someone who'd say stuff like that is truly endless #I'll be the ✨freakiest ✨wife for someone some day #but for now I've fallen in love with the eviee sendal Doc Martens #and I can't do that #because I know if I get them I'm going to feel way too hot #and that would be dangerous for everyone tbh

[lesbianshepard]

me reading a post about non-existent fictional mobsters from a movie that has never existed

#goncharov #look my opinion on goncharov is that it's still funny #i still like the meme #i love the idea of posting your reactions to a film that does not exist #because the beauty is that it's SUCH a great film that all others pale in comparison #written by a man whose mother was italian and whose father was a license plate #i love the art! #i love the idea! #but some stuff is like #you have not seen a mafia movie have you #stop trying to bring it into our reality!!! #you are not going to be able to write the greatest mafia movie that has ever existed #WAIT YOU CAN EDIT TAGS NOW WITHOUT REWRITING #I JUST DRAGGED ONE AROUND AND I CAN EDIT IT????

[stevebabey]

"Alright, here we go!" The bartender announces, leaning up to place the drinks on the bar.

"That's one whiskey, neat—" He says, sliding the lowball cocktail glass with amber liquid in front of Eddie.

"—And one Whammin' Slammin' Booty-Bangin' Pina Colada."

He places the extravagant cocktail in front of Steve. It's decorated to the nines with a straw, an umbrella, a piece of pineapple, and a little bit of tinsel on a toothpick. A whole party decoration in a drink.

"You guys have a good night." The bartender says warmly, already moving down the bar to tend to other customers.

Eddie stares down at the whiskey in the glass before him and pouts a little. Beside him and watching his boyfriend closely, Steve rolls his eyes.

"Oh, quit being dramatic," Steve says, sliding the cocktail across the bar so it's in front of Eddie, who had ordered it. He steals the glass of whiskey back at the same time.

"It happens every time."

"It happens most times."

"That isn't much better!" Eddie protests, even as he leans down and takes a long sip from the straw while they both get to their feet and leave the bar. Steve's hunting for a table they can snag, his eyes narrowed in focus. Eddie follows him blindly, his cocktail cupped in both hands.

"I'm serious, Steve! What is it about this adorable face—" He says, gesturing to himself, barely letting go of the straw to talk. It doesn't seem to faze him that Steve doesn't even glance back. "—Says I don't want to enjoy a Whammin' Bammin' Big Booty Colada?"

Steve comes to a stop, pausing his search for a moment to look back at Eddie. His expression seems unimpressed on the surface but Eddie can see his lips twitching up at the corners.

"We've had this conversation too many times, babe." He sighs halfheartedly and takes a quick sip of his own whiskey, eyes casting back out across the bar. "You have scary dog energy, you know this. You specifically dress like this on purpose."

Eddie picks up the pineapple wedged on the edge of his glass and bites into it, sending it down with another sip of his cocktail as Steve leads them further into the back of the bar. He finally spots a spare empty table.

"C'mon, I think I found one." Steve urges, one hand snaking back to make sure Eddie's following.

"Is it a crime to wish to not fall victim to stereotypes?" Eddie prattles on, following Steve duly by slipping his hand into Steve's outstretched one. His cocktail wobbles precariously as he takes another gulp.

"Like when that waitress gave me your awful black coffee! And you got my delicious delicacy that I paid extra hard-earned money for..."

+

i like to think that when steve and eddie go out, people always lean into their assumptions and are like hmm ok preppy boy with the polo? oh he gets the fruity cocktail! and eddie is always like >:( i don't want this expensive puddle of piss gimme the bonanza supreme cocktail pls. like excuse me i paid for that.

#steve's got expensive booze taste bcos he partied lots as a teen & he got into his dad's expensive stuff #and now it's all he likes #eddie doesn't drink loads cos he usually smokes instead so when he does drink he never wants to taste the alcohol #and he likes that they're pretty and come w fun things :) #steve also likes black coffee cos he was on that Sports Diet through hs #eddie packs his with sugar and creamer if he can #hehehe have this headcanon <3 from me to you #that i thought of rn #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #heheheheh <3 #i also love drinks with the most insane names. like please tell me you know what i mean #ruby writes steddie

[samijey]

when your wrestling show suddenly turns into fanfiction

#wwe #wweedit #sami zayn #jey uso #samijey #wwe raw #monday night raw #jeysami #stuff i made #im writing an essay in my head rn #jey even does the slide thing goodnight yall

[zaritarazi]

Watched all the helnik scenes in s2 i'll post more spoilery content later today but i'll say i wanted more but i do get that they're setting up for if they get the big one and the last scene of theirs that they shared this season... ugh. My children.

#sab spoilers #helnik #honestly having cal and dani in all the promo stuff has been so good for me. #also! excited to report this does not deter my fic writing. it only strengthens it

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2

The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy

Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing

Word Count; 2.7 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past. 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted) 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?

But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.

His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down. 

The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.

And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.

When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.

But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!” 

Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.

As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”

Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.

Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.

Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.

…

Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.

At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.

Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route. 

Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–

“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.

The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.

The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?

In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.

Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome… 

Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie. 

… Well this is no good now, is it?

…

…

…

 When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.

Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.

The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”

You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.

The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”

Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.

Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.

He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.” 

You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?” 

Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.” 

Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.” 

You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!

“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?

…

…

Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485

Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.

“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”

A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further. 

Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE! 

Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.

“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”

The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”

…

…

…

…

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #still building up that aspect; yeah it's gonna be a while but that allows for some yearning #got another labyrinth mention in there #i decided to be nice to reader where they don't end up smelling like rotten eggs for their entire stay in the underground; #; it would be funny but reader has been through enough without needing to smell bad on top of that #twst labyrinth au #gilf enjoyers rejoice #why does rewriting take me so damn long? i even deleted scenes that i didn't feel like keeping #writing is pain and suffering yet it brings me immense joy... not gonna elaborate on that #not a bunch of fun stuff hidden in the tags this time but oh well

[possibly-not-a-ghost]

Fake Cryptids, Real Ghosts

Ok, so dp x dc/batfam because this AU has me by the throat but what if it's the fake cryptid batfamily AU who never joined the JL.

Just...imagine it. The Batfamily has been protecting Gotham quietly but fiercely by scaring the daylights out of criminals as creatures that go bump in the night. A bit of stage magic, frightening method acting, contortion, a whole language comprised of chirps, growls, and body language, and the best tech possible and you've got a recipe for striking fear into the hearts of everyone.

They've got shrines on the rooftops, vaguely on the JL radar (Cause really, who's gonna believe that Gotham, one of the worst cities has a demon problem? Constantine? Homeboy took one look at Gotham and went Nope.) and they're protected cause any self respecting Gothamite wouldn't go spilling the beans to Outsiders. The Bats keep them safe. Who would believe them anyways?

Enter half dead, half alive Danny Fenton.

Danny Fenton who has a best friend's named Tucker and Sam who find out about the Gotham Cryptids, and go absolutely ham on research because here lies something,a bunch of someone's who are Other. Maybe they're creepy but they're cool and they're Heroes and they help people.

Sure, at first it was an attempt from Sam and Tucker to help their best friend feel less alone in the face of other, more 'normal' heroes and people out there in the world. Maybe they try to further bury the Bats online cause if anyone understands keeping on the down low, it would be Amity Parker's. For awhile, Danny Fenton, sometimes Phantom is simply happy to know he's not alone.

Then he's outed and his sister who's long since been ecto-contaiminated is put at risk there's nowhere that seems safer. Gotham is a chaotic city, even without the Bats factoring in. After all Gotham has (Demons-Spirits-Creatures?) The Bats already. Who would care if a halfa and his sister hide out there? As long as they're respectful of their territory, it'll be fine right? Besides, they've got to warn the Bats anyways about the GIW and government. They're coming after ghosts, who knows if they'll be next? Spooky things have to look out for each other after all.

Cue shenanigans as Phantom who stops hiding all of his creepier traits as a ghost walks up to the Totally Human but Faking it Batman with really thoughtful gifts for all of their shrines (And one fruitcake), no heartbeat and an earnest plea for a safe haven in their Haunt because the Ancients taught him manners and the importance of respecting another entities territory.

#dp x dc #dc #batman #danny fenton #danny phantom #fake cryptid batfam #This has been living rent free in my head for the last week just picture how hysterical it would be #The Batfam in this AU who go about like normal people during the day but are Dramatic Nightmares come nighttime #rook posts stuff #rook writes stuff #kinda #Danny and Jazz being SO RESPECTFUL of the Bats #and while Danny knows they aren't ghosts he never tries to pry because they deserve their secrets #meanwhile in the Batcave Bruce and fam are going nuts because here's a literal dead child asking for a safe haven in Gotham and HOW DOES HE #FILL OUT THE PAPERWORK FOR A DEAD CHILD ALFRED HELP #and when they finally meet Jazz while still being unaware of Danny's Halfa status (He forgot okay? He's used to the ghosts who already Know #cause his sister is alive but we found ancient art depicting Phantom and ok family of choice is a Thing we respect but also what #OR Danny and Jazz try to hide in this AU even from the Bats but honestly all the ideas in my head keep making me snort #fake cryptids real ghosts au

[oozedninjas]

Hello! Not exactly sure what’s all covered under “dark stuff” but I thought I’d shoot my shot.

Do you have any ideas or head canons concerning how badly the turtles might um…. Mark someone up during a close encounter? Like how badly the animal instincts might take over, or if they were even aware of it happening?

18+ /NSFW / Leo's the oldest with 29 / Everyone is susceptible to leaving marks at one time or another. In this essay, I will—

Leo is more susceptible to this act during his rut, when you're having angry sex, or those nights when he feels like acting a little mean (just because you love it). He sucks on your skin, and it's that suction that leaves the mark—most of the time reddish, almost purple. Always heals fast, for which he's gotta keep making them.

Raphel adores biting you. His marks are always deep purple and borderline black. Looks more like you had an accident, which makes them extra hard to hide under makeup or clothing. They take forever to heal, and he kind of gets offended if you cover them up.

Donatello is respectful while marking you. If you request him not to place his love bites in visible areas he'll listen. There's a catch, however. No neck marks? Perfect. How about splattering your entire torso with multiple different-sized hickeys? Sounds fair, right? I swear he'd be the most smooth talker, and yet somehow has an absolutely ravishing mischievous smirk.

Mikey uses them more when he's feeling slightly more possessive of you. Typically, the urge to mark you intensifies as his mating season comes close to its peak. My dude goes feral. He loves it when you mark him too (I mean if somehow you could go through that hard surface of his skin). And you can bet he shows them off proudly!

#what's covered under dark stuff? *insert mean girls meme “the limit does not exist” #don't be afraid to request what you wanna read #as long as it isn't horribly specific (as in you want me to write you a full fic with oc and all lol) it's all good! #If I do not want to do smt then I won't #don't worry too much about that #and always mind the warnings in the stuff I post #tw dark content #tmnt bayverse #tmnt dark content #tmnt dark turtles #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader

[tardis-stowaway]

The Doctor: He [Isaac Newton] was, wasn't he? He was so hot. Oh, is that who I am now?

So what personality trait of his new regeneration is the Doctor mildly surprised by here? He doesn't sound shocked, but it seems to be enough of a difference to mention out loud. A lot of people seem to be interpreting the that as referring to being into guys. To be fair, I think that's how Donna understands it in her next line.

My understanding of the line is slightly different. Feeling attraction to men (along with other genders) is nothing new to the Doctor. Nine and Captain Jack Harkness kissed full on the lips onscreen! Look at any interactions between Ten and the Master. Consider that changing gender presentation is something that any Time Lord might do at any regeneration, so treating gender as a limiting factor in attraction wouldn't make sense for the Doctor.

No, what has changed is that Fourteen is the sort of person who will directly admit when he finds someone hot while gossiping with his BFF. Not brilliant, or fascinating, or even beautiful, but hot. That's what's new.

#doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #wild blue yonder #doctor who #of course from a doylist perspective that line does point out to the audience #that the doctor is going to be SUPER QUEER henceforth #absolutely no more deniability #but from a watsonian perspective on what the Doctor means #i think they're just not used to being able to admit to these sort of feelings so easily and casually #i have found a new hill and i will die on it #tardis-stowaway's writing & stuff #fourteenth doctor

[sableeira]

whoever edited that bsd official art to make it look like chuuya is holding onto dazai’s arm will be put on trial for irrevocably changing my brain chemistry and making me so much worse

the original and the edit in question. this artwork really makes me crave a mid to late 19th century historical au where Chuuya is a swordsman struggling with changes to his job due to the meiji restoration and with Dazai as a detective/private investigator who hires Chuuya as his bodyguard when a seemingly harmless investigation turns dangerous. they kind of hate each other (as per usual) but Chuuya needs the job and Dazai, while he proclaims to dislike chuuya, is also very smitten with chuuya’s fighting style and temper (as per usual).

#also the person who edited that bsd dead apple official art to make it look like they are holding hands will be put in jail without a trial #the red ribbon tangled around their intertwined hands 😵‍💫 #<- does that person know the impact and damage that edit did to society? #oh yeah btw I’m not sure if the clothes fit mid - late 19th century but those decades make for a cool setting #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #soukoku #skk #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #osamu dazai #bsd chuuya #my art #bsd #I need more skk historical aus :( if I had the time and a solid story idea (more than just the vibes) I would write this #although I feel like I wouldn’t be able to do that setting justice with my current knowledge about mid to late 19th century japan #I finished this one a month ago and just didn’t post it because there was stuff that I wasn’t happy with (finally managed to fix them lol)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

#tumblr polls #hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today #still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual #They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully #it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec #fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since #I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm #ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos #or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things #I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming #over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY #I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb #e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about #different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see #stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I #can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud.. #but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone #said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects #the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm

[bleue-flora]

Ok, I recently wrote an essay [here] talking about the definition and duties of civil engineering as well as the ethics because of the brain rot @swordfright gave me with calling Dream Sam’s ultimate engineering project. So, because I actually am a civil engineer I took it upon myself to design the title and summary of quantities sheets just like I do at work for roads but with Dream as the project instead. And in honor of angst day sponsor by @sixteenth-day-event, I figured I’d share it because I feel like it kinda works for the prison of the mind prompt.

“Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair.”

{These are very similar to the actual sheets I make day to day, which I shall not share for the sake of doxing my location, but yea pretty much everything has a significance. Some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense but that was because I was more so taking inventory of what we see in lore (so you know I counted ;) lol)}

#sixteenthdayevent #AAANNNNNGGST #Ah and now you see why I’ve been digging up all the prison lore and inventories ;D…. my brain rot is too powerful #still never got wardens torment enchants though :( did for the shovel and how which I’ll now have to write torture scenes for… #so ummm stay tuned for that in Misery Loves An Idiot… Dream going to have lots of fun I’m sure >:) #c!dream #dsmp #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp dream #dsmp analysis #dsmpblr #prison arc #dsmp art #pandora’s vault has a singular purpose #pandora’s vault #c!dream fanart #blue does art apparently #ah Sam… such a good engineer… if only he realized Dream was a person not a condemned structure oof #if y’all are curious enough I might share a irl work example with different numbers and stuff but didn’t want to bore you XD #happy angst day :)… wait isn’t that everyday? lol #can we talk about how I’ve done all of these prompts as descriptions of metaphors and stuff kinda funny #civil engineering

[cuubism]

"A van Dyck," Dream drawled, dragging a light finger along the gilt frame of the painting propped on the top of one of Hob's shelves. Hob really should do something more formal with that. "Interesting thing to have in your living room, Hob."

"I tell people it's a print," Hob said, coming to stand beside him and handing him his tea.

"Oh, but it is not." There was a smirk dancing on Dream's lips, Hob knew without even looking at him directly.

"Makes sense that you'd be able to tell," he sighed.

"Of course. Just how did you come across such a thing?"

"Well, I was still mingling with the aristocracy in the early 17th century. Met some interesting people." He shrugged. "Really should have sold it when I was, well, destitute, but couldn't bear to. Managed to stash it away. One of the few things I have of that time, actually."

"I can only imagine you had more than one valuable thing in your possession over the centuries," Dream mused, sipping his tea. "Why this one?"

Oh, God. He knew, didn't he?

Hob rubbed at the back of his neck. "Reminded me of you."

Hob had never known much about art, particularly back then. He hardly would consider himself a collector and certainly not a connoisseur. But that particular portrait had caught his attention immediately for its similarity to Dream.

The likeness was, indeed, striking. His hair was longer than it had been when they'd met in 1589, sweeping over his shoulders, and his features were half-draped in shadow, but his eyes. Hob would know that haughty, intense gaze anywhere.

He'd never quite discounted the idea that it was a portrait of his stranger, except that he couldn't imagine him having the patience or cause to sit for it, or the desire to be immortalized in that way.

"It is me," said Dream.

"What? Seriously?" Hob turned to stare at him and found Dream already looking back, ethereal and lovely. There was only one lamp on in the living room, night falling around them, and it cast his face in a similar light to the portrait, soft gleaming skin and plunging darkness as backdrop, limitless shadow in his eyes. "You, allowing a portrait? You're not having me on?"

"I do not joke." Dream took a step closer to him, setting his tea aside on a table. "I suppose I must have been in good humor that day."

Hob raised both eyebrows. "Oh, uh-huh, you in good humor?"

Dream's lips ticked up in a half-smile. "It happens occasionally."

Hob leaned against the shelf, careful not to jostle the painting. "For someone who so disdains the waking world, you sure are very aware of the art scene."

Dream leaned beside him, tilting his head. "You might consider me a patron of the arts."

Hob chuckled. "A patron? Or an inspiration?" He reached out and dragged his thumb along Dream's lower lip. "Dream?"

"A lover of artists, perhaps."

"I'm sure." Hob swept a hand along his cheek, breaking up the light like he was dragging a wet brush through paint. "You look like you could have stepped right out of that painting right now. You could have stepped out of any painting."

Dream looked at him from under his lashes. "Are you calling me a work of art, Hob Gadling?"

"Always."

Then Hob kissed him, hands framing his beautiful face. Dream was like an artwork, constant in essence but changing interpretation in every new light. Hob could imagine how many people over the centuries had had a fleeting encounter with him and come away changed, just as he had.

Dream hovered near him when they parted. Hob looked over to the painting again. No mere depiction could capture Dream in all of his colors, but it really was a rather good try. Van Dyck had gotten the depth of his eyes just right.

"The Baroque period suits you," Hob told him.

"Now who knows something about art?"

"I've picked up a few things over the years. I'm in love with the world's greatest artist, after all."

Dream moved in as if to kiss him, but paused to speak against Hob's mouth. "There are other works of me out in the world, if you care to seek them out."

"Don't open that challenge because I will do it," Hob informed him, quite seriously.

"I hope so." There was a sharp gleam in Dream's eyes. Hob could only imagine what kinds of paintings might inspire that look. "I look forward to seeing what you find."

#this is so like. specific to MY interests XD #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #dreamling fic #i think about Dream and art a lot #and also Hob having random weird expensive stuff just casually in his flat #kinda wanted to use a more dramatic baroque artist for dream than van dyck but i just really like the way he does EYES and GAZES #also he worked in england so hob could have conceivably come across his work? idk #i don't actually know anything about art i just guesstimate #my writing