Housewife Situation Fem!reader With Abby Anderson???? Fluff And Smut Or Whtv You Want!!

Not really smutty (though it could lead into it) but how about tav helping halsin brush and braid his hair? This man deserves to be pampered and have someone care for him as much as he does for everyone else

WOWOWOWOWOW I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! This was so much fun to write thank you Anon!! I hope this turned out the way you were hoping!! Halsin deserves all the pampering!!! Enjoy!

A Moment Together

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin x Tav!Reader

Summary: After a long day of hard work and battle, you and Halsin decide to spend the remaining hours of the day in each other's company during which you are eager to make sure he feels as relaxed as possible.

Notes: Fluff (so much that it's disgusting lol), hair brushing, no spoilers, just good vibes :)

“Alright, that should be enough.”

The heavy pieces of firewood you had spent almost the entirety of the day gathering fell on the ground with a loud thud, the positive exclamations of gratitude from the others soon following. It was always a rather tedious task, but it proved to be one of the most rewarding. No one could sleep or relax after a hard day in the coldness of the night unless you happened to have an infernal engine for a heart. Karlach was lucky in that aspect, you thought.

The sun still peaked through the thick trees of the forest, though it would not take long until it would retreat behind the horizon. Looking around the camp, everyone seemed just about ready to shed the weight and responsibilities of working to find a solution to your parasite issue and enjoy some much needed rest. The tents were put up, the bedrolls were set around the campfire and the heavy pieces of gear and armor were abandoned in favor of something more comfortable.

You ought to do the same soon.

However, your mind soon wandered when a certain druid entered your vision. A smile crept up to your lips. You were reminded of something you had said earlier in the day, a promise of a moment for just the two of you. Halsin was quick to relax his gaze as he looked over the camp and noticed how everyone seemed content. Should there have been an issue, he would have most likely been the first one to volunteer and offer his help, being the kindhearted druid he was. The thought only made you smile more.

As soon as his eyes found you, you were quick to point to the edge of the camp with a tilt of your head, your feet slowly carrying towards the direction. You were inviting him for a stroll, as you had discussed previously, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten, as he quickly followed you.

The camp slowly disappeared behind you and once it did, Halsin was quick to intertwine his large hand with yours, a gesture he often did when you shared a moment together. You were sure the rest of the camp was privy to the way you two shared glances, some of them were rather… perceptive, and secrecy wasn’t something either of you desired. Perhaps it merely felt more natural when there weren’t others present. Halsin certainly seemed more at ease like this.

“You seemed quite busy today,” you commented, remembering how you hadn’t seen him much all day. It was not terribly unusual, but to say you did not miss him would be a lie. He hummed.

“There was a shortage of potions and other healing items. So I made a longer journey to find a merchant.” You nodded as you listened, but also frowned your brows.

“We do have you and Shadowheart with us…” If you were honest, you were not sure why spend the effort to gather potions when your group consisted of more than one healer. Your thoughtful muttering reached his pointed ears and he was quick to let out a hearty chuckle.

“That may be so. But it does not hurt to be resourceful. We do journey separately at times, after all.”

“That’s true.”

You could not help but smile. Halsin had always been looking over everyone, making sure to offer his help whenever it may have been needed. His kindness was admirable, and in truth, it was needed during times like these.

You continued to walk by his side, his larger stature perfectly framed by the setting sun that continued to seep through the branches and leaves. To not look at him would have been a crime, so you allowed your eyes to wander, taking in his utter beauty as you walked. He had a small but fulfilled smile upon his lips, and his eyes idly looked around ever so slightly, marveling at the grace of nature.

The journey led you two to a gentle stream that flowed through the forest. The water was crystal clear and the warm colors of the sun were reflected on the calmly moving surface beautifully. You were sure this same stream spread into the vast lake just next to your camp. 

Giving glances at each other, the silent decision was made to rest here and unwind after yet another long day, maybe even fall asleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and Halsin always made sure to keep you warmer in ways a mere campfire never could.

You carefully sat down on the ground, Halsin keeping your hand in his until you were fully seated. He then laid down, placing his weary head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile that made your heart swell. The habit of his was incredibly endearing, there was just something about this druid, built like the most durable stone wall, gently lying beneath you at the mercy of your touch.

Smiling at him, your hands immediately went to his hair, pulling it back until all of it pooled in your lap. Tilting your head, you looked at his locks, noticing how they had some woodchips and tangles in them. Not a rare sight, quite natural, even. But you frowned, though playfully.

“Shall I brush it?” You asked, making sure to not pull on the knots with your fingers. A small chuckle left his lips.

“I have my doubts you’ll let me get up if I do not accept.” The sarcasm in his tone was obvious, it made you scoff jokingly.

“Of course not. What would the others think?” You sighed and groaned dramatically. “Imagine how horrified Astarion would be!”

Halsin laughed, that pleasant sound ringing in your ears long after he stopped. His laugh was contagious, so you briefly joined him, while reaching for your pocket and pulling out a comb. You looked down at him again.

“Well, what say you?” Your smirk was once again jesting, but his smile was genuine.

“Go right ahead, my heart.”

Smiling, you carefully began running the comb through his hair, noting how he let out a deep breath at the sensation. Brushing his hair had become somewhat of a regular activity, you did it for him every time you could. He enjoyed it. To be surrounded by nature and touched by you so attentively, he could not even begin to think about any better way to forget about the harshness of reality that affected everyone.

You had always thought that Halsin was far too considerate for his own good. He often put himself before others, especially with you. Though it was an incredibly valuable trait, it often left you wondering if anyone ever did anything for him. That’s why you helped him whenever you could, that’s why you held his hands and asked if he needed anything, that’s why you brushed his hair.

Halsin’s breathing was calm and paired with the gentle trickle of the stream as the sun slowly set, you felt like all the horrid things that happened around you did not exist, even if it was for a brief moment. 

His hair was mostly rid of its previous debris and the comb flowed through it effortlessly. You were more or less done but felt like something was missing. Placing the comb down, you ran your fingers through his locks, marveling at the length. His long hair was always open, flowing freely in the wind. As nature intended, you thought.

You took a brief look at him. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but you doubted this was the case. Regardless, he looked peaceful and you felt a wave of satisfaction hit you. It would be a lie to claim that it didn’t feel rewarding to see this druid, so concerned for everyone else and working tirelessly to ensure safety among everyone, at ease and utterly relaxed.

Gathering his hair into your hands, you sectioned it and began interweaving them. Halsin surely felt it, as his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. You had never done this before.

“Trust the process,” you said to which he gave a humorous hum. His hand rested on his abdomen and he took a deep breath, simply enjoying the way your fingers touched and gently tugged his brown hair.

As you reached the end of the braid, you looked for something to tie it with. You spotted a flower, white petals practically glowing in the moonlight. It had already been plucked from the ground, so you did not feel bad for reusing it for the greater good. You took a small piece from the base of the stem and used it to tie the end of the braid, to ensure that it would stay put.

You looked at your work and Halsin seemed to sense that you were done, as he slowly stood up, and turned to you. And as you looked at him, you could not stop the heat that spread across your cheek.

The loose braid rested upon his broad shoulder and his large frame was illuminated by the moon, giving him an almost otherworldly aura. His fingers brushed along the braid, there was some surprise in his expression, but it quickly melted away when he noticed how you looked at him.

“I suppose I can compete with Astarion now?” Halsin chuckled as he spoke to which you couldn’t contain a smile.

“Well, almost.” Your hand reached for the flower you had used to tie his hair with and you scooted closer to him, lifting yourself so your eyes were on the same level. Even when sitting down, he towered over you. Carefully, you brushed some of his hair that framed his face behind his ear, the flower following soon after. It came to rest against his ear, giving him a look that seemed to blow you away.

You retreated from him, grinning on the outside, but screaming and squealing inside at how incredibly beautiful he looked.

“Now I’d say you have a chance.”

Halsin pulled you to him as you both laughed, holding you close. He was warm, he always was. You pulled away to look at him, the affectionate sparkle in his hazel eyes warming your heart.

“Thank you, my heart. You… Do so much for me.”

If only he realized. This was nothing compared to what he did not only for you but for everyone. You smiled for what felt like the thousandth time and kissed him, keeping your hands on the sides of his face. The night had fallen, and all possible thoughts of returning to the others faded away. Tonight, you would sleep under the stars, dozing off to the soothing sounds of the stream with him next to you before repeating the grueling routine of the day all over again.

But it felt worth it. For moments like these, you’d do anything.

~

Feel free to support me on ko-fi!❤️

HORROR/THRILLER/SUSPENSEFUL STORY SETTINGS AND PLOT IDEAS:

[Feel free to use any prompt that shouts out to you! I would very much appreciate a tag if you post a story that was inspired by a prompt of mine! Happy writing everyone!]

A

amusement park (where the ride breaks down with everyone trapped on them, and there is a killer loose in the park…)

art gallery (where paintings trap visitors inside the frame and force them relive the scene the painting was based on...)

aquarium (where the protagonist gets trapped inside one of the shark tanks...)

B

basement (where the basement floods, there’s no way out, and there’s something weird swimming in the water…)

blood bank (where a blood bank is run by a vampire cult…)

board game cafe (where a group of teenagers are forced to play a game of snakes and ladders in real life, with real snakes and real ladders…)

bunker (where the captor holds his victim hostage in an old bunker and convinces the girl that he is protecting her from a world apocalypse…)

C

car (where a taxi driver picks up the wrong person and fears he may never live to tell the tale…)

castle (where the gargoyles come to life and attack the royal family…)

circus (where everyone who is hypnotized by the magician turns into a member of his unholy cult…)

D

desert (where a group of travellers are swept away by a sand storm and wake up in a haunted oasis…)

dungeon (where the visitors pay to torture subjects and the subjects are paid to be tortured…)

F

farmhouse (where the scarecrow comes to life and attempts to create a new body for himself with the farming family’s bodies…)

forest (where a lone hiker is caught in a bear trap in the woods and unable to escape, the bear is close by…)

G

graveyard (where the dead buried at the local cemetery come back to life and all the living people in the town die, except for you…)

H

haunted house (where a house manages to kill anyone who enters it…)

hotel (where the concierge is a vampire with a thirst for his visitors’ blood…)

house (where the family home falls into a sinkhole that leads straight to hell…)

I

island (where a new species of insect is discovered, and when the travellers get bitten, they start mutating into bugs…)

J

jungle (where a group of explorers start disappearing one by one during a rescue mission deep in the jungle…)

L

library (where the ghost of character killed off in a series haunts anyone who reads the book…)

M

military base (where a group of soldiers end up face to face against their canines who have somehow turned into werewolves…)

O

opera house (where the killer murders the musicians with their instruments...)

operating theatre (where an unwilling subject wakes up part way through the operation and is unable to move no matter how hard they try...)

P

prison (where the inmates are released from their cells and the officers are locked up in their place, leaving them at the complete mercy of the prisoners…)

psychiatric ward (where patients are forced to fight to the death in padded cells…)

pyramid (where archeologists discover an ancient tomb and unleash an ancient curse…)

R

railroad (where a cowboy spends his final hours repenting his sins as he lays tied to a railroad track…)

research centre (where the subjects loose the ability to either see, hear, or speak…)

S

sewer (where a family takes cover in the sewers when a nuclear missile is headed towards the city…)

shipwreck (where divers explore an ancient shipwreck, but the pirates are very much still alive and do not take well trespassers…)

space (where there is an explosion on ship leaving the crew without enough oxygen, there are only four extra tanks left, but there are six people…)

submarine (where there's an unknown killer aboard and no way to escape the deep ocean...)

T

tavern (where a knight is seduced and kidnapped by a handmaid who plans on avenging he sisters murder in the most heartless of ways…)

U

underwater (where evil merpeople kidnap scuba divers...)

university (where a group of students engineers create an artificial intelligence that goes rogue and attempts to create a real life body out of human remains…)

V

virtual reality (where virtual reality becomes a true reality, and to escape, 10 players have to survive all levels of the game, but after every level, the loser dies…)

Z

zoo (where the animals turn into zombies and attack their abusers…)

Lazy Morning

Fandom: The Last Of Us Pairing: Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader Warnings: Mentions of… nakedness? lol

Keep reading

Blood of A Rose - Part 2 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - Following the events of their night together, (y/n) and Art explore their dynamics together to form a perfect duet of blood and beauty.

Notes - Was requested to expand on the relationship between Art and the reader and will happily oblige! It’s honestly so fun to write Art’s character, I hate how little there is out there for him. My man needs attention.

P.S - Might branch this into a series of one shots showing their relationship more and whatnot either from my own ideas or requests from you guys for what you’d like to see with them. Hell, might even make a whole blog based on them. Thoughts?

Word Count - 4,091

Warning(s) - Blood, gore, violence, morally ambiguous reader

Song Inspiration -

Cody Frost - Process

Screams were heard all around them, piercing and agonizing. Everything was set ablaze, yet she felt no heat. She felt no pain. Even as the smoke clouded, she could breathe without struggle. (Y/n) craned her neck to look up at the clown before her, eyes wide with wonder, with trust. Her life was in the hands of a murderer and yet she felt safe. She felt protected.

His usual grin did not show, yet he didn’t frown. His face remained neutral while his eyes said it all, filled with an untamed obsession, possessiveness and dare she say adoration. His gloved hands rose to her jaw, cupping it delicately as he guided her to train her eyes on him, to ignore all that happened around them. As she stared up at him, her hands came to rest over his own, and with a look of his eyes she was told -

He would be her past, present and future. 

(Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft light of the moon that peaked through the boards of the window. The colder air bit at her skin through her sweater and she shivered. 

She sat up and looked around curiously, seeing that she was now in the makeshift bedroom from before. She then looked down and saw that she was on the mattress, however a tattered blanket now lay on top of it beneath her, shielding her from whatever mold and rot had been on it. 

Her legs closed when she felt a light breeze brush against the tear in her pantyhose, heightening the chill. (Y/n) stretched her arms out and stood, then heard what sounded like someone hammering from a different room. Her mind raced with the events of what she assumed was still the same night. Her face burned, stomach fluttering as the ghost of Art’s caress tickled her skin. 

She took a deep breath and left the room, quietly making her way to where the sound came from. Mindful of the debris on the floor as she grew near, she entered the room with the workbench, Art hunched over it on the stool as he hammered away at something. 

When (y/n) stepped closer he paused. Her breath stilled as his head slowly turned to the side, yet not over his shoulder to look at her, letting her know that he knew she was there. 

Once he returned to work she released the breath she held and made her way over to him, seeing as he hammered a screw-eye hook of sorts into the end of a chair leg. 

His face was focused, not smiling or putting on his usual dramatics as he worked. It felt strange to her, seeing him this way. It reminded her that even if he was a murderer he wasn’t excused from putting in the work to make it happen, whether it was a hobby of his or not. It reminded her that he still had interests and needs just as everyone else. It was oddly humanizing and she couldn’t help but feel privileged to see him in such a state. 

He motioned to a nearby corner and (y/n) turned to see another stool placed there, then moved to bring it over and sat on top of it to continue to watch him. He then motioned to her - conversing as he worked - then symbolized sleep as if to ask how she slept, then proceeded to pick up an average sized chain. 

“It was actually quite nice. Best sleep I’ve had in a while.” 

With chain in hand, he clapped excitedly, happy with her response. He hooked it to the screw, bending and twisting the metal to make sure it was secure as (y/n) watched casually, as if it was just another day. 

“Is it… Is it still the same night?” 

He shook his head and her eyes widened. Art turned to see it and began to laugh to himself. 

“How long has it been?” 

He held up a finger after his laughing fit died down, going back to his work. 

“One day…? But how?” 

He nodded and glanced over at her, watching as she looked down, growing more and more confused. He patted her shoulder and she looked up at him, seeing him point to himself, then her. 

“Because of you?” Her brow furrowed, then her expression changed as she chuckled. “Are you saying I slept for so long because of what we did?” 

Art shrugged and made a cheeky expression, but she became confused again when he then shook his head. He motioned to himself again, then pointed to her head. 

“You… forced me to stay asleep?” He eagerly nodded, smiling and pointing at her to say she got it. “But how? Did you knock me out?” His head shook. “Did you drug me?” 

His head shook again and he rolled his eyes, arms falling to his sides in exasperation. He then motioned to his entire body, pointed to his head with both fingers, then to her head again. 

“You were in my head…?” He nodded and clapped. “How is that even possible?” 

Art shrugged dramatically with a mischievous smile. (Y/n) paused and slowly met his eyes. 

“The dream…?” She asked, and in the back of her head she already knew the answer. 

The clown only solidified it with a raise of his eyebrows, mouth forming an ‘o’ and shrugging as an ‘oops’. (Y/n) could only laugh, not knowing how exactly to react to someone with such supposed supernatural abilities. 

She wasn’t sure if she had finally grown to become insane or if it was all a hallucination, all in her head. But as she thought to the night before she found that it all felt too real, too vivid to be fake. 

(Y/n) suddenly felt exposed and crossed one leg over the other, tugging down the skirt of her dress as her face grew warm. Art looked over at her, face twisting into mischief as his eyes squinted with his smile. He wiggled his eyebrows when she looked at him and she turned her face away bashfully. 

He reached over to grasp her chin, coaxing her to look back at him. He nudged his head in her direction, grinning to encourage her to do the same. Once her smile returned and she giggled, he playfully booped her nose and turned back to his workbench, his smile now remaining on his dramatized face as he worked. 

The minutes seemed to drag on as he worked, but not once was she bored. She watched eagerly, fixated as his hands toyed and shaped the weapon he was creating. His actions were all well thought out and deliberate, masculine yet graceful as his fingers caressed the wood and metal. 

Deeming the weapon satisfactory, he raised it by the handle - the chair leg - and examined it carefully. Three chains hung from the screw-eye, knife tips, nails and spikes decorating the length of them. 

“Is that a flail?” (Y/n) gasped. 

Art’s head whipped over to look at her and patted her thigh, the hand holding the weapon shaking excitedly as he nodded. He watched as she eyed his new creation, then an idea formed in his head. His gaze shifted to look over at her, now smiling sadistically. She caught the change in his expression and she began to smile, catching on to what he was thinking. 

“I’ll get the camera!” She hopped off of the stool.

-

After some convincing from her end, they stopped by her house for her to quickly change into something more comfortable. It wasn’t until she began to beg sweetly that he finally agreed, unable to say no to her more innocent nature, regardless of her interests.

Not a person was in sight as they were shielded by the dark of the night, hardly any street lamps in the area they currently wandered. 

“Does the bag ever get heavy for you?” (Y/n) asked as they walked through the ghosted roads. 

Art shook his head, using his other arm to exaggerate flexing his muscles and she laughed. 

“I bet that bag is the reason you’re so strong, lugging it around everywhere and all.” He waved her off at the compliment and tickled her ear with his finger. “I’m serious! You make it look like it weighs nothing.” 

As they walked, they began to see the edge of the town ahead of them. Or rather, Art saw it. (Y/n) was too focused on the clown beside her, taking in all of his features under the starry night, the moon perfectly accentuating every curvature and jagged edge, every - 

She was suddenly yanked to the side of the sidewalk he walked on and she gasped, looking over to see a pole that she nearly walked straight into. She looked back over at Art who had a hand on his hip with a frown. He pointed at her, his eyes, then the direction they were walking in. 

“Sorry…” She giggled as she blushed, nervously fiddling with the camera hanging around her neck. 

He pulled back his arm and reached for her, pulling her to stand on the opposite side where he was previously walking to prevent it from happening again. He motioned for her to continue walking, rolling his eyes from behind her before he set his pace next to her again. 

As they reached the town, Art began to look around carefully, more alert in the brighter area while (y/n) had a mind of her own. While he kept an eye out for his next victim, she focused on finding her next inspiration. She supposed they went hand in hand, but she was never one to strive for the bare minimum. 

He then paused, holding his arm out for her to do the same, knowing she very well would’ve kept on walking. Hearing the voices of what seemed to be a couple arguing, he listened carefully to find where they came from. 

Then he spotted them. 

A man and woman arguing next to a car. The man was halfway in the driver’s seat while the woman stood next to it, flailing her arms. 

Art then heard a shutter sound from beside him, slowly looking over to see (y/n) holding her camera up, taking photos of the argument before them. She looked over at him and shrugged innocently.

She put down the camera and the two of them watched the pursuing argument, equally invested in the exchange. The man then slammed the car door shut. 

“They just broke up for sure.” (Y/n) whispered to Art and he looked down at her with a widespread grin, wiggling his eyebrows then nodding towards the woman who was now making her way into what seemed to be her villa. 

Art crossed the street, making his way over with (y/n) in tow and walking up the small set of stairs leading to the front door. He looked down at her, then turned to the door in front of them and tested the door knob, unsurprisingly finding it locked. 

He gave (y/n) a ‘wait’ signal and set down his bag, cracking his neck and stretching his arms out in front of him with linked fingers. Art then gave her a side smile, then suddenly kicked the door open. She froze with wide eyes, yet her stomach betrayed her as it flipped at his show of masked strength. 

He picked up his bag again and grabbed her wrist to pull her inside with him, closing the door behind them. Footsteps quickly descended the staircase in front of them and they looked up to see the same woman from before, chest heaving in fear at the sight before her. 

While (y/n) quickly snapped a photo of her expression, Art dropped his bag again and wiggled his fingers at her in a wave with a menacing smile. He then held up a finger to her and began to look through his bag as the woman remained frozen like a deer in the headlights, watching as he pulled out a scalpel and the new flail. He turned to (y/n) and raised his eyebrows, then bolted upstairs after the woman who fled. 

As they thumped around upstairs, she began to explore the villa, looking for things to use in her next piece. The woman’s screams and shrieks were muffled behind the door of the room they were in and were drowned out, inevitably useless. 

(Y/n) eyed a smaller box TV that sat on an entertainment stand in the living room, an idea popping into her head. She walked over to it and unplugged it in preparation, resuming her wandering when the noise above her suddenly stopped. 

She heard a door open upstairs followed by footsteps descending the staircase. (Y/n) looked towards it, seeing a now bloodied Art giving her the ‘ok’ to go upstairs when she was ready. 

“Could you do me a huge favor?” She asked as he made his way over to her, shaking off the blood on his hands and nodding. “Could you help take the TV upstairs for me? I want to use it as the head.” 

Art made a surprised expression, clapping his hands giddily at the idea. He then paused with a finger up, making a sawing motion and asked for her to wait a moment, disappearing upstairs. Not long after, he returned with his saw and put it back in his bag, happily walking over to the TV and tipping his hat at (y/n) when he walked by. He then picked it up as if it was nothing but a feather and made his way back upstairs, (y/n) following closely behind as she giggled. 

They entered the woman’s bedroom, her body splayed out on the bed with small to large chunks of her skin and fat missing, head nowhere to be found. 

As he placed the TV where the woman’s head used to be, (y/n) admired the slashes left from the flail. Some were rather deep, others shallow. Their marks tore at the dress that the woman wore, some simulating claw marks while other areas were simply shredded. 

“Could you move the arms to look like this?” (Y/n) posed her own arms to grab the sides of her head. Art carefully took note of the angle and position, then moved the victim’s arms to reflect it. “Perfect.” (Y/n) smiled, looking up at the ceiling to see LED lights lined along the edge. 

Art watched as she wandered to find the remote, smiling to herself once she found it and changed the color to red and turned off the main light. She looked around the floor, watching for anything she could trip on before lifting a foot onto the bed. 

Art’s face twisted into panic and his hands shook, stepping next to her and helping her up onto the bed. 

“Thank you.” She responded softly, one of his hands still holding her waist to help steady her as she readied her camera. He followed her as she captured different angles, some standing while others she crouched. 

(Y/n) took his hand to help herself down, smiling up at him as he grinned at her excitedly. Just as the night before, she flipped through the pictures she took, and just the same, she felt his closeness. 

The only difference was rather than nerves, she felt relaxed. She felt calm and comfortable despite the mess around them that he caused. His hand that rested on her far shoulder radiated heat through her layers of clothing and she subconsciously leaned into him, head pressed against his chest while he pointed at the photos he favored. 

His silent presence, twisted grin plastered on his painted face, drew her in like a moth to flame. (Y/n) found herself unable to refuse, an invisible pull guiding her to him. 

At first, their following encounters were just a few hours in the night together. Art would appear when (y/n) least expected, showing up at odd hours, his silent insistence drawing her out into the dark. However, she began to notice her sleeping pattern slowly change. She grew more tired sooner, falling asleep earlier and earlier, waking up in a strange nocturnal rhythm. 

At night, she would wake to find him waiting, patient but always silent, eager to lead her deeper into his world. (Y/n), feeling a strange sense of peace in his presence, began to follow him without question. And after only a few weeks of their odd relationship, she began to grow used to it. Comfortable with it. Comfortable with him.

“Hey, Art.” (Y/n) greeted him as she yawned, fresh out of bed to find him rummaging through her kitchen. 

He looked up at her and waved, a widespread grin bringing out her own smile in her vulnerable, post-dream state. He gushed at the sight, elbows resting on the countertop with his chin in his hands, blinking dreamily at her as she walked over to him with her arms out. 

Art popped up, engulfing her in his arms as she sighed happily at the feeling. He rocked the two of them slowly, the rhythm almost putting her back to sleep. 

Slowly, (Y/n)’s life became consumed by Art. The gruesome art pieces she crafted from his handiwork grew bolder, more disturbing, as if the dark side of her creativity was being unleashed by his influence. 

In her dreams, she would see him. His painted face looming over her, silent but omnipresent. At first, the dreams were disorienting. But over time, they became comforting. She would wake, feeling a strange longing for him, for the connection they shared in the darkest corners of her mind, weaving its way to the forefront. 

As the days bled into nights, (y/n) found herself thinking of Art constantly. He was always there, even when he wasn’t physically present; a haunting figure in her thoughts. His silence, once goofy, became a form of comfort. She began to crave his presence, yearning for their time together. 

And so (y/n) found herself growing dependent on him. Whether it was for her art or simply her attachment to him, how safe she felt with him. He understood her in a way no other person could, and she reciprocated. 

The way he was so brutal and aggressive with others, yet gentle and thoughtful with herself only drew her closer to him. He treated others as nuisances, problems to deal with and get rid of while he treated her as delicately as the rose that brought them together. The contrast was endearing to her, and she couldn’t help but be entranced. 

Though such treatment came with an undisclosed amount of protection and possessiveness, to which she learned rather quickly. 

“It just came out wrong, I’m sorry!” (Y/n) giggled. Art mocked her, rolling his eyes as his mouth and hand mocked her talking. The culprit of such a fit? 

She called his nose cute.

“Your nose is attractive, is what I meant. Believe me, you’re still as frightening as ever.” 

He threw her a side eye, then dramatically sighed and waved it all off. 

“Hey!” She stopped them in the middle of the sidewalk, a lit street lamp looming over them as they faced each other. “I’m sorry.” She gave him her best doe eyes, then stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

His grin slowly returned, hand coming over the top of where she kissed him and she giggled. He then took her hand in his own, continuing their nightly walk.

Later on, they heard slurred conversation ahead of them, seemingly male in nature. (Y/n) tried to slow their walk, but Art looked back at her and encouraged her to keep up with him. As they grew closer, they passed an alleyway that held a small group of drunks, hearing a whistle of a cat call. 

The clown immediately stilled, and (y/n) quickly grew worried. 

“Hey, where ya goin’ babes?” One of the men called, stepping out of the alleyway with a bottle in hand. “Not with the mime, I hope.” 

Art and (y/n) slowly turned to face the man, their hands still interlocked as she gripped his tighter and stepped closer to him, practically hiding behind him like a scared child. 

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you actually wanna be with the guy!”

“Ey, c’mon man, stop messin’ with them, she’s not worth it.” Another man stepped out, followed by a third to watch the scene play out. Art’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, twisted grin remaining as he set down his bag and quickly reached into it. 

“Obviously not if -“ Two shots suddenly pierced through the night air, the second and third men collapsing to the ground while Art aimed a handgun at the first who initiated. 

(Y/n)’s hold on his hand moved to his arm, clutching onto it as the bodies began to puddle with blood beneath them. She looked up at Art, his grin replaced with a frown and it sent a chill down her spine. She had only seen him genuinely angry maybe once or twice, and whatever followed was far from pleasant, to say the least. 

“H-hey, I was just jokin’ man, I was just jokin’!” The drunk held up his hands in surrender, but the clown wasn’t buying it. 

As he continued to ramble and apologize, begging for his life, Art kept the gun pointed at his head. He watched as the man slowly broke in front of him, growing increasingly desperate. Art’s grin then slowly reappeared, giving the man a glimmer of hope.

Then Art suddenly aimed at the man’s thigh and fired, doing the same to his other until he fell to his knees. Art tossed the gun into his bag and rummaged through it further, his face twisting into a sadistic expression when he pulled out a box cutter flashing it to the man as a tease before stalking over to him.

(Y/n) turned around, facing away from the chaos and gore as she plugged her ears to drown out the noise. Even still, the sound seeped through as the man struggled and cried out helplessly. His fight was futile compared to Art’s strength, and the latter simply ragdolled him as if the man was just a child. 

When the noise stopped, she unplugged her ears and felt a hand pat her waist, turning to see Art wipe off his now bloodied hands. She turned to see his mess, and his face suddenly grew concerned when she pouted. 

“I don’t have my camera.” (Y/n) nearly whined, and Art mimicked her frown. 

At first, (y/n) resisted the growing dependency, confused by her attachment. But he began to seep into her thoughts with concerning frequency. The dreams became more vivid, more intimate, filled with his silent adoration as he twisted her perception of reality until he became the center of her world, the only constant in her life, planting seeds of affection until it became impossible to imagine her life without him.

His obsession with her only grew. He would stand over her while she slept during the day, watching her with an almost childlike fascination. When she woke, his silent attention made her feel adored, special. The way he looked at her, possessive yet affectionate. His presence was her comfort, his protection her shield.

Eventually, (y/n) could no longer distinguish where her own desires ended and his began. The thought of being apart from him was unbearable. She began to seek him out during the day when she should have been resting, desperate to be near him. 

When they were together, it was a twisted dance of blood and beauty. A duet that no one else could understand. She would create art from his chaos, and he would watch her with silent adoration, the two of them locked in a world where only they existed.

They grew to share a dark, intimate bond. (Y/n), once a quiet and reserved artist, had become consumed by Art - both his work and his presence. He had molded her. And she, willingly or not, had come to love him for it. 

As their connection deepened, (y/n) knew that she could never return to the life she had before. The darkness was too intoxicating, the bond too strong. 

She belonged to him now, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Jellicle Cats of Baldur’s Gate 😼🔪

random art the clown headcanons part 1

warnings: these are actually random, which means some contain nsfw!.

all he does is troll. like literally troll around. especially with you. always pulling little pranks on you with the little pale girl. there’s not one day where he doesn’t at least chuckle at you. not one.

if y’all are in a relationship be prepared for his random horny/cuddly activities. one second he’s pissed at you, the next he’s cuddling you and giving you kisses.

speaking of him being pissed, you’ll know when he’s pissed off at you. he’ll give the silent treatment. even tho he can’t talk he won’t even look at you. kinda like a child. but he’s a big baby, what do you expect?

he eats off your plate all the time. so does the little girl. “y’all might as well just take the whole damn plate.” you said one time. they laughed…and then took it.

plays hide and seek with you at least once a week.

if you brush your nose against his, while looking in his eyes… be prepared to not be able to walk for a while.

he’s so nosy. always in your phone and shit, or whatever device you mostly use, he’s all up in it.

okay that’s all i have right now. hope you enjoyed!

masterlist!

Light in the Darkness (4)

Abby Anderson X Fem!Reader, College AU, Part 4

Since part three was so short I am double posting, so when there is a small journal entry or “thought” chapter then there will usually be a double post because the content was so short.

But I’m not promising anything.

TW: Anxiety, overthinking.

PT. 3 PT. 5

Chapter 4–> Line Without a Hook, Ricky Montgomery, Week 12

Lyrics: “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around

And I’ve found a way to kill the sound.”

Fuck Max, Tatum, and Bailey. Not literally, but figuratively. Why? Because now you’re in a small club with way too loud music, way too many flashing lights, and way too much of the smell of alcohol induced vomit that could very well be touching every nook and cranny of this hell hole. Of course, you did say yes, so it was partly your fault.

But you were still overstimulated, about ready to explode with anxiety. Tatum was already on the dance floor, dragging Max along behind her. Max was Tatum’s designated ‘gay’ best friend. They’ve always clicked, it’s like they share the same brain.

Bailey was with you, sitting at the bar. She wasn’t drinking, having been the next designated driver in the trio’s rotation. You offered to drive, but they all declined. Maybe it’s because you never went to bars or clubs with them, which was fine. They’ve never been your scene. But Max begged you to go, he felt bad because he thought you felt left out. Even though you explained that you didn’t feel left out, you said you’d go with them tonight.

“You good?” Bailey asked, leaning close to you so you could hear her over the music. Shrugging, you turn to look at the dance floor. There were a lot of people pressed close together, grinding, making out. You couldn’t find Max or Tatum anymore, but someone else caught your eye.

Owen, Abby’s ex-boyfriend. He was making his way through the crowd, stopping to grind on an unsuspecting woman. It was weird, maybe disgusting. Definitely disgusting. You had a weird feeling about him, even when you were bitching at him because of the Red Bull.

“I’m going out onto the floor,” Bailey said, catching your attention.

Nodding, you watch Bailey blend into the crowd. Turning back to the bar, you pulled out your phone. Pinterest seemed to be a good app to get your mind off of the club, cats being your choice of obsession.

“Hey, you’re Abby’s lab partner, right?” A voice too close to your ear caused you to flinch, scaring you from looking at a bright orange picture of a cat.

Turning your head, you saw a dark-skinned girl sitting on the stool next to you. Her body faced the crowd of sweaty college students, but her face was towards you.

“Yeah,” You frown, “Why?” Does Abby talk about you? You would probably be brought up because of her project, but hopefully nothing else would be brought up.

Abby’s friend widened her eyes, “Oh, she didn’t say anything bad, I promise.” She looked as if she let out some horrible secret, her deep brown eyes shifting away. “I’m Nora, I’d like to say I’m Abby’s best friend.”

You raised an eyebrow, not sure why she would approach you out of nowhere. Let alone at a club, and without Abby near. She already knew your name, which was weird considering Abby barely talked about her friends.

“Nice to meet you, is Abby here with you?” You ask, not trying to show your suspicion. It seemed to work, Nora visibly relaxing as she hummed, looking around the crowd.

“She is,” Nora said, “ She arrived a couple hours ago.”

Nodding, you bit your lip, “You brought Owen too?” You couldn’t hide the slight disgust tinting your voice.

Nora sighed, “He’s like the Scott Disick of our group.”

“God he looks like it.”

Nora smirked at your comment, then she pointed at the crowd, “There she is.” You follow the direction of her finger to see Abby. She was dancing with Owen, not seductively, more like she was trying to get away. Nora turned towards you, “I’m going to join them, hope to see you again.” She hopped off the stool, slightly jogging over to her two friends.

After Nora left, the music seemed to have gotten louder. It pounded through your skull, causing a fog in your brain. Looking around for a bathroom, you sighed in relief when you found one. It wasn’t too far away, just on the other side of the bar.

Making your way over, you cupped your hands over your ears to try to muffle the bass. You pushed the door open, surprised at how small the bathroom was. There were two small stalls on your right, a dingy light bulb flickering above your head. Both stalls were occupied, so you walked to the far side of the room, leaning your back against the wall.

As cramped as the room felt, it did muffle the music enough for you to gather our thoughts. You pulled your phone out again, going back to the pictures of cats to distract you from your anxiety. One of the stall doors opened, and you glanced up to see a woman with smeared lipstick and disheveled hair stagger out. She glanced at you, but then turned to pull the door open.

As she pulled the door, she kind of stumbled backwards. Someone was on the other side, pushing the door open. The girl caught herself, cussing as she held onto the stall door behind her. The other girl, who was pushing the door open, apologized, appearing as she walked in.

Abby was the other girl, peering at the drunken one hanging onto the stall door. The drunk girl stood up, glaring up at Abby. She pushed her way past the blonde, calling her a “sightless whore,” as the door closed behind her.

The blonde shook her head, turning away from the door to see you. Her hair was in her signature braid, some stands having fallen out, they were framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the hot air from the outside, probably from the alcohol she’s consumed. Her blue eyes were blown wide, pupils almost overtaking her irises. She was wearing a cut-off black tee paired with green cargo pants and brown combat boots.

“Hey,” Abby murmured, a slur hinting at how drunk she may be. If she was blacked out, she definitely hid it well in front of you.

Giving a half-wave, you smile, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“In the bathroom?”

“Sure, we could say that,” You laugh, noticing the light dust of pink overshadowing the flushness of her cheeks.

Abby frowned, looking around the dingy bathroom. “Do you want to get out of here?” She asked, placing a hand on the back of her head.

“I didn’t drive.”

The blonde pulled out a set of keys, “I did, but I need a driver.”

With a quick text to Max, you decided to drive Abby to your dorm. You didn’t really have a choice, Abby, having been more drunk than you anticipated, passed out in the passenger's seat as soon as you both got into her car.

The drive back to your dorm was brief. What wasn’t easy was trying to get Abby to stand up to get to the building’s elevator.

The girl was heavy, leaning on you as the elevator rose to the third floor. Abby didn’t smell entirely of alcohol, hints of cedar coming through. Her hair smelled of Pantene, which made some sense. Abby seems like the type to stare at the shampoos, remember Selena liked Pantene, and decide to go with that one.

The elevator doors opened, forcing you to hoist Abby further onto your shoulder as you practically dragged her.

“For how muscular you are, you sure as hell ain’t using any of them,” You grumble, half-dragging the blonde. Thankfully, your dorm wasn’t too far from the elevator, and you made it with minimal casualties. The only one being Abby’s hair tie, which you decided to hate as you vowed never to go back to save it.

Sliding your key card, you push the door open. Abby seemed to have gained a bit of control of her legs, kind of helping you out as you made your way to the couch. Your energy was depleting quickly at the sight of the couch, running on fumes as you dropped her onto it. She landed face first, and if anything hurt, she didn’t show it. Your muscles that were previously screaming at you, seemed relieved as you hunched over.

Turning, you went back to close your door and turn on the main lights. You and Max bought nightlights for the dorm, having both not liking how dark the rooms could get.

Abby grumbled, catching your attention as you made your way back to the couch. She turned over onto her back, blinking languidly. You crouch, taking her boots off.

“Where am I?” She asked as you finished getting her boots off.

You sat on the floor, leaning your back against the couch. Abby dragged herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. She looked confused as she looked around, when her eyes met your face she seemed to have realized where she was. Her name left your lips, but nothing else.

“What?” You ask, staring at her ruffled hair that was quickly falling out of its braid.

Drearily, Abby patted the cushion beside her, “Sit with me.”

Standing up, you sat beside her, turning to face her. She was looking at you, back slightly hunched. You leaned forward, propping your elbows up onto your knees as you rested your head onto your hands.

“You’re so pretty,” Abby murmured, a hand slowly reaching up to touch your cheek.

She was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing. The heat that rose to your cheeks was embarrassing, a direct reaction to her touching you and her compliment. She was drunk, she couldn't be in the right state of mind. Abby leaned forward though, and you didn’t lean away. She was a couple inches now from your face. She had to be able to hear your heart racing, the loud thumping pounding in your ears.

“I mean it,” Abby whispered. “You’re so pretty.” Time slowed down as she leaned closer, her lips bridging the gap as she kissed you. Her lips weren’t chapped, having a minty taste to them. Abby kissed lightly, as if questioning you.

The blonde pulled away, suddenly looking sick. She leaned forward again, but this time not to kiss you. Instead, she puked onto your lap.

Posted on: 4/21/23

WC: 1,732

Bubba Sawyer Belly Appreciation Post

Lady Dimitrescu scolds Cassandra

You're my daughter!! Now act like it!

The continuation of tailor Astarion ✨️