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I have read all of the Barcus Wroot fanfiction there is on AO3 so that means one thing: I must write my own now.

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Woke up to a comment that I knew I’d get one day. The infamous “This character wouldn’t do this or act like this. This isn’t canon. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t know how to have fun.”

My brother in Christ is this your first time reading fanfiction? First time stumbling across a headcanon? Like duh my list of headcanons aren’t canonical. That’s what headcanons are.

“This character doesn’t act like this in the source material.” And I never said he did. But with the wave of my magic fanfiction wand he will be acting how I want him to act in the fanfiction I took time out of my day to write.

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mine

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a commission of Dammon I recently did !

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HIGGS MONAGHAN from DEATH STRANDING 2: ON THE BEACH

I need him. Biblically. Give me that robot rocker.

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ABE SAPIEN from HELLBOY (2004)

He’s very special to me, okay??

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ABE SAPIEN & LIZ SHERMAN from HELLBOY 2: THE GOLDEN ARMY (2008)

“You don’t need to do that. You can trust me. My readings are quite accurate.”

“Shut up, Abe! And get your damn hand away from the door.”

“You have nothing to fear. Despite appearances, I believe Red would be an excellent father figure.”

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Your lovely auntie takes care of you while you are sick 🧡

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"OMG YOU'RE DRIZZT DO'URDEN!!"

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SLASHERS REACTING TO YOUR DEATH

Author's note: Oh, anon, you have stirred up my desire to write angst. I can absolutely do that for you.

Warnings/notes: gender neutral reader, established relationships, descriptions of death, more specifically your death, some mentions of canon typical violence, displaying of corpses, angst and general feelings of anger, sadness, and despair

Characters included: Pennywise, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Art the Clown, Baby Firefly (consider this part 1 since I didn’t write for a lot of slashers in this one)

Pennywise

• He had bitten you too deep and realized far too late.

• Biting with you was usually different than with his victims. It was like his odd love language, a way of marking you, the clown's way of saying, "You're mine and I love you."

• But this time he slipped, his true nature coming out as he nuzzled against your neck. He didn't mean to. You have to understand, he didn't mean to…

• It was sudden, like a shark attack in the middle of an ocean. One moment he's kissing the spot and the next moment sharp teeth were embedded in the skin of your neck, sinking in, puncturing the veins.

• Whatever trance Pennywise was in quickly faded away at the sound of your scream.

• "No, no, no. My sweet, I'm so sorry. Please, no." He knew keeping his hunger in control was always going to be difficult but he had always kept it under wraps around you. That was no longer the case.

• For the first time in the billions of years the being had existed, Pennywise cried. His hand was wrapped around your throat but no amount of pressure was enough. You were gone.

• "Come back to me. I didn't mean to. Please, please."

• There's no telling how long he stayed there, laying by your body, head pressed into the cold skin of your corpse. Pennywise wasn't sure at first if he was capable of love. But as he laid there, as the days passed, he knew the longing in him was caused by one thing. Love. You were the first person he loved and you would be the last.

Michael Myers

• Why'd you have to get in the way? Why?

• Michael knew it was only a matter of time before Laurie Strode and the rest of Haddonfield would get courageous enough to come after him. It was inevitable. Spend years killing off townsfolk and eventually they would bite bake. What he never considered was you being in the middle of it. You were never apart of the equation…until now.

• They had him circled in the middle of the street, weapons in hand. They had finally grown tired of The Shape.

• You had went out looking for him, despite him wanting you to stay put in your own home.

• When you came across Michael being beaten by members of the town you foolishly stepped in, nearly throwing yourself between him and the others much to their shock.

• But you couldn't stop what was already in motion. One miscalculated swing of a baseball bat, intended for Myers, caused your vision to fade and your brain to stop.

• When Michael realized what had happened in his dazed state the usual rage inside of him swelled, powering him to stand, fueling him to end every life around him.

• Once he was finished he knelt down, picking you up and carrying you off. He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

• He spent time with your corpse, simply sitting beside you for god knows how long. He buried you in the backyard of his childhood home.

• He had seen death many times. He was the cause of many. But this one, losing you, seemed to darken his soul more.

• Until the moment of his own death you were the fuel behind every killing. When he saw others all he could think about was what was taken from him. They took you away, and for that they all would pay.

Thomas Hewitt

• It was an accident. A horrific accident but an accident nonetheless.

• There was a trespasser in their house, a lost hitchhiker that had decided they could wander into a stranger's home and turn hostile the moment they realized the Hewitt home wasn't abandoned.

• They had dodged Thomas' chainsaw and pushed you in between them and your husband, using your body as a buffer, a shield of safety, having no regard for your life.

• The chainsaw had slipped right into your abdomen. It happened so quickly that Thomas didn't have the time to stop himself before it was too late, his wound up momentum that was intended for the intruder sent the blade right into you.

• The intruder didn't get away. Hoyt had gotten to them before they even made it halfway to the driveway, shooting them in the back as they ran.

• You had crumpled to the ground, bleeding out on the hardwood floor.

• Thomas was a mess. Muffled, agonizing sobs came from behind his mask as he held you to his chest.

• "It's okay, Tommy. It was an accident. I love you," you said quietly into his chest. Your last breaths letting the words wheeze out of you.

• Despite your words, he blamed himself. He would always blame himself.

Art the Clown

• One of his victims had attacked you, stabbing both of you in a desperate attempt to get away.

• Normally you didn't join him on his little excursions but Art had insisted, silently urging you to join him. What a mistake that was.

• Getting stabbed didn't bother Art. Sure it hurt but it wasn't going to kill him. He wasn't sure anything could really put him in the ground, at least not for long. But you were different. There was no immortality to save you, no demonic forces.

• The knife had went in too deep. Far too deep for him to be able to do anything about it and far too deep for you to make it to any hospital.

• He held you, something that surprised both of you.

• He wasn't particularly sad. He didn't have much empathy and just because he kept you around didn't mean you were an exception. No tears were shed for you.

• You were his favorite though. And a wave of anger rushed over him as you bled out onto the ground below you. He was furious, angry that his favorite plaything had been taken from him, angry that you were still a regular human, angry that a filthy nobody was walking around instead of you.

• That's okay. He'll take care of it.

• The person who had killed you was found, obviously. And slain until they were unrecognizable, reduced to a pile of mushy flesh.

• As for you, you think he's going to let you go that easily? No, absolutely not. Your corpse makes a nice display in his makeshift workshop, a reminder of once was. He may or may not decorate you for the holidays…

Baby Firefly

• "Oh my gosh, what the fuck did you do?"

• Otis had killed you, think you were some "trespassing hippie" as he plainly put it.

• But you weren't. You were hers. You had came to the Firefly house to see your girlfriend, to meet her family. You weren't prepared to get a bullet in the forehead, that's for sure.

• Your corpse laid in the dirt, warming under the sun in the Texas heat.

• "You asshole! You fucking asshole!" Baby punched and slapped Otis, yelling and screaming until Rufus had to step in, pulling his sister away from their brother, despite him deserving every bit of it.

• "I didn't know! We don't let people here! Maybe mention your dating someone and this won't keep happening," Otis said, remember the other ex Baby lovers who had a similar fate.

• Baby spent the next few weeks crying, leaning on RJ's shoulder and talking about you in lengthy detail. He helped her bury you, creating a nice spot for your body right amongst the family cemetery.

• Otis gained several new scars as well because every time his sister laid eyes on him she threw something, whether it be glass cups or knives. Whatever she could get her hands on. Another normal day in the Firefly house.

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many drivers do not want to hear this but it is actually never reasonable to get mad at someone for driving the speed limit. laws dont decide what is moral or what is safe but nobody on the road will ever be Obligated to break the law for your convenience and being pissed off at someone for what you consider to be the unforgivable crime of Not Speeding is an insane stance to have regardless of pretty much any possible context

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Rewatched House of wax recently

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being the new, shy tech for the 141 introduced by laswell, and the boys are already trying to tease you. (18+)

you’re playing a game of truth or dare, taking shots and laughing and trying to relax even though the pub is so loud. it’s a saturday, there’s a footie game on, and you’re just trying to get to know them better.

well, johnny and gaz dare you to ask ghost out. the big brute that’s standing like an awkward statue ordering more drinks at the bar. and there you go, swaying on fawn legs, poking ghost gently in his meaty arm. the boys watch as ghost has to bend down to hear you over the noise, and you stand on your toes, putting your hands on his shoulder and murmuring in his ear.

you disappear with that big giant man’s arm around your waist, and when you come back to the table about twenty minutes later, you’re giggly and a little sweaty and stumbling just a little more. johnny leans over the table, confused.

“what happened? what did he say?”

“huh?” you raise a brow.

“what did he say? when ye asked him out?”

“oh…” you go warm all over, pressing the backs of your hands to your cheeks. “is that…is that what you meant? i couldn’t hear you!”

“what?”

the booth rattles when ghost sits his weight down right beside you, big fingers wrapping around the nape of your neck and curling you up so he can press his forehead to yours. the eye contact is intense, and you break out into another fit of giggles as you stare right back at him.

big, scary bear. adorable giant.

you turn back to johnny, shrugging your shoulders.

“i thought…i thought you said to ask him to eat me out.”

oops.

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"They passed in autumn"

Autumn is not just an ending — it’s the quiet dawn of another cycle. Should be a piece for Augustarion Week 4: Astarion + Tav but I'm late

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pov: you fell out of a nautiloid

inspired by that one house md promo image

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Writers block is kicking my ass right now but alas, I continue to write

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