#little red riding hood adjacent

[jerseyartblog]

Folktale Week - Day 01: LOST

Shaking off the art-making cobwebs by dipping my toes into the Folktale Week prompts! ;) I am not promising I'll finish this week's worth of prompts but it felt good to just do something Different from usual, haha

[reddogcollar]

life Is a divine comedy. what a nightmare

[littleeyesofpallas]

QUEEN'S BLADE GRIMOIRE[クイーンズブレイド グリムワール]

[sminny-wew]

Some OC art before I buckle down on classwork!! I love love LOVE drawing Lowell and Rouge so much I'm gonna explode

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Honestly the old fairy tales make a lot more sense if you assume that the Big Bad Wolf is a vampire. Or, more likely, some vampire adjacent supernatural beast.

The most obvious clue? He can't enter a dwelling without being invited in.

In the three stories in which the Big Bad Wolf appears— Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs and The Goat and the Seven Kids— the BBW explicitly has to ask before entering the home.

In TTLP, he asks directly and is denied, at which point, despite clearly having the ability to force down a door, he's instead reduced to destroying the whole house by 'blowing it down' (suggesting some ability to control the weather?). When it comes to the third little pig's house, even though the door is probably made of wood (a material that we know the wolf can destroy, because it's what the last little pig's house was made of) he's completely stymied the moment the pug says "no, I will not let you in!"

(He does, in fairness, manage to get in via the chimney. But this arguably does not count as crossing the threshold.)

In LRH and TGSK, meanwhile, he disguises himself. When entering Grandma's cottage, he mimics Little Red's voice so that Grandma will invite him in. (Remember that Grandma is generally portrayed as bedridden. She's not goinh to be able to get up and let him in— the door is unlocked.) In TGSK, meanwhile, the whole story is about the wolf's attempts to disguise himself as the mother goat, using flour to mask his dark fur and sugar to sweeten his rough voice.

Which brings me to my next point.

The wolf can clearly shape-shift, but only into certain forms.

The wolf is perfectly able to take up a conversation with a young girl walking alone through the woods, without arousing her suspicion. Later, he's able to perfectly disguise himself as an elderly woman just by dressing himself up in Grandma's clothes.

This makes a lot more sense if he was in human form during these parts of the story. It also explains the gradual progression of Little Red's realisation that all is not what it seems. "What big eyes you have Grandma." "What big ears you have Grandma." As opposed to the more expected: "HOLY FUCK GRANDMA YOU'RE LITERALLY JUST A WOLF IN A NIGHT CAP!!!"

The wolf is clearly changing back in this scene, and Little Red's comments are her trying to process what she is seeing.

I'd also like to point out that wolves aren't known for their climbing ability, especially up sheer surfaces, and the BBW is usually portrayed as being significantly larger than the Pigs, implying that their home probably wasn't built with somebody of his size in mind.

That being said, how in the hell did the wolf not only climb onto the roof of the Pigs' house (without being noticed!) but also manage to fit down their chimney? It seems highly unlikely that he could have managed either feat, but for some other creature— such as, to use a completely random example, a bat— it would be child's play.

As for why I say that he can only change into specific forms— the wolf clearly cannot shapeshift himself into a goat. Can't be done. Despite being able to perfectly disguise himself as an elderly human woman (who his victim knew very well and must have seen many times!) when it comes to disguising himself as a mother goat, suddenly he has to resort to makeup and techniques to change his voice.

Third piece of evidence: the wolf can only be killed in one very specific way.

Now, that specific admittedly isn't a stake through the heart or exposure to direct sunlight, which is why I'm saying it's unlikely that the BBW is a true vampire in the modern sense.

No, the method of killing the BBW, as discovered by the woodcutter, is the same one that you would use to dispatch a zombie: you have to destroy or sever the head.

LRH is the only story where the wolf, consistently across all versions, dies. In TLP he is full submerged in boiling water and still manages to run away.

In TGSK, the mother goat slits his belly open and fills it with large rocks. After being sewn up again, the wolf not only survives this process, but the only negative symptom we are told he experiences is… dehydration. Cutting him open and essentially disembowelling him wasn't a way to kill him, it was just a way for the mother goat to retrieve her children and drive the wolf to the well, where the heavy rocks in his stomach cause him to fall in and sink to the bottom.

And iirc it's not even confirmed whether this kills him, or just traps him in the well. The only confirmed way to kill the wolf is to sever the head.

But that last story also brings me to my final point: The wolf does not consume his victims in a normal way.

No, he doesn't drink their blood. The other reason why I wouldn't call him a true vampire. But nor does he really eat them.

In two stories, LRH and TGSK, the wolf manages to gobble up his prey before they can escape. In both cases they are later retrieved— in one case from the wolf's corpse and in the other from his living body— alive, well and unharmed.

The wolf, despite what big teeth he has, does not tear his victims to shreds or even chew them. The interior of the wolf is suggested to be probably larger than the wolf himself (the wolf is capable of wearing Grandma's clothes, even though his belly is apparently big enough to contain both Grandma and Little Red), and does not seem to have any stomach acid or anything else to aid digestion.

Illustrations do not usually portray Little Red and Grandma as covered in viscera.

It's not actually clear why the wolf is so desperate to find prey, given that he can't digest it. Possibly he absorbs energy from his still living victims once they are imprisoned within him, or possibly he just derives pleasure from the misery of their families. Either way, he's certainly not consuming them the way a normal wolf would.

Not sure exactly where I was going with this, except that I now absolutely want to see more of the Big Bad Wolf as a serious horror villain.

[whumpsday]

3 whumpy anime to check out this spring!

Go Go Loser Ranger is a heroes vs. villains anime where the villains are the good guys and the heroes are downright evil. Having wiped out all the powerful monsters more than a decade ago, the heroes keep the weakest monsters captive, to parade around and torment on a weekly basis while the public believes otherwise. Because they're immortal when hit with most weapons, they'll always reform to be hurt over and over again, despite feeling all the pain.

Footsoldier D is one of those weak monsters, an immortal shapeshifter made of dust, called a "duster". After escaping the heroes' arena, he forms a plan to kill the heroes and steal the few weapons they have that can permanently kill dusters, freeing the rest of his kind. Given that he has the constitution of a porcelain doll, he can't use strength to fight: he has to rely on wits, stealth, shapeshifting (despite knowing very little about humans or the outside world), and a shaky alliance with a double-agent ranger who seems to be taking advantage of him for her own gain.

Whump tags: villain whumpee, hero whumper, immortal whumpee

Watch it on Hulu, Disney+, or any unofficial anime site.

And if you don't have time to check out a whole anime, the Go Go Loser Ranger opening theme video is also really good, with fantastic visuals symbolizing D's struggles!

An Archdemon's Dilemma is a romantic comedy stuffed to the brim with popular whump tropes. Zagan is a demonic sorcerer who attends an auction for the possessions of another recently-killed sorcerer, when he sees that one of those "possessions" is an elf slave, Nephelia. Having had a destitute, harsh past himself, he feels a rush of sympathy and buys her way out, vowing to ensure her safety. However, Nephelia is terrified, believing she's about to be used as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual. And unfortunately for both of them, Zagan is a socially awkward loser who sucks at communicating.

It's surreal seeing something that looks like it could be a caretaker-new-master whump fic as an actual, fully-realized anime. It definitely doesn't take itself too seriously despite the premise, leaning heavily on the "comedy" part of romantic comedy, and is mostly just a silly time with lots of whump-adjacent stuff thrown in. Fanfic-y to the point of "there's only one bed" being an actual line.

Whump tags: fantasy slavery (very pet-whump-esque in its tropes), caretaker new master

Watch it on Crunchyroll or any unofficial anime site.

The Grimm Variations is an anthology of horror retellings of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales. With each episode being written and directed by different people, it varies wildly in quality, with episodes ranging from laughably bad to incredibly good, but I'm here to talk about episode 2: Little Red Riding Hood.

The Little Red Riding Hood takes place in a dystopian future where the upper and middle class use virtual reality technology to augment their reality. One man, Grey, is tired of this and craves the real: specifically, the feeling of real blood spraying him as he murders countless women, his wealth and connections protecting him from consequences. But when this serial killer makes the mistake of targeting a woman called Scarlet, he finds himself on the other side of the knife. This episode is a complete and utter gorefest with multiple onscreen torture scenes.

This isn't even my favorite episode of the series, it's like my 3rd favorite. But episode 2 is the one with the gruesome torture scene, so it's the one that goes in this post.

Little Red Riding Hood whump tags: whumper-turned-whumpee, torture, gore

Little Red Riding Hood warnings: sexual assault, eye gore, fingernail gore, violence against women, major character death

Watch it on Netflix or any unofficial anime site. Orrrr if you just wanna watch the big torture scene without any of the context, it's on Youtube.

that's all I have for now :)

(P.S: Dungeon Meshi, while not really whumpy as a whole, is also currently airing and very very good and I might write whump fanfic for it at some point in the near future. Netflix or any unofficial anime site.)

[girlboybug]

tear you apart

"i want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as i whisper in your ear, i wanna fucking tear you apart."

didn't anyone warn you about the man who lives in the cabin in the woods?

what's playing 🎧: tear you apart by she wants revenge

pairing : joel x reader

word count : 4k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, dubcon, unsafe/unprotected piv, size kink, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy, slight bondage with ropes, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, cumshots, virginity taking, unspecified age gap (but if you wanna know joel is 50, reader is 21) sir kink, impact play, lots of spanking, light face slapping nothing intense, choking

TRIGGER WARNINGS : dubcon, slight themes of being held hostage kinda, joel is so mean and scary frowny face, unsafe piv, threats of knife usage, overall stranger danger!!!

a/n heyyy party people i’m sorry i’ve been so dead, work has been taking a lot of my time lately :( i miss u all dearly :( pls accept this as a little halloween treat from me to you <3🎃 comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments!!!

you really should have known better. no one in their right mind would be in the predicament you’re currently in. feebly following behind a burly man, allowing him to lure you into following him deeper into the maze of a forest, all with the promises of shelter and a working phone. 

you hug yourself to soothe the nerves ricocheting like bullets all throughout your body, and he turns his head, glancing down at you from behind his broad shoulder to ensure you’re keeping up. you crane your neck upwards to offer a shy smile. you tell yourself that you were able to see the corner of his lips perk, just a little. 

he says nothing of grandeur when he pushes open the front door of his cabin nestled between a thick brush of trees and bushes, sitting adjacent to an inky black lake illuminated by the full moon. 

he walks in first, looking at you expectantly to close and lock the door behind you, to which you obey immediately. 

the decor is very…texan, a moose head watches your every movement from above his mantle as your heeled feet carry you to his worn in recliner, sitting down in it when he motions for you to. 

he sits down in front of you, his ankle resting on his knee, big hands dwarfing the arm rests, his eyes taking their time to really drink you in. “what were you doin’ out in the woods so late anyhow?” he asks you, the cadence in his voice sounding like a continuous grunt with a twinge of a southern accent. 

ahh, hence the texan decor…

“um,” your voice cracks, and your cheeks get hot with embarrassment. “w-was at a um halloween party but i wasn’t enjoying myself, so i left…stupidly, on my own. and i got lost.” you chuckle nervously, hoping he joins you to ease the tension but he doesn’t. he just continues to stare. 

“some wolf try an’ getcha?” he jokes dryly without the lightheartedness, and your chest tightens at his words. “wh-what?” 

he nods at your costume, eyes lingering on your ruffled skirt a little extra longer before he looks back up at you. you look down, hands shyly smoothing out your red riding hood dress, sighing out of relief to yourself. “oh!” you exhale quietly, shaking your head. “i guess you could say that,” you respond a little quieter, thinking back to a drunken owen trying to get back at abby by attempting to kiss you in front of her. 

“hmm,” a low throatily hum leaves past joel’s shut lips and you tighten your legs with angst. “s-so um can i uhh…use your phone?” you ask, hyper aware of the reason why you’re even in his house to begin with. joel nods, pointing into his kitchen. “s’by the fridge on your left.” 

his eyes follow your ass, barely concealed by the puffy ruffles of your dress, and you feel hot under his stare, wobbly legs trying to move fast towards the phone. when you pick up the landline, you’re greeted with silence instead of a dial tone. your heart sinks impossibly deeper and you turn to look at the man, swallowing hard. 

you turn back to the phone, trying to dial your mom’s number, praying somehow it connects you to her, not caring if you’re met with yelling, as long as you hear her voice, relief will rinse through your body. 

but it doesn’t. and fear takes over instead. “u-um…sir?” you call out, and he turns towards you. “what?” he asks gruffly and you switch your weight back and forth anxiously on either one of your feet. “y-your um…your phone doesn’t seem to be working?” you ask more than you tell and he just turns back around. 

“yeah. does that sometimes,” he disregards your worries and you grow increasingly regretful of letting him convince you he was your best bet at going home. a shaky breath leaves your lips as you clutch the phone tightly. “do you know how to fix it?” you try once more and he answers you without a glance. “nope.” 

you feel like breaking down and crying, gripping the phone before reluctantly putting it back. you inch your way back to the front door, avoiding eye contact. “i’ll just um…i’ll just try and see if i can get service back outside and call an uber or something. thanks for your help,” you hurriedly speak as politely as possible, unlocking his door and opening it. 

you gasp louder than you would have expected, your shoulders jolting upwards with fear when a large hand slams the door shut above you. “that ain’t a good idea.” he mutters, voice falling over the crown of your head and you shut your eyes fearfully. “wh-why not?” you all but whisper, your heart hammering against your ribcage when you hear the locks turn back once more. 

“girl like you shouldn’t be alone out there in the woods. safer in here.” he tells you rather than offering as a suggestion, a sense of finality in his voice. your hand desperately clings to the doorknob before you release yet another opportunity of safety it feels like. 

“what should i do then?” you question stupidly, as if the grown man before you really has your best interest in mind. “you can stay here. it’ll be easier for me to guide you outta these woods come mornin’.” he answers, the last utterances of his sentence ending in a tired sigh. 

you inhale deeply and attempt to exhale the fear buzzing around in your chest. “i really wouldn’t want to impose—“ 

“sit down.” he orders and you jolt at his voice, apprehensively obeying once more. 

he stalks your every step that leads you back into his living room, head inching along in unison with each movement of yours. he wordlessly stands up, eyes peering a cold downcast upon you, his heavy boots making their way towards you like the beginning to a ceremony. 

your chest rises and falls rapidly, feeling like a trapped animal below him. “you usually follow men you’ve never met before into their houses?” he questions you, a low gruff interrogation that escapes into the thick air from the cusp of his breath. 

you shake your head and he purses his lips, raising a brow. “no?” he asks again, mocking you. “no.” you whisper back shakily. 

he doesn’t respond, he leisurely pushes the red hood of yours off of your head and away from your face, allowing him a clearer view of your fear stricken gaze. 

he chuckles quietly, enjoying this game he’s playing with you. he bends down, leaning in close. his scruffy beard tickles your cheek, his strong hooked nose brushing against your ear. “you smell real nice,” he mutters into your hood. 

you close your eyes, trembling at his proximity, ignoring the fluttery feeling bubbling in your lower tummy, attempting to snuff out it’s flame. you refuse to acknowledge how a sick part of you feels a rush of adrenaline from how close this man is to you. 

he stands up straight again, this time a bulge stirring in his tightened levi���s visible before you. he stares at you gawking at it, a sense of pride inflating him. he eyes you for a few more seconds before impatience kicks in and he’s bent down, lifting you up in his arms and picking you up and out of the recliner. you yelp and flail in his hold but he’s got you pinned in his arms, you’re not going anywhere. 

he carries you into his bedroom, kicking the door open and pushing it back shut with the back of his boot. 

he drops you onto his bed and watches you hungrily, watching as you scramble on his bed like a little rabbit he’s just caught. 

you’re sitting at the edge of his bed, legs splayed straight, trying to cover yourself the best you can. he walks towards you, gripping your thighs and spreading them wide open forcibly, lowering himself down to his knees. you pant under your breath, a heavy sigh leaving past your lips when he ducks his head down lower to underneath his bed, and away from between your thighs. 

he returns to look at you with rope in his hands, and your heart falls deeper into your body than you thought possible. 

“wrists.” you hand them to him, too scared to see what would happen if you refused. he ties a knot around your wrists, letting your paired hands drop into your lap. “f’you really wanna get out of ‘em use your teeth to tug on this little loose end.” he follows his instructions by stepping aside to reveal the exit of his bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. “you’re free to try an’ test your luck out there, or in here.” he looks down at you, biceps bulged from crossing over his chest, head tilting to the side, trying to read your facial expressions and figure out what option you’ll choose.

you stare at your confinements then flicker your gaze to the door and back at joel. you can’t seem to find something in you that will allow you to leave, despite common sense warning you, nothing feels as tempting as wondering what he’ll do to you.

something like a smirk takes over joel’s face when he realizes you aren’t going anywhere, and a wetness pools in your floral printed panties at the sight. “knew you weren’t goin’ anywhere,” he snickers with a sense of pride, moving closer to you now. he grabs your confined wrists and puts them above your head as he pushes you back into his mattress. he breathes in your scent, sighing to himself when the aroma of your fear mixed with your sweet perfume fills his nose. 

“gonna fuckin’ ruin you…gonna ruin this,” he mutters, cupping your cunt. you gasp and squirm in his grip, whimpering from his touch and from bud words. he slaps your pussy and you whine, trying to shut your thighs. “don’t you fuckin’ move. lemme play with what i caught here,” he grunts, lifting up your little white gingham printed skirt, exhaling when he sees the wet splotch at the front of your panties. 

he looks up at you from under his lashes, a smug expression wordlessly teasing you. 

your cheeks get warm and you opt for staring at the ceiling instead. 

“fuckin pussy achin for a cock huh?” he chuckles, vulgarity in his nature and you whine, not used to feeling so on display and viewed so objectifyingly. and more importantly, not used to liking it. 

he travels back up to take his time ripping open the flimsy corset top of your dress, groaning to himself when he exposes your cute breasts, nipples hardened and ready for his hungry mouth. 

he can’t help himself when he lowers his tongue over them, your little sounds only encouraging him. he bites down on your nipples, and you cry out, unintentionally arching your back into his mouth. he just laughs around your flesh, groping and squeezing you like he owns you. 

and he’d argue that he just about does. 

“haven’t had a cute little thing to play with in awhile, gonna have some real fun with you, girl.” he says from the base of his throat, his lips brushing against your neck. you can’t stay still, all the attention and groping is so unfamiliar, and you’re too riled up to contain yourself, the throb in your clit begs for attention, and all you can do is press your thighs tightly together and try to gain any kind if relief from the seam in your panties. 

he notices and scoffs. “keep your legs open, or i’ll tie ‘em to my bedpost.” he growls in your ear, and your clit pulses at the threat, taking a second to consider the consequences, before ultimately following his instructions. 

he wolf whistles at your pretty cunt concealed behind your panties, hooking his thumbs under them and dragging them down your perfect thighs until they hang from your calves. his cock fucking throbs when he sees your pussy glisten from the pane of moonlight that creeps in from his window. 

he slaps your pussy again, loving how puffy your lips are. your shoulders cave in from the sudden impact, whimpering at his harshness. “got yourself a perfect cunt don’tcha?” he exhales, mostly talking to himself, his palm coming down over his crotch to relieve some of the pressure building. 

“you ever been fucked?” he asks, patting your cheek. you blink a few times, wondering if you should be honest with him. you shake your head an ashamed ‘no’ and he grins for the first time tonight. “well ain’t that a treat for me. gonna break you in nice and good,” he shrugs off his flannel, hurriedly unzipping his levi’s. he fishes himself out from his boxers and your jaw goes slack, chest tightening again. 

his cock is huge, it’s fat and looks threatening. it’s almost a weapon and could probably be classified as one because shit, the stretch is going to hurt. 

he jerks himself off, bringing his tip to your clit. you gasp, your hips circling his cock. “i-i don’t know if that’ll f-fit,” you stammer nervously and he shushes you. “gonna make it fit and you’re gonna take it for me. think of it as a thank you, from you to me for lettin’ you come into my house,” he chides, laughing with a sense of entitlement, feeling as though your body is something he’s owed. your chest heaves with nerves and anticipation as you prepare to pay your debt.

he huffs lowly, bringing two fingers to your dripping sex, his cock twitching when he collects your wetness on the pads of his digits. “dunno why you’re so worried, it’ll go right in, pussy’s basically cryin’ for it,” he grunts, curling a middle finger into your little hole. you gasp, head falling back into his sheets, nails scratching at the rope that holds your wrists together. 

he pumps his wrist in and out, his free hand jerking himself off while he fucks you with his finger. “niiice an’ tight, gonna squeeze my cock jus’ how i like it,” he rubs against a sensitive spot within your cunt, throwing you a bone when his thumb swirls around your aching clit. 

you moan, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing at the sensation. the bass in your tummy grows into a finely tuned crescendo throughout your limbs and as soon as it builds, it falters once he removes his touch. you whimper disappointedly, but he’s fast to shut your complaints up when he begins to split you in half with his cock, a loud whine replacing any of your needy grumbling. 

you cry out, knees trying to push at his hips but he grips them, forcing them open. “you’re gonna take it f’me little girl,” he growls, working the thick girth of his cock into you. you’re freely crying now, the overwhelming feeling of being so full is something foreign to you, and you’re not sure you can take it, but joel has decided you can and you will. 

he grips your face, squeezing your cheeks into your lips pucker, turning you until your cheek meets his mattress and he’s pushing you into it, inching his hips backward only to go in even deeper than when he started. 

“ooh-hoh-oh, fuck baby,” he groans, fucking into your cunt with no hesitation, your little hole barely able to accommodate him. “tha’s right,” he pants, swallowing hard when he makes you look at him again, your breasts bouncing from each hard thrust he sends you. “takin’ my cock like you’re made for it,” 

you whimper, taking his comment as praise and squeezing him, your poor neglected clit throbbing when he grunts above you. “can feel you in my stomach,” you whine and he laughs, pressing a hand right over the bulge that he creates. “good luck findin’ another man who can do that to ya baby,” he snickers, giving a patronizing kiss to your cheek. 

he grips the fabric of your skirt, using it as leverage to keep you close as he pounds into you, impaling you over and over on his cock, fucking the shape of it deep into you. 

you jerk upwards from each and every pivot he sends you and he’s hypnotized by the way your tits bounce from his movements. he smacks them and grips them tight, pinching your pebbled nipples, loving how you yelp from the slight pain. 

“sir please, t-touch me,” you moan pleadingly and he can’t believe his ears, his cock twitches inside you at your begging and he obliges you, bringing two fingers to your little clit and rubbing hard to match the tempo of his thrusts. 

“got you hooked on my cock, maybe next time you’ll get ‘lost’ again and come lookin for me huh?” he breathes out in your ear, and you nod dumbly, your pussy drooling all over his dick, sucking him in deep. 

his hand finds your throat and pins you down firmly, allowing you little access to air, but the lack of the supply is numbingly good, addictive. your eyes roll back, mouth parting with a soft string of moans. 

he brings his hips down into yours without fail, fucking you with an insatiable stamina, groaning and grunting at how you take his cock, his hand tightening around your throat when you clench around him, growling at the feeling of your soaked pussy all around him. 

“haven’t fucked a virgin in lord knows how long, forgot how goddamn good it feels,” he groans, his hand releasing your throat to toy with the glimmering cross necklace that lays between your breasts. he chuckles when he lets the silver cross fall back onto your chest. “cute.” he teases when he picks up a leg of yours and throws it over his shoulder, shuddering when he slides in even deeper. 

you sob loudly, wailing out his name and babblings of sir please oh god sir please please, at the deep intrusion. “go on ahead and cry all you want little red, no one can hear you out here,” he mocks, rubbing your clit to watch you cry harder. 

he pulls out and flips you on your tummy with haste, way too eager to be back inside of you. he readjusts you until you’re now at the foot of his bed, hips perfectly propped up on his bed frame, allowing him an easier access into your little cunt. 

he spreads open your ass, pushing his cock back into you, his thumb ghosting over your other little hole, enjoying the way you squirm around, wriggling your hips nervously at his prodding. you turn around to look at him from behind your shoulder, looking up at him with a startled stare. 

he laughs, spitting on it and shaking his head when he slaps your ass, hard. “don’t worry, i’m content with your pussy baby,” he says, sending an especially hard thrust as if you needed proof. 

you collapse in his bed, using the hard smooth wood of his bed frame as friction for your clit. 

his hands come down and grip your ass, spanking the full flesh mercilessly, loving your howls of pain from each smack. he’s only satisfied when he sees his handprints begin to form in your abused flesh. and even so, he continues to pair his harsh thrusts with unforgiving smacks that cause your flesh to burn. 

he grabs your throat once more, forcing you closer to his mouth when he whispers in your ear. “whaddya think little red? should i use this,” he pulls out the dagger that was previously hidden within his pocket, the coldness from the blade contrasts against the warm skin of your neck. “to write my name in you? let everyone know who fucking owns you.” he presses the blade enough to make you squirm, but not quite enough to draw blood. 

“n-no sir please don’t,” you pathetically shake your head and he mockingly coos at you. “why shouldn’t i?” he adds and you whine when he shoves his cock in you, hitting that achy spot deep in your cunt. “please don’t,” you moan, your words contradicting your voice, but fear still courses through you at the possibility of joel actually doing it. 

he doesn’t reply, the only thing that responds to you is the sound of his hips slapping against the thick flesh of your ass, his cock pumping in and out of you relentlessly. he drops the knife on the bed in front of you, silently notifying you he won’t mark you with his blade. you expel a small breath of relief when you see it discarded. 

your eyes flutter shut when he pushes you back down into his sheets, hand firmly keeping you in place by the back of your neck. his available hand unties the knot that bound your wrists together, now bending your left arm behind your lower back as he pounds into you. 

a dull ache from the stretch of his cock begins to spread in your cunt but as much as it hurts, it feels just as good. “you better not waste a single drop,” he grunts in your ear, starting to move sporadically behind you, and you can’t even ask what he means, too fucked out and drooling on his bed to truly care. 

it’s when he sends a harsh thrust into you, stilling inside you with a low groan. a warm sensation fills you and your clit tingles at the feeling. “how d’ya think people’ll react if they find out little red let some old man spill his cum in’ta her and got her pregnant?” he whispers in your ear and your eyes widen, shivering when he pulls out and immediately shoves his cum right back into your leaking hole. 

you crane your neck to watch it trickle down your thighs and you whimper, swishing your legs around and feeling it stick together. “there’s so much…” you scoop some of it with your fingers, and his cock doesn’t soften, it flexes upward at the way you look at his cum with watery eyes, long eyelashes slick from crying over his cock. 

“an’ you’re gonna get more, i ain’t finished with you yet,” his voice baritone and borderline hoarse. you look up at him, feeling weak and unsure. “more?” you whisper and he nods, a sick little smile on his lips. “you can take it,” he mutters, kicking off his boots prior to climbing into his bed. he makes himself comfortable, hands behind his head when he motions for you to crawl over to him from the foot of his bed. 

you comply, something about him has installed an inability to not only obey him, but a desire to.

he settles you on his lap, scooting you backward to circle his fat reddened tip over your swollen clit. “bet you wanna cum real bad?” he murmurs, it almost feels patronizing and yet, you eat it up, nodding desperately. “mhm,” you breathily reply, your orgasm that’s been pushed off far too many times building itself up all over again from the way he rubs his tip against your clit. 

“we’ll see if you get to this time,” and with the lack of a promise, he pushes into you once more, feeling prideful when his own cum gushes from your hole, squeezing his cock in a way he could grow addicted to. 

“bounce on it for me.” he instructs, hands tight on your hips. his orders catch you off guard and you sit still, somehow still bashful while speared on his cock. “i-i’ve never…but i don’t know-“ 

“you don’t know how to bounce up and down?” he asks dryly, an eyebrow raised. “i just…” 

“you just, nothin’ i suggest you start movin’ for me now. lemme see those fuckin’ tits of your bounce.” he’s serious, and you’re embarrassed at how the way he speaks to you makes you grip onto his cock harder. he notices it, leaning further into bed and straightening out his hips, intentionally pushing deeper into you, liking the way you shiver and moan at the intrusion. 

you place your hands on his chest, apprehensively moving your hips up and down. the pace is far too slow for joel’s liking, but he enjoys watching you use his cock the way you seem to like it, dragging your tight little cunt all along the long expanse of his dick, no matter how far up or down you move you can’t escape the feeling of being full. 

but joel only has so much patience before it runs out. a hard calloused hand slaps the curve of your ass, whistling for you to speed it up. “pick up the pace, now.” 

you struggle to obey this command, he’s so huge and you’re so sensitive you’re not sure if you can. you’re moving to the best of your abilities and honestly, your struggles are endearing to him. he takes pity on you, bear hugging your waist when he begins to jackhammer into you. 

you cry out, face falling and burying itself in the crook of his neck, letting him continue to use your poor little hole. 

“milk my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts into your chest, his mouth latching onto the flesh again. your clit makes contact with his coarse pubic hair and you’re flushed when you acknowledge how good it feels. 

“s-sir,” you moan in his ear, arms coming around to hang off of his broad shoulders. he kisses your throat, sucking a bruise into it. his hands migrate to your ass, gripping it and slapping it, hoping he leaves you incapable of sitting down correctly tomorrow morning. he wants you to only think of him whenever you try to sit tomorrow, a memory of him fully engraved into every inch of your body. 

his fingers find your clit and you hiccup sob from pleasure, starting to grind down and meet his rough thrusts. “thank you sir thank you thank you,” you chant, tightening your arms around him while you try fucking yourself on his cock. “you better cum right now,” he growls, pinching your clit before continuing his circular motions. your knees clench around his lap, your cunt squeezing his cock while you unravel in his arms. 

you’re panting, feeling like getting air into your lungs is an impossible feat as your orgasm rips through you, shattering through your ribcage, the sensation never fully ending due to joel fucking you through it. 

he continues moving you up and down his cock, playing with your little clit. you fall limp and powerless on his chest, whimpering and crying on top of him from the overwhelming stimulation. “n-no more please it’s too much, s-so much,” you sob and he slaps your ass right where he last hit, holding onto you tighter when you try and get away from the stinging pain. 

“you’re gonna give me one more,” he tells you, no sense of asking anywhere and you hide away in his chest, letting him continue using your gushing hole however he wishes. 

“i don’t think i can,” you slur, eyes starting to fall half shut, your clit burning with painful pleasure from his fingertips. “yes you fucking can,” he grits, rubbing harder and fucking you faster. 

“gonna make me cum again, and you’re going to, too,” he growls, fucking up into you with a force that makes you shake in his chest. 

he pulls out and rubs his tip against your clit, groaning while he forces his eyes to stay open so he can watch the way he paints your tummy and pussy white with his cum. you start taking in heavy breaths, tears welling up in your eyes when you feel your second orgasm ripple through you all over again, prickles of pain mixes with the pleasure that casts over you. 

“o-oh god, oh god,” you hiccup, tears streaming down your cheeks when you slump into him, feeling boneless and faint, twitching and jerking as the effects of your orgasm works it’s way through your body. 

joel guides you off of his lap and lays you beside him, watching you succumb to exhaustion from him using you like a toy, and he smirks to himself, eyeing the cum that decorates your lower stomach and trickles from your thighs. 

“i might just have to keep you for myself,” he whispers to your unconscious body, pulling your red hood back over your head.

[cuubism]

the better to see you with, my dear | spy hob/king dream au

canon-adjacent, spy!hob, post-character death, blood & violence, king & loyal knight dynamic, slow burn, developing relationship, loyalty devotion and sacrifice, power dynamics, hob gadling - royal spy of the dreaming

Hob escapes from Death and finds himself in the Dreaming. Instead of sending him back, the King of Dreams makes him an offer: will you be my spy?

[cover image from Arthur Rackham's illustration for Little Red Riding Hood]

--

The... person? creature? that dragged Hob from his hiding place in the forest had six arms, and three sets of eyes.

Though that seemed to be on the more normal end of things that went on around here, so Hob wasn’t too fazed.

It caught him by luck, followed him when Hob had made the—foolish in retrospect—decision to sneak into the nearby town to try to learn something about this strange realm he’d found himself in. Curiosity had done him in. His mum had always said it would, when he’d fallen in streams chasing minnows and gotten sick from eating berries picked in the woods. Touch with your eyes, Hob, not with your hands. Hob had never been very good at that.

Up ’til then, Hob had sequestered himself in the forest, keeping to himself and scavenging for plants to eat. He hadn’t seemed to need much food, didn’t get hungry often or lose weight when he didn’t eat, which he supposed made sense considering— well. Considering. But it kept him occupied. Kept him from thinking about it too much.

And he explored the fantastical forest. Its trees broader than he could wrap his arms around, reaching up into the sky higher than he could see. Its grassy dells, with wildflowers in detail and variety he’d never seen, its bird and insect life, its towering waterfalls and quiet brooks. Hob loved the forest. There was something truly ancient about it, something wilder than he could comprehend.

It was almost enough to distract him from why he was there.

But he got too curious. He wanted to know more, he wanted to understand the rest of this world, what realm he was in— so he’d gone searching for people.

And drawn something back with him.

Inevitable, really. Hob couldn’t hide in some place he didn’t belong forever.

The six-legged thing that had caught him was now dragging him across a wide, grassy field, traveling faster than Hob would have thought possible. Its claws dug into his arm, nearly drawing blood. Hob didn’t bother fighting back. He’d tried, once along the way, and gotten what felt like a sack of bricks to the face from the creature’s fist. No use trying to take it in a fight; better to keep his wits about him and look for a chance to escape. Nor did he bother asking it any questions. He’d tried that, too, and gotten only stony silence.

In any case, he was too preoccupied with taking in the scene around him.

Hob had been aware that this place, this… realm, he supposed, had a castle. He had seen the strange silhouette of it in the distance whenever he was at the forest’s edge, had heard occasional gossip by eavesdropping on actual denizens of the realm. But despite his curiosity, he’d steered far clear; the last thing he’d needed was to attract powerful attention.

Now, they were approaching said castle, and Hob let his curiosity run free, gaping up at the towering marble spires. The seemingly endless wings, the intricate carvings, hell, the elevated bridge that crossed the river to the front gates… he had never seen nor even heard of anything approaching its like back in his world. It was like something out of a children’s story, a fairy tale.

Was that where he was? The land of faerie? That couldn’t possibly be good.

Better than death, though, had to be. Hell, Hob would join ranks with the bloody fey if it kept him alive, what did he care where his loyalty lay? 

The palace gates creaked open at their approach, and the creature pulled Hob through into the chill, shadowed rooms within. They stepped into a hall so massive Hob couldn’t see the ceiling or the end of it, but he had barely a moment to take any of it in before his captor was flinging him down onto the marble floor. 

Hob just barely managed to catch himself on his bound hands. He panted, trying to catch his breath from the forced uphill march to get there, hair hanging in his eyes.

"There is no need for the dramatics," said a voice. A voice that seemed to come from the sky above and the shadows beneath his body and from within his own chest, resounding like the perpetual hum of the heavens turning. “Leave him to me.”

In his peripheral vision, the creature bowed jerkily and scurried off, leaving Hob alone with the owner of that voice.

He wrenched his tired head up. He was in an immense throne room, grander than anything he could have imagined, pillars reaching up to a ceiling that faded away into starlight, massive stained-glass windows that cast triangles of red light down on Hob’s face. How there could be sunlight and a night sky up above at once, Hob didn't know, but then, he still didn’t know what this place was. What kingdom he had found himself in. He had been too preoccupied with not getting caught to risk asking.

The owner of that voice was seated at the top of a long, winding staircase, the windows at his back, sprawled on one of the top steps rather than on the throne that was presumably there for that purpose. From a distance, Hob could only really make out the shape of him – the sweeping black lines of his cloak, the sharp angles of his limbs, his dark hair, his unnaturally bright eyes. 

He didn't look like a king as Hob was used to seeing them depicted, with all their gold and finery. But he felt like one, in the way Hob stood at the altar of a church and felt the presence of the Lord.

The King stood, a slow, fluid motion like the rising of the moon. He strode down the steps toward Hob, cloak dragging at his ankles.

Hob could have run for it. There was nobody else in the room, nobody holding him captive, no guards, no retinue. 

It was precisely because of that that he did not. No guards meant the King was absolutely confident in his ability to restrain Hob himself if need be, and more besides.

What the hell kind of kingdom was this?

“Robert Gadling.” The King stopped before Hob, close enough that Hob had to tilt his head up to look at him from where he was still kneeling on the floor. He had a beautiful face, a regal face, imperious tilt to it and all. Eyes like moonlight on winter’s first snowfall.

“Hob, if you please,” said Hob, because he had never known when to shut the fuck up. 

The King’s lips twitched, and Hob had no way of knowing but he would have sworn it was amusement. “Hob, then.” Despite the stone walls, the empty space, his voice did not echo. It was simply there. Hob felt it inside his head, inside his heart. “Would you care to explain to me what you are doing in the Dreaming?”

“The Dreaming?” Hob asked.

The King raised an eyebrow. “You stand in the Kingdom of Dreams, my kingdom. You do not know this?”

“Uh.” Hob ducked his head, abashed. “No? I kind of just... found myself here,” he hedged.

Then there was a hand in his hair, tugging his head back. His grip was strong, and Hob winced. He met the King of Dreams’s eyes again and found the impression of very sharp teeth deep within them. The moment Hob presented as even somewhat of a real threat, he would find those teeth in his throat, he was sure.

He supposed he’d have to try not to be a real threat.

“Only living souls find themselves in the Dreaming,” said the King of Dreams, voice the rumbling growl of shifting ice. “Perhaps you would like to try for a different answer.”

“Alright, alright!” Hob relented, and the King's grip on his hair eased, just a smidge. “Alright. I escaped from Death.”

“Escaped,” repeated the King of Dreams. “From Death.”

“I swear,” said Hob. He would have raised his arms in surrender if they weren’t bound. “That’s the truth.”

“One cannot escape from Death’s grasp.”

"Guess I’m just really determined?”

The King's jaw clenched. “Very well. I will call her, then, and we shall see.”

Dread pitted Hob's stomach, but then the King of Dreams paused in thought, head tilting. He looked Hob up and down, calculating, cleverness spinning in those eyes.

“It takes quite a bit of skill to hide from me in my own realm,” he observed. 

Hob didn't know what answer to this would prevent him getting chucked into the void, and for once in his life, wisely remained silent. 

The King released him, and Hob swayed forward in the wake of his grip, nearly falling. “Walk with me,” he said, and turned and strode away across the throne room, leaving Hob scrambling to catch up. 

He followed at the King’s side, just a step behind, as they turned into a side hall that seemed to unfold from nowhere as they walked. Hob looked at the man—being?—beside him. He was smaller than he seemed, slighter than Hob and almost delicate, but still Hob didn't fancy his chances in a fight. Not here, at the seat of his power. He'd be better off trying to wrestle the sun.

He just kept following.

“I have read the book of your life, Hob Gadling,” said the King of Dreams. It was said casually, like this was a usual occurrence, but a shiver ran up Hob’s spine nonetheless. Unnerving, to think his story was just accessible like that, and so easily summarized. “I did so as soon as my subject caught you to bring you before me. Your life was cut short by violence, but before that, it involved a rather interesting occupation.”

“I… suppose you could say so, my lord,” Hob agreed. The hall they strode down was infinitely long, lined by columns that let in streams of moonlight. Again, with the time of day shifting from room to room. Maybe this really was the land of dreams.

The King hummed. “Relations between the Dreaming and several other realms have been tense, of late,” he told Hob. “I would prefer to avoid war, but to do so requires inside knowledge that I am currently lacking.” He looked at Hob out of the corner of his eye. “For any man who could get me that information, perhaps making use of certain hidden talents—I could be persuaded to make an exception to my usual rule of sending stowaway souls back where they belong.”

Wait.

So Hob wasn’t going to be killed?

“You don’t—” his head was reeling— “you don’t already... have spies?”

The King sighed. “Dreams cannot leave the Dreaming. My ravens can, but they are known across the realms as my messengers, and I would not put them at such risk, besides.”

He did not have to say, I would easily put you at such risk, for it to be heard.

“I did, you know…” Hob said, though he wasn’t sure why he was arguing with salvation, “die in my role, you’re aware. I’m not sure you want a failed spy working for you.”

The King made a dismissive noise. “Your skills were solid. Your commanders were reckless and wasteful. Sending you scurrying back and forth like a courier and wasting your better expertise. The Kingdom of Dreams is not like the kingdoms of men. I do not wage war on petty whims, and I do not waste my resources.”

Something in Hob coiled tight at the thought of being a resource, a tool of this man. Or entity. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, or anticipation. 

“Before you answer,” continued the King, “it is only fair that you know the risks. The realms that span this universe are myriad, with a variety of dangers. While you would not die, you could be hurt, captured, tortured, imprisoned. Especially if your purpose were to be found out.

“Should you be caught—” the King studied Hob’s face, “you would be utterly disavowed. You are not one of my creations, and I would risk nothing for you, nor claim you; I would deny any association between you and the Dreaming. You may find yourself trapped eternally in Hell. Or somewhere worse.” 

There was somewhere worse? Hob thought.

Still, perhaps it was the reckless brigand in him, but he hadn’t yet heard anything that made him want to pick death instead. If anything, it was all sounding like a rather grand adventure.

“What say you, Hob Gadling?” asked the King of Dreams, with a tiny smirk. He clearly didn’t think Hob was going to say yes. “How far will you go to avoid death? Would you be my spy? My agent in the dark?”

Hob thought it might be worth being trapped eternally in Hell just to see the surprise on the King’s face when he said, “Oh, hell yes.”

[bracketsoffear]

Ylfa Snorgelsson/Red Riding Hood (Dimension 20) "Forced to eat Death/the Big Bad Wolf to survive and absorbed his power (lycanthropy). She dies and is resurrected even more wolf-like, gets mentored by Death, and saves him from being destroyed. She sacrifices the memory of her grandmother—her last tether to humanity—to take up the mantle of the Big Bad Wolf (literally—she’s wearing his skin as a cloak now) and become Death. In doing so, she has a vision of killing her grandmother’s grandmother just as the Big Bad Wolf killed her--but not her, because it wasn’t her time. At the end of the campaign, she divides her human self from her wolf self—the little girl stays behind to have a mortal life, while the other half of Ylfa truly and finally embraces Death. Her story is about her grappling with the horror and grief of loss and death, culminating in her metaphorical death to become “the end of all stories”. Her grandmother was eaten, but “I met Death and Death wants me to live.”"

The Amazing Karnak (Ride the Cyclone) "Karnak is a novelty machine, clearly with sentience, that can predict the exact time and place of somebody's death. He himself was shut down, but successfully predicted the deaths of the St. Cassian Chamber Choir before they died in a rollercoaster accident. Karnak seems to have a limited sort of control over human mortality, as he has the ability to bring people back from the dead, but he himself seems to be trapped in an eternal purgatory, not quite active, not quite defunct. He knows of his own death, of his own mortality, and it doesn't bother him. Despite not being human, he represents human mortality in a strange, awfully comedic way."

Grimora (Inscryption) "Her whole gimmick is inscrybing the dead: skeletons, zombies, ghosts, and souls all have a place in her deck. Her cards are played with the cost of bone tokens (gained from the death of one of the player’s cards), and, in her boss fight, her cards don’t tend to stay dead for long (nor do the player’s, as she takes to killing every card the challenger has in play and returning only their corpses). However, what makes her end-adjacent rather than a defier of the end is her commitment to the cycle of death and what it brings—so much so that she’s willing, immortal as she is, to succumb to her own realm and drag the others along with her. She disguises it as a means to end the Scrybes’ ceaseless quarrel and to kill what lies on the disk, but ultimately she, too, fears death, but knows that everything must one day die all the same (so what if she has to exacerbate the process—she has been very patient for the rest of the game, and the Scrybes have long, LONG outlived the lives of anyone real who would care to remember them)."

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

24 in 2024

i haven't seen any of these floating around yet, so i thought i'd get one started! here are 24 books i want to read in 2024 (and a bonus readerly goal):

Welcome to Your World: How the Built Environment Shapes Our Lives by Sarah Williams Goldhagen

Obsolescence: An Architectural History by Daniel M. Abramson

Offended Sensibilities by Alisa Ganieva

The Night, The Night by Rodrigo Blanco Calderón

Dayswork by Chris Bachelder and Jennifer Habel

Dawn by Sevgi Soysal

Trashlands by Alison Stine

The Girl in Red by Christina Henry

How to be Eaten by Maria Adelmann

The Way Spring Arrives and Other Stories edited by Yu Chen and Regina Kanyu Wang

The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown

Black Tide by KC Jones

A Half-Built Garden by Ruthanna Emrys

The Ambergris Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer

The Great Cities Duology by NK Jemisin

The Spider and her Demons by sydney khoo

A Shining by Jon Fosse

Bad Cree by Jessica Johns

Other Terrors: An Inclusive Anthology edited by Vince A Liaguno and Rena Mason

Self-Portrait with Nothing by Aimee Pokwatka

Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin

Unexpected Places to Fall From, Unexpected Places to Land by Malcolm Devlin

Always North by Vicki Jarrett

At the Edge of the Woods by Masatsugu Ono

Bonus Readerly Goal: i'm gonna try REALLY hard to only buy a book after i read five (5), this year (pre-orders DNI). gotta get that backlist under control SOMEhow, right??

notes on the color-coding: the green books are Just Because books (with a couple little red riding hood adjacent retellings in there, which is writing-project-related). a few of these came in a translation subscription box, and i am Interested in Architecture, and i'd love to read more of both this year.

the blue ones are bookmarked for nano prep (i wanna write something fucked up about space this year, i think, it's still cooking). i know it's early for that, but The Vibes™ have to marinate for a while. will probably add some haunted house books to this part of the list!

lastly, the purple ones are driscoll adjacent! filling my words well with related vibes worked well, this year, and i want to do that again next year. since i read through the entirety of my previous ~driscoll vibes~ stack last year, i've been restocking it, so most of these are very recently purchased.

(please note that all this color-coding/explanatory text is absolutely optional and Extra™, if you want to play--you can add it if you'd like, but by no means feel Obligated To Do So lol)

tagging @asexualbookbird, @six-of-ravens/@sixofravens-reads, @agardenandlibrary, @freckles-and-books, and anyone else who wants to play!

[lipglossanon]

fifth one bitch (respectfully) let’s go lmao

whichever stepdaddy leon you want, again any flavor you like but reader isn’t getting enough attention so she’s wearing skimpy things around the house while mom’s not home trying to get leon’s attentions normally he’s all for it very hands on and now he just wants to see what she’ll do to keep his attention and today it’s sitting on the couch adjacent to him like an L shape right,,, in an oversized t shirt eating ice cubes (you can guess where my brain is taking this one 🤭) and she just starts rubbing them on her thighs and eventually starts putting them in herself and he notices but doesn’t want to acknowledge it just to see and so she keeps going eventually she stops after not getting the reaction she wanted from him and after melting an entire ice cube she takes the partially melted one out and puts back in the cup of ice so leon gets up and takes it out of the cup and puts in his mouth without saying a word and later after he’s done working he sits on the couch next to her this time with a cup of ice and puts one in her for a little bit for it to melt slightly before putting it in his mouth and sucking on it

- 💀

(i’m very fond of notes at the end of my asks apparently lol but teeny tiny idea from my brain,,,, dark!stepdaddy leon and reader as red riding hood and a wolf 👀 oh the places my brain could go with this 🤭….. like him pining her down and getting real extra with the growling and biting telling her how vulnerable of a little girl she is and how he just wants to eat her while he rips the upper half of her costume in half and starts rubbing her through her underwear especially ~thrilling~ if they’re outside somewhere,,,,, just perfect)

AGSHF respect taken 🤭

Your ideas are so good 😩 😩 my inbox is always blessed 😌 🤭

And no lie! That’s what I wanna do for dark stepdad’s Leon and readers Halloween costumes! 🫣 but I also have like a werewolf Leon lined up so I thought it might be too same-y 😝

We be vibing 😌

[0nelittlebirdtoldme]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! 💞

Thank you for sharing this ask, Argyle! Tried to pick at least a few stories I haven't had a chance to highlight in the past, so here you go!

DS. I am sorry, i love this little big mess, with it being my first real fic ever, the one that started it all for me three good years ago. There are still some scenes in it I love and come back to every once in a while.

TGN. Brainrot Hype Train. Darkest Timeline AU for Johnny boy. Poor him :(

Second Commandment. Oh, this is a surprise. My one and only Moby Dick adjacent fic/poetry. I know it is heavy on the prose and imagery, but I still like it.

Perfect Little Version. Had to choose one from Fight Club and this might be it. Also the line My suicide note has grown legs and a consciousness. Yeah. That still fucks with even me.

Take a Bite. Dark Little Red Riding Hood triple drabble. The wolf is actually just a boy, which, really, is the real horror in such a scenario.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

so kinda checking in to see what the top 5 halloween ideas are right now...

mtt poly: yeah of course i have an idea for the fic already. gonna be so deliciously horrible. dust might be ooc but it's fine he can be a little bit crazy with love as a treat.

dust x dream: uhh surprised to see it so high up but ok i guess? i also have somewhat of an idea for this. this one's gonna be a bit weird too idk.

dust x horror: i'm gonna make a red riding hood retelling out of this one for sure. dust the red riding hood eheheh :]

no ship: i have prepared for this possibility. gonna be somewhat difficult but i'd persevere (hopefully)

dust x reaper: uhhh also surprised since it's not a popular ship? i guess people like the idea of this for halloween. i have something for this, but not sure if it's gonna be a horror. maybe horror-adjacent of sort.

[cookieeks-art]

🎃🎃🎃Happy halloween everyone! 🎃🎃🎃

And sorry for my inactivity on here, this year is showing itself as a time where I’m just, really lacking energy to be and struggling with being social online. Still I wanted to at least jump in and share some halloween adjacent art for the season, so under the cut you will find a piece I admittedly drew a while ago, but that I’m still pretty proud of (at the time I did share it on discord)! Tw for blood, since it features a vampire!Edda (And a Red riding hood! But she doesn’t have any blood on her).

Also! Some context! I did this one a while ago for yet another red shoes au that’s been bouncing around in my head. This one’s about the f7 being monster hunters, but Arthur (and probably Jack let’s be real) keeps dating a bunch of monsters to the teams dismay. This image? Two of Arthur’s monster partners. They are also dating each other’s because monster girlfriends :].

[ID:

Three images

The first is a digital drawing of my oc Edda but as a vampire and Red riding hood from Red shoes and the seven dwarfs looking at the viewer. Edda is dressed in a dark red robe with a neckline similar to a mad scientist costume, with poofy arms tied at the end of each arms four times, and a belt. She’s also wearing light brown gloves, and a dark brown hood, with her hair tied back. She’s smiling with her head tilted so she’s almost looking down at the viewer, blood around her mouth and her fangs prominent. She’s paler then normal, light pink skin less saturated but has regained a flush of red on her cheeks. The back of her glove has blood on it from her dragging at against the corner of her mouth. Red is leaning forward so she’s looking up at the viewer, she’s also smiling, her teeth sharp and wolf like. Her wolf ears are standing in attention, covered in dark fur that extends to the side of her chin. hands with large claws are hovering a little in front of her, and her tail is visible behind her. They are being lit by both the light of the moon, and two warm lights in front of them which are also lighting up the evergreen trees behind them. They are in the woods in the middle of the night, the star filled night sky visible behind the trees.

The second is a close up on Eddas face.

The third is a close up on Red riding hoods face.

End of ID]

[cepheusgalaxy]

Meet the wip - Little Red Riding Hood Cyberpunk

[PT: Meet the wip - Little Red Riding Hood Cyberpunk /end PT.]

Sinopsis:

In a society with strict social divisions and far too many technological advances that do too little to better the life of the people, a bitter girl joins a revolutionary group to make her world a better place to live.

Extra info:

Tags: #lrrhc wip

Genre: Sci-fi, futuristic fantasy, cyberpunk-adjacent?, revolution story

Moodboard:

none yet

About the setting: I LOVE this world. It’s my only sci fi story so I worked with very different concepts than I usually do, and it’s very fun to flesh it out. But basically, there are a lot of countries in a futuristic world and people hate the poor. Also some royalty here and there because I love the idea of futuristic monarchy (side-eyes Star Wars in approvement).

Notes section:

as you can guess, it is sorta inspired on the Little Red Riding Hood tale. Very loosely though, and it just came up as I wanted to mix up fairy tale + cyberpunk together. I still want to incorporate more elements fromt the tale on this story though.

this is one of the lest fleshed out casts from all my wips, and I only have two named characters but there are a lot of character concepts I’m playing around with.

Previously used tags: #salrrh tag

Cast: Amani [protagonist], Alika [supporting character], {Unnamed} [minor antagonist], (this cast is undefined)

Back to WIP Masterpost | OC Masterpost | Writing Masterlist | #lrrhc wip tag | Meet the ocs of this wip!

[princess-ibri]

Your Goldilocks is so cute! Do you have a Little Red Riding Hood design?

Yes! Sorry it took a bit. Disney actually had a Little Red Riding Hood short where she and the Three Little Pigs teamed up against The Big Bad Wolf, and I’d always thought I’d like to base an updated design on that one. They also had a Red character in the Goldie and the Bear show who had a different design, included it here as I took a few references from it, like her bodice and eye color. Since they ended up looking similar I think I’d have my Red be my Goldielocks younger sister or something

(There was also a Red Riding Hood adjacent character in Tangled the series but she’s really more of her own thing. What will be really interesting is parsing out just how Giselle’s story of an axe wielding Red fits into this hypothetical Disney movie xD)