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f1nalboys · 1 year

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find the word wip game

rules: search your wip(s) for the words given to you and share a sentence, then assign words for the people you tag

thank you @ventiswampwater for tagging me :D my words were blood, eyes, sleep, skin, and break >:)))) did more than 1 sentence bc i cannot be told what to do <3

BLOOD ; paradox (blissfield butcher x fem!afab!reader.... i know)

"You stupid fuckin' cunt," he growls, his hand held to his side where you had kicked him, his gaze harsh. Your eyes dart to the knife he held, the blood covering the blade dripping onto the concrete floor. He grins, his face morphing into something you've never seen as he takes a large predatory step towards you. "You're gonna pay for that, you hear me?"

EYES ; candlestick in the living room ; keiji (my oc) fic :3

Keiji hums a tune as he looks through the living room. "Fucking hell, man," he says, looking over at the man in the chair. "Big house. Lots of worthless shit in it, though. Like you." Keiji grabs a decorative candle stick as he stalks towards the man, enjoying the weight of it in his hand. The tape on his mouth muffled his words but Keiji can tell by the fear in his eyes what he was doing; begging. A chill runs down his spine as he stands in front of the man, tilting his head at him, before laughing. "Fuck me. Did you just piss yourself? You're that fuckin' scared?" His voice is taunting, cruel and low, a far cry from his usual demeanor.

SLEEP ; untitled bo sinclair somno pussy worship fic >:)

Bo keeps his blue eyes trained on you as he slides down the length of the bed, pulling the cover off of you as he does so. Everything he does is deliberate, careful, trying not to wake you from your peaceful sleep, though he can't help but drag his fingers along your bare skin, your body warm under his unsettlingly gentle touch.

SKIN ; untitled mac from hell house smut fic

Mac's lips press against the skin of your neck, right at your pulse, and you have bite down onto your tongue as you feel the heat of his breath as he whispers.

BREAK ; fools gold (dark!lester sinclair x reader)

"You could use a break, don't you think?" He looks down at you with a mocking grin, his teeth covered in a thin layer of blood. His tongue swipes across them, one by one, and you swallow back a whimper of fear. He can smell it on you, through the sweat on your brow, the blood pumping through your veins, and his smile grows wider, almost impossibly so. "Oh, you're so afraid, aren't you, sugar?"

no pressure tagging @castieltrash1 @darklylucid @bisexual-horror-fan anndddddd anyone else who wants to do this!!! sorry if you've been tagged and obvi no pressure :3 your words areeeeeeee 'neck, layer, dark, fire/flame' :o

#ask tag thing #YAHOOO #i finally did one of these i always forget to sowwy #i love getting tagged in these things tho i go >:)#house of wax #bo sinclair #lester sinclair

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ariana-maryse · 2 years

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I posted 105 times in 2022

74 posts created (70%)

31 posts reblogged (30%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tawneybel

@raith-way

@borg-queer

@arianadevareux

@classichorrorblog

I tagged 105 of my posts in 2022

#anon message - 23 posts

#ask game - 21 posts

#get to know me - 12 posts

#tawneybel - 10 posts

#request - 9 posts

#anon ask - 8 posts

#give me a character - 7 posts

#blog update - 7 posts

#raith-way - 7 posts

#anon request - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 93 characters

#like that episode of spongebob where he's writing for like an hour but it's just a very fancy

My Top Posts in 2022:

Alright, I finished Stranger Things. Here's my takeaway.

20 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

PLS WRITE WHOLE ASS STORY FOR LURCH AND READER PLSNSGSGAHSHDDG

Okay I've never written like x reader in a full fanfic style and I'm not sure if I could do it properly. But I can try? Maybe do like a lil blurb at first.

Lemme ruminate on it. I typically write character x OC for full fanfics.

But also Lurch needs more content.

21 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

Frank N. Furter

I could heal them

I could change them

I could make them worse

I could help them commit atrocities

I could make them wear cat ears

Give me a character and I'll tell you which category they belong to!

25 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

⚔️ What slasher do you think you could beat in a fight?

YES.

I thought this said slashers and was prepared to do a full power point presentation about who's ass I could kick. But since I have to pick:

Billy and Stu. They come as a package deal. A package of BITCH because I'd mop the floor with them. Why, you may be wondering? I'm glad you asked.

I fight dirty. Idgaf about rules of engagement I'll bite em, put some dirt in their eye, hoof em in the wallace and doodleberries, targeted kidney punch. You name it. "But there's two of them," yeah and I'm a southern bitch with a fat ass I'll just sit on Stu and he'll have to wait his turn while I make Billy Loomis into Billy Loomwas.

Honorable mentions: The Blissfield Butcher big old ass, Freddy Krueger AKA the dude I beat in a nightmare I had when I was 5 smh, The Man from Hush that's just some mf that works in accounting,.

39 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Peter Graham Dating Headcanons Pt. 2

Part 1 Here. (For @lumosisasimp)

Because Peter can lean toward being clingy, you'd have to remind him that he needs to put effort into the other relationships in his life as well from time to time.

Although he wouldn't be great at remembering dates (phone notifications are his savior) he'd remember a lot of miscellaneous things about you; your drink order at the coffee/tea/boba shop, the show you'd been talking about watching, etc.

Peter would literally drop everything if you needed him. He can usually tell when you need help (albeit with a slight delay) but if you ask him, he'll be right there.

He'd definitely have you as his phone background. Or a picture of you two together. More than likely, it'd be you alone, though.

Tag List: @raith-way

Join My Tag List? | Buy Me A Coffee?

103 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #can't believe a part 2 is number 1

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jelly-drabble · 3 years

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Loosen Up

Synopsis: (Kind of) A sequel to a Butcher fic a friend wrote for me (Found here) Warnings: None AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35044057

The cheap linens scratched at Rat’s exposed ankles. Every few minutes he’d pull the legs of his sweatpants down to cover them again, but every time he shifted even slightly they’d just ride back up. This is what he had to worry about. Itchy bedding in a cheap motel. To say he was bored would be a huge understatement. It was downright painful for him to sit and do nothing, even for a few minutes. Hours had passed since sundown.

Leaving would mean their deal was off, though. And breaking their deal meant… well, presumably, death. Rat was happy with their arrangement. Ecstatic, even. But sitting still for this long almost made him want to break the rules just for the sake of immediate attention.

Off and on he took a few minutes to flip through the channels, none of which caught his eye. Something familiar would pop on and he’d stay put; he needed the noise. The TV was the only source of entertainment in the room, unfortunately.

He looked back and forth between the screen and the curtain drawn across the window. Not even light could leak in from behind the fabric, but he felt he had to check on impulse alone.

Before the faint jingling noise could register with Rat as the door being unlocked, it swung open. Drenched to the bone, The Butcher shoved past the door, slamming it shut behind him, and went straight to the bathroom.

By now, Rat knew Quentin wasn’t much for conversation, so he wasn’t really expecting a greeting when he first walked in. It didn’t stop him from following close behind.

Layers of sopping wet clothes were shed haphazardly onto the floor. The Butcher was in the process of peeling his undershirt off when Rat stepped into the bathroom. Deep purple bruises spotted his back and sides, and as he turned to face the smaller man, Rat realized the bruises and cuts covered his chest and face as well.

“Jesus, what happened?”

Quentin looked unimpressed and/or uninterested, as always.

He dropped his shirt, and inspected his black eye in the mirror. Luckily, Rat had picked up rubbing alcohol last time he was out. While Quentin poured generous amounts of it over the scrapes covering his hands and arms, Rat slinked around behind him to get to the tub. He knew he was being side-eyed the entire time.

“I know you’re big on whore’s baths, but uh-“ Rat turned the knob and began testing the temperature of the water, “Why don’t you take a real one?”

It was hard to decipher Quentin’s vacant expression as actually vacant, or a full on glare.

“You don’t even have to do anything, just lay down. You look like you got hit by a truck.”

To Rat’s credit, it took far less coaxing to get Quentin in the tub than he’d expected. Though he couldn’t lay down, and the tub was just wide enough for him to fit without being pressed up against it on either side. The soft groan that left Quentin’s lips spoke for him. Rat sat next to the tub, resting his arms on the edge.

Whatever this was, it was new. This had to be the first time Rat had seen him relaxed. Scratch that, the first time anyone had seen him relaxed. And even now, it was obvious he was still very aware of his surroundings. He could crush Rat’s windpipe in an instant if he wanted. Apparently, he didn’t.

Rat soaked a washcloth in the water, and with a generous amount of body wash, made broad circles on Quentin’s chest. Dark eyes focused on him, despite being half-closed.

“Here, can you, uh-,”

Quentin leaned forward, pressing his knees to his chest. As soon as the cloth touched his back he hissed, and Rat jerked back.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“Well I-,”

“Don’t fucking stop.”

Rat resumed, as gently as he could manage, scrubbing his back. Up and down, stopping only when he noticed a knot he could try and massage out. The Butcher, still spotted with blood and viscera, was unusually vocal. If he wasn’t already literally bathing the man, Rat might have been flustered. Quentin’s moans were deep, as if pulled low from inside his chest; they matched his voice perfectly.

It felt good to be wanted. To make someone else feel good. And God what a good excuse just to touch him. For Rat to get to feel Quentin’s coarse skin beneath his fingers. Even after a few minutes Rat found himself lost in the patterns he was making on his skin.

Parallel lines into figure-eights on his back, then up to his shoulder blades with more pressure in more concentrated points. Lighter lines down his arms, gently squeezing his biceps to gauge how much pressure was too much. Not that he got a real response.

In fact, he didn’t even need direction to allow Rat to squeeze a glob of shampoo into his hair. There was no way Quentin was afraid of Rat, for a handful of reasons, but he was shocked he would take his eyes off of him for a moment. He didn’t take the gesture for granted; his hands kneaded previously greasy curls, massaging the soap through them and into his scalp.

“You have such pretty hair…”

There hadn’t been any thought preceding those words, they just kind of slipped out. If Quentin was bothered by it, he didn’t care enough to say or even give him a look. Rat took that as his sign to continue.

Once the water was a light, reddish brown, Rat let the rag hang over the side of the tub. The brute in the bathtub looked at him from over his shoulder, pulling the plug. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

Before Rat could break that silence, a large hand cupped his cheek.

No fucking way.

The palm was soft from the bath, but the raised calluses were still very evident. He didn’t mind the feeling. The Butcher rubbed the smaller man’s cheek with his thumb.

Now neither of them knew what to say.

Being left in a now empty tub was only slightly more uncomfortable than their shared silence. Combined, it was enough to get Quentin off his ass and reach for the towel Rat had set out for him. Rat’s mouth hung open, but The Butcher didn’t wait around to hear what he might have to say.

Naked, but nevertheless clean, he left the room, patting himself down as he walked back to the bed. Still holding the towel in one hand, half-heartedly using it to dry his hair, he began flipping through the TV’s channels.

There was no breaking news tonight. No headline about The Butcher striking again. Presumably, it was what they’d both been expecting. They waited through the entire news block for at least a mention of missing people or mutilations or Butcher sightings, but they never came.

“No news is good news, right?”

Rat crept over to the side of the bed, and sat with his feet still hanging over the edge. This version of silence didn’t make him feel much better, though he was sure Quentin was doing just fine. He cleared his throat, though this wasn’t dignified with a glance.

“Ah-... As much as I like looking at your ass, you’re kinda blocking the screen.”

Though he didn’t see it happen, he imagined Quentin rolled his eyes. He dropped the towel in front of the bed and took a seat on his side of the bed.

Rat gestured to the now unlit bathroom, “You’re not getting dressed?”

“What’s the point of bathing if I’m just getting back into dirty clothes after?”

Good point.

It’s not like he had a change of clothes either, and Rat’s were at least three sizes too small.

“Hey, I’m not complaining, but how are you ever planning on getting them clean? You can’t leave the room like that.”

Quentin made himself comfortable, as if he owned the place. He stretched out his legs and rested his arms behind his head. With a slow exhale through his nose, he shrugged.

“That’s a problem for tomorrow.”

“You’re not crashing on me now, are you? You just got back!”

“Got a better plan?”

“I… I know some drinking games.”

“With what booze? You’re not leaving the room without me, and I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

Dramatic as ever, Rat groaned loudly and fell onto his back next to Quentin. He hated being alone. Even if he wasn’t really alone, being the last one awake made him feel alone.

“We can watch TV,” he suggested.

“There isn’t shit on. You weren’t even watching it while I was gone.”

Also true. He was grasping at straws, and it was beyond apparent.

“We can-…” Rat drummed his fingers on his hip and dug deep for whatever bullshit he could come up with.

“Rub my back.”

In an instant, Rat sat straight up.

Christ, show a little self restraint.

A half smile cracked The Butcher’s lips, and he rolled over onto his stomach. “Self restraint” lasted all of two seconds before Rat ran his fingertips lightly up his spine. Quentin shuddered, goosebumps rose on his skin. It wasn’t something he’d ever admit, but it was fairly obvious, he’d never been touched quite like this. Not in a gentle, non-sexual way.

Ever the impatient man, Rat straddled Quentin’s ass to get a better position. Had he wasted even a second to start rubbing circles into The Butcher’s lower back with his thumbs, he probably would have been thrown off the bed. There had never been a point in time where Quentin wasn’t in complete control.

Tonight was a good night for firsts.

“Jesus fuck-…” he exhaled.

There was no point in searching for knots, as his entire back was tight, and there was only so much a hot bath could do on its own. Though the man on his stomach didn’t seem to be complaining at the moment.

Rat took to using his knuckles under the shoulder blades, trying to work out the strained muscles. Despite burying his face into the pillow, Quentin’s occasional moans were still audible.

Cute had never really been a word Rat would have used to describe him before. Even now it wasn’t one he’d say directly to Quentin’s face. He’d think it, even after the massage, and hope that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to do it.

“Higher,” a muffled voice directed from inside the pillow.

He tested between his shoulder blades, and even if he couldn’t feel how tight it was, the noises Quentin was making told him he’d found the right spot.

Tenderly, his knuckles worked around and against the knot. Deep, but not too forceful. If it were physically possible, he could tell Quentin would have melted into a puddle right then and there. All of his limbs fell limp into the mattress, his face sank into the pillow.

It wasn’t until Rat realized the gratified sounds had stopped that he suspected trouble. He half expected to be flipped onto his back within the second, but Quentin didn’t bother to move.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Rat froze. Physical touch would probably come off as superficial at this point.

“I-... Why wouldn’t I be?”

He knew why he shouldn’t be. It felt redundant to call him a butcher.

Quentin didn’t say anything else, he just started to lift himself up, signalling Rat to get off of his back.

“Maybe I don’t have a good reason. I just like you, I like being around you.”

Apparently, that was the right answer. Two enormous hands cupped either side of Rat’s face and brought him in for a slow but deep kiss. The softest kiss they’d ever exchanged. When Quentin broke it, he placed another small one on Rat’s forehead and pulled him into his chest.

“You’re mine,” he said, without threat or passion. It was simply a fact.

He belonged to The Butcher.

#freaky (2020)#the blissfield butcher #quentin shermer #the blissfield butcher x oc #slasher fanfic #slasher x oc #mine

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