My blog features erotic imagery and gore/horror elements not suitable for minors.
My fics include sexual violence, coercion/non-con elements, physical harm, explorations of trauma, and other potentially triggering subjects. I do not romanticize harm, but I write dark content. If a trigger warning is present at the top of a chapter, assume the content is explicit.
Fandom: Over the Garden Wall
Pairing: The Beast x Reader
AO3 Tags: Psychological Horror, Dreamscapes, Body Horror, Mild Gore, Mind Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Word count: 4,740
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Vacancy
No Cordyceps/Modern Day AU. A slow, intimate slide into a dynamic built on control, and the kind of closeness that takes more than it gives.
Fandom: Last of Us
Pairing: Joel x f!Reader
AO3 Tags: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV First Person, POV Joel (The Last of Us), Dark Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs Therapy (The Last of Us), Reader-Insert Has Mental Health Issues, Reader-Insert Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Psychology, Size Difference, Age Difference, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Dubious Consent, Dom Joel (The Last of Us), Dom/sub Undertones, Predator/Prey, Rough Kissing, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Marking, Possessive Joel (The Last of Us), Coercion, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Bratting, Brat Tamer Joel (The Last of Us), Power Imbalance, Jealous Joel (The Last of Us), Competence Kink, Joel Has a Big Dick (The Last of Us), Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Creampie, Car Sex, Multiple Endings, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Aftercare, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Conditioning, Torture, BDSM, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Stockholm Syndrome
Word count: 101,226 (in progress)
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Fandom: The Last of Us (No Outbreak/Modern AU)
Pairing: Joel x f!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Word Count: 5,697
Trigger Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Noncon, Dubious Consent, Psychological Conditioning, Toxic Dynamics
Tags: Dark Romance, Jealous Joel, Possessive Behavior, Size Kink, Age Difference, Praise/Degradation
Summary: He sees everything. Nothing is hidden. Not the rhythm of her body, not the secrets in her blood. This is what it means to have no decisions to make. To simply be. A satellite in a steady orbit.
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Warm and yellow on a patch of green grass. The chirping of a specific kind of insect, a cicada I think. The weight of a small, solid body in my lap.
A little girl with dark, curly hair and Joel's eyes.
Sarah.
I am not myself. I am a watcher, a camera behind my own eyes. I'm wearing a gingham dress, the kind I've only ever seen in old photographs. I am stroking Sarah's hair, and her small hand is clutching my index finger with a surprising strength. There's a contentment in me so profound, so alien, it almost hurts.
Joel is there, stretched out on a blanket nearby, shirtless, a paperback book lying face down on his chest. He's smiling, a real, unguarded smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes. A look of pure, uncomplicated peace.
A cold dread seeps into the scene like dye into water. The air grows heavy, charged with wrongness. I try to stand up, to get away, but I am glued to the spot. My hand is still tangled in Sarah's hair.
“Helps to know what's coming,” a voice says. Not Joel's voice. My voice. But colder.
Sarah looks up at me, her wide, dark eyes holding a sudden, terrible awareness. She opens her mouth to speak, and a sound comes out. The grinding, groaning shriek of metal twisting, of brakes failing. The sunlight goes out, replaced by the sudden, blinding flare of headlights in the dark.
I wake with a strangled gasp, lunging upright in the bed. My heart is a frantic bird beating against my ribs, my skin clammy with cold sweat. For a disorienting moment, I don't know where I am. The darkness is absolute, the air still and cool. My hands fly to my stomach, to my hair, seeking the phantom feel of a small girl, the scratch of a gingham dress.
Joel's hand lands on my back, a heavy, grounding weight in the dark.
"S'alright. Just a dream."
The sound of his voice, even in this rough, sleepy state, is the anchor. The frantic bird in my chest slowly begins to still its wings. My breath comes in ragged, hiccuping pants. He pulls me back down, maneuvering my body until I am lying against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. He wraps an arm around me, a cage of muscle and bone, and I let myself be held. The dream recedes, leaving behind the sour taste of grief that isn't mine. Or maybe it is now.
