#I just wanted to draw killer in a skirt

[ossiethegreat]

drew the sillies in me and my bff’s outfits except I’m not saying which one is mine

@paximilion gay 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

Color belongs to superyoumna

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

:-)

[doctorho]

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

[tea-darling1]

Headcanon designs!! :3

old art but i gotta keep the grind of art posts up otherwise i WILL forget in about a week and i shouldnt do that again cause i feel BAD. anyways these are some hc designs for some creepypasta characters that i drew like almost a year ago and i just never finished them because i didnt want to draw their feet and also cause i hated some of the designs, esp emra's WHY DOES HER SKIRT LOOK LIKE THAT SOBS anyhoo (there will be 2 vers of (almost) all the drawings, because some characters have masks, gloves, etc that hide certain parts of their design) BLOOD/HORROR/IMPLIED SH WARNING!!! drawings under the cut !

Characters in order: Jeffery Hodek woods (jeff the killer), Liu Hodek Woods (Homicidal Liu), Benjamin Lawman (ben drowned), 'Eyeless Jack', Tobias Rogers (ticci toby), Cody XXX (x-virus), Jonathan Blake (The Puppeteer), Helen otis (the bloody painter <3), 'Hobo Heart', Jason Meyer (Jason the toymaker), Nathan Lux (Nathan the nobody) + Crystal lux, Jane richardson (jane the killer), Nina hopkins (Nina the killer), Natalie oulette (clockwork), Sally williams, Lazari Swann, ZERO, Dina clarke (judge angels), Ann Lusen-Mia (nurse ann), Sadie bennett (su!c!de sadie), Emra Aldridge, Adeline abendroth (ally the slenderdoll) erm if anyone is confused or curious about any of the designs hmu or smth HELP dude idk i needed something to post and this is kinda old but it took me like 3 weeks soooo who knows i might update/finish this one day also the designs are kinda outdated for some

[rhiannonsknife]

you are quite literally an angel sent down from heaven. i think i died and ascended all the way up to the pearly gates after reading your response

i know you mentioned this a little bit in your coworker!rhiannon drabble and i don't mean to be beating a dead horse but theres just something about teasing rhiannon while she's at work, especially if you're working with her, only a few feet away but impossibly out of reach

you keep sending her explicit messages, detailing every dirty thought that passes through your mind, and you relish in the way that her cheeks heat up the second she reads them. you also send her countless photos every time you go to the bathroom (or even sending a photo at your desk with your skirt lifted just enough for her to see your absolutely soaked panties) and you know from the way her eyes widen and her finger presses down on the image that she's saving every single one of them

coming over to her desk because she wants you to "help her with an email" after toying with her all day and she's whispering in your ear, telling (begging) you to stop being such a tease. of course, you "accidentally" brush a hand against her clothed cunt in response, enjoying the way she whines under her breath and glares at you with her bottom lip between her teeth

it eventually gets to be too much and she's beckoning you to come with her to the bathroom for a "feminine emergency", but in reality, you're getting down on your knees and pressing kisses to her dripping pussy

she's so close to cumming all over your face when you hear someone knock on the bathroom door and ask if you're alright in there. rhiannon looks down at you, wondering if you're going to stop, but you just give her a look and keep lapping at her cunt. she's desperately trying to croak out an answer in a way that doesn't give away that your tongue is inside of her, and all she manages is an "i'm fine!" before she's cumming all over your face, almost drawing blood with how hard she bites on her lip to stay quiet

and oh, she's not letting you off scott-free for all your teasing. she will be pulling out the strap the second she gets home and bringing you to more orgasms than you can keep count

-🪐

🪐 anon please don’t ever stop spoiling us with your genius thoughts. nsfw content. mdni.

i feel like office sex with rhiannon in general would be…something. in the beginning (before becoming a serial killer) she would not be as down to try, too worried about getting caught. but once she gains enough confidence?? suddenly, rhiannon is the one who regularly shoves you into the bathroom stall or starts feeling you up from behind when it’s just the two of you in the staff room…

but, anyway, once said confidence is established you make it your mission to tease her as much as anyhow possible!! you know you are rhiannon’s number one soft spot and you know exactly how to make good use of it…

right now, you’re on your knees before her, her skirt pushed up her thighs, her panties already stuffed in the pocket of your jeans (which is where you’ll be keeping them for the rest of the day).

it had started harmlessly enough. after waking up with her earlier this morning and making a point of entering the office separately to avoid any unnecessary and annoying commentary from one of your colleagues, you haven’t stopped thinking about her once. how could you when, the night prior, you’d spent hours in bed together? when you can still taste rhiannon on your tongue from how she’d been riding your face shamelessly?

so, obviously, you had to make your horniness her problem.

if you could, you’d literally send every single one of your useless coworkers out and ask rhiannon to eat you out right then and there, on top of your desk. but, since that was not an option, you had settled for the next best thing: texting her. every other minute, rhiannon’s phone went off. at first, she expected something work-related and her eyes went wide when she saw your message, telling her about how you couldn’t stop thinking about her in explicit detail.

and you didn’t leave it at that: you kept sending her messages, even used your bathroom breaks to send her pictures, too, pulling up your shirt or shoving your hand down your pants. you can see from your spot that rhiannon, despite her warning glares, looks at every single one of them and even saves them to her camera roll. once, you even called her desk phone from the bathroom, only to moan into the received or hold it to your own pussy, letting her hear how wet you are for her.

when she finally got up from her desk to beg tell you to stop torturing her already, you pushed it too far: as she pretended to point out errors in an email you’d written, she leaned over your shoulder from behind.

“i swear to god, baby, you need to-“ your hand pressing against her crotch shut her up. “quit” she gasped, her hips immediately rolling against the press of your fingers. rhiannon’s lashes fluttered and she sighed softly.

“bathroom” she had instructed once she finally gathered herself. “now”

and, who are you to deny her that?

and that’s, precisely, how you’d gotten yourself into your current position: kneeling before her, panties taken off and out of your way, mouth where it’s supposed to be: on rhiannon’s cunt. she’s dripping down your chin, at this point. your teasing must’ve really done it for her.

rhiannon is leaning back against the sink to balance her weight, one leg thrown over your shoulder, a hand buried in your hair. her head is tilted back a bit and she’s panting already, even though you haven’t done much yet. only mouthed at her pussy, licked broad strokes through her wetness, and pressed the tip of your tongue against her clit in a way that had her knees buckling. it’s been your teasing that got rhiannon to this point: wet and wanting. that’s all it takes for your girlfriend to be dripping down your chin.

you watch her when you start eating her out more purposefully; pushing your tongue deeper, applying more pressure in all the right places, watching the way rhiannon falls apart above you. she has to rest more of her weight back to avoid her knees giving out beneath herself right then and there and her breath comes in short pants.

“shit” she hisses, one hand running through her disheveled hair as the other pulls you closer. rhiannon shouldn’t want this. it shouldn’t turn her on to be eaten out in a place where all of your coworkers could hear if she’s not careful. you’ve locked the door, obviously, but that doesn’t mean the people outside wouldn’t be able to overhear her moans through the thin walls.

it’s a risk. a risk worth taking, because rhiannon tastes heavenly and looks her most beautiful as she’s shaking and visibly struggling with trying to be quiet. she’s rocking her hips, too, for an extra feel of your tongue lapping up her arousal. at home, in your bed, this would probably be a point where she’d be too frustrated with you. where she would toss you around and ride your face in order to get off. but that’s not happening here. (she will make up by laying you down, later, and fuck you with her strap until you’re a babbling mess, apologizing for teasing her like this in the first place…)

all rhiannon can do is lean back and take what you’re giving her as she tries to be quiet. her hand slams over her mouth once you bring your fingers up as well and push two of them into her while sucking on her clit harshly. she barely contains the whine, only trying to poorly cover it with an exaggerated clear of her throat just in case anyone is near the door.

you hope that there’s not: even as rhiannon tries to be quiet, her pussy certainly isn’t: you can hear how wet she is, as you pump your fingers in and out of her while your tongue flicks against her clit.

like this, it doesn’t take long until she’s close to cumming. you don’t have a lot of time so fortunately you know what it takes and what you have to do to make rhiannon cum quickly: you know where to put your mouth, where to bend your fingers, where to apply just the right amount of pressure. it’s not long until she starts getting tense and tighter around your fingers, walls fluttering.

it’s perfect, the way her body goes rigid in the pre-orgasmic bliss. you’re ready for her to stumble over the edge, already watching her eagerly. and then someone’s knocking on the door. you both flinch, instantly glaring at the other.

“rhiannon?” someone’s voice echoes. “are you alright in there sweet pea?”

rhiannon is still staring at you, panting: eyes wide, chest rising and falling rapidly. and then, she nods and you put your mouth back where you both want it. her eyes press shut tightly and she bites her palm as she musters up enough strength to speak without sounding like she’s currently getting fucked.

“uh-“ she rasps, eyes rolling back. “yeah, i’m alright. i’m alright. don’t worry lana!”

that’s all it takes. that, and another harsh suck on her clit. lana is still in front of the door; you can still hear her muffled voice, offering her help. but it’s white noise to the way rhiannon looks as she cums. her back arches and she puts her hand back over her mouth as she rides out the waves of her orgasm on your tongue. you’re lucky; she somehow manages to cum in silence. otherwise, you’re both sure, lana would’ve definitely heard…

you know by the way she later grabs you by the arm and guides you back to her car that you’re in for something when you get back home.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Do Not Disturb

Day 11 of Kikitober

Plot: you should've known better than to let your thoughts drif taway during the meeting.

Warnings: edging and fingering used as punishment, voyeurism?, MDNI 🔞⚠️ , not proofread

Characters: Killer x F!Reader (x Kid)

"The weather is rather nice today" you thought to yourself not paying attention to the briefing that took place right now. You weren’t a fan of them, thinking that most of the time they were usless and boring.

You were sure that sometimes they were just meant to boost Kid's ego especially after a victory. Other times you asked yourself why you had to join. Killer could tell you all you needed to know later when he sneaked into your cabin.

"I think I'll go shopping later on. Maybe Killer wants to come along"

"Oi, y/n" someone shouted ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?" You shook your head to look at the men at the table.

"Did you pay any attention to what I was saying" the voice shouted. you turned in the direction it came from to see your captain in a rather angry mood.

"I asked you a question brat" he shouted once again.

"Sure i paid attention, I just let your words sink in" what a horrible lie.

"Then repeat what I said"

Busted.

"I uhm,I can't" you stuttered feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Sorry, is this little meeting too boring for you" he said voice dark and fist clenching.

A small yes escaped your lips but as soon as it did you covered your mouth with your hands. "Fuck why did i say that out loud" you thought hoping no one heard it.

Well the look on Kid's face told you that this didn’t go unnoticed.

He clenched his jaw, eyes dark and full of rage. You knew you crossed the line. You only wished to disappear right now. Fear spreading through your body.

"What was that!" He yelled making you sink into your chair.

"Fuck if you can't pay attention yourself we'll have to make you" he growled a devilish smile on his face.

You gulped.

"Killer get her"

"Wait-" you jumped out of your chair trying to get out but the first mate was faster and had already grabbed you, dragging you to his seat next to Kid.

Standing in front of Kid, being held in place by Killer made you shiver. What did he plan on doing to you.

"I need to teach you a lesson and show everyone what happens when you ignore me" Kid taunted you, hand squeezing your cheek. He looked at Killer and smiled. And you did not like it.

Killer sat back down on the chair pulling you onto his lap. Your back facing his chest, hands trapped in between, as he spread your legs. You cursed yourself for wearing this fucking skirt today.

"Let's continue and as for you doll" Kid said looking at you "i will not hear a single sound from you, you will not disturb this briefing any longer understood" You nodded nervously.

The briefing continued where it left off when you felt calloused fingers kneading your knees. You were startled about to squeal but thankfully were able to swallow it.

Fingers started to move over your inner thighs drawing lazy circles. The sensation sent shivers down your spine and made it harder to suppress the sounds that threatend to leave your lips.

You once made the mistake to look over at Kid who must've felt your gaze on him because he looked back at you for a moment shit eating grin on his face.

You decided it would be better not to look around you too much and try to blend the men in the room out because the fact that they were watching this whole scene sent a rush of embarrassment and heat through your body.

Gritting your teeth your breath hitched when one of Killer's fingers brushed over your clothed core. Earning you a nasty look from Kid.

Killer was talking and discussing with the others while tormenting you with his fingers like this was the most normal thing.

He moved the fingers of one hand further up your thighs lingering there while his other started to tease your core more and more through the fabric of your panty. Fingers running slowly up and down.

You let out a small whimper, luckily for you Killer was the only one to hear it.

"Shhh kitty, if Kid hears you this will get worse" he whispered in your ear.

You tilted your head slightly to look at him with pleading eyes. But all you got was another rush of heat through your body as you felt him move the fabric of your panty aside. That bastard enjoyed torturing you like this.

You soon realized that sharing a bed with Killer meant that he knew exactly how to get you riled up.

Oh god. This was getting too much. The moment his finger brushed against your flesh you started to breath heavily biting your lower lip to muffel a moan.

A finger suddenly pushed into your already dripping entrance. You bit your lower lip so hard that you were sure it would draw blood. But you didn’t care at least not right now. You cursed Killer and his tormenting fingers.

Why does this god damn briefing take so long.

When a second finger was added your head fell back on Killer's shoulder hips bucking. He wrapped his other hand around you to keep you from moving.

You heard some of the other men in the room shift in their seats while others seemed to breath a little heavier than before. Knowing that you were the reason for all this made your cheeks flush. Their eyes burning holes into your body as they imagined fucking you right here right now.

This was going to end so bad for you. You were on the brink of exploding. All you wanted was to beg Killer to stop. Or maybe not stop entirely just stop the teasing and give it to you right here.

But then again the thought of the others watching embarrassed you. This was already embarrassing.

The slow movement of Killer's fingers caused tears to form in the corner of your eyes. Until one finger pressed against your clit slowly rubbing it.

Fuck no. The sensation of his fingers inside you and the one on your clit made you moan, back arching, eyes closing. Causing everyone to attract their attention on you.

"What did i tell you" Kid shouted but there wasn’t anger in his voice it was more some sort of satisfaction.

"I'm sorry" you stuttered, as another moan followed. Killer not once stopping his movements. You were so close just a little more.

"That's enough" Kid ordered. No, not now just a few more seconds you thought to yourself but Killer removed his hands from you.

You whimpered.

Kid stared at you - looking like the devil himself.

"Briefing's over now get out you horndogs." he said making everyone leave.

"Now to you doll" he groaned facing you. "You've been ignoring the briefing, paid no attention to whatsoever i said and you've been distracting us with your little noises" he said grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you of off Killer's lap and close to his face.

You weren't able to form a single word, exhausted from the stimulation.

"You better make it up to me and your part time lover here or I'll have the others join us" he demanded voice full of feral desire.

You looked puzzeled at him.

"What you really thought that I didn't know that you and Kill are fucking" Kid groaned his lips brushing your ear.

No you actually thought that you were really good at hiding this fact. Surprised you looked at Killer.

"Sorry kitty, but I'm the first mate i share everything that goes on, on this ship with Kid" Killer shrugged, you didn’t expect that either -at least you could stop hiding now.

"We share a lot of things..."Kid mocked a dangerous smile on his face.

You swallowed. Staring at the captain and the first mate.

Pushed against the table you were stripped of your clothes and spent the rest of the day screaming and begging as Killer 'shared' you with the captain making sure you'd never again be distracted during briefings.

[kim-jongin-s]

svt fic recs (mostly nc-17; jeongcheol, minwon, seokgyu, wonchan + other)

JEONGCHEOL

"uncomplicated". college!au. oneshot, 3.5k. r.

He doesn't lean into it, to the gravity that pulls himself bodily to Seungcheol. He doesn't have the excuse of alcohol anymore, and he has to go back to how they were before the high of hormones and lust. Jeonghan just keeping an arm's length away. Close enough to reach, but still an infinity away.

"promise of the solstice". royalty!au: knight!sc, prince!jh. oneshot, 43k. pg-13.

New friends, joyous festivities, and blossoming love is the nature of the Winter Solstice. It would be better, Jeonghan thinks, without the attempt on Prince Minghao's life.

"amorem et circenses". historical!au, omegaverse: alpha gladiator!sc, omega prince!jh. 3 chapters, 68k. nc-17. ♡

Jeonghan, heir to the Roman Empire, is conquered too. By a gladiator, Seungcheol, whom he's not supposed to love, for the sake of Rome.

"lean on me". college!au. 8 chapters, 73k. nc-17.

“Choi Seungcheol.” The guy introduces himself, holding his hand out for Jeonghan to take it. It is a friendly and completely non-provoking gesture. Jeonghan doesn’t take it.

“Don’t I also get a name?” Seungcheol asks curiously as Jeonghan reaches for the door handle. Jeonghan pauses, throwing a mischievous grin in Seungcheol’s direction.

“No.”

MINWON

"everybody wants a taste (that's why)". oneshot, 2.5k. nc-17.

Wonwoo gets jealous and Mingyu tries to make it up to him.

"professor jeon and the room of requirement". hogwarts!au. oneshot, 3k. nc-17.

professor jeon and his favorite quidditch star in the room of requirement.

"nevergreen". au. oneshot, 10k. nc-17.

Wonwoo doesn’t expect to run into Kim Mingyu in the buffet line during the dinner break at the Fashion and Luxury Brand Financial Management Conference—but it happens.

"can i get "i told you so" in the chat?". au: streamer!ww, volleyball player!mg. 12 chapters, 98.5k. pg-13. ♡♡

“Repeat that one more time, but slower,” Chan suggests.

“An interview came out with Kim Mingyu, the ace hitter of the Olympic men’s volleyball team,” Seungkwan says slowly. “And he’s a fan of Wonwoo hyung. Like, a huge fan.”

↳ "closer, closer, even closer". au: streamer!ww, volleyball player!mg. oneshot, 6k. nc-17.

When you're dating Kim Mingyu, of all people, it's only natural to yearn for him a little. Especially when he's been in Japan for a week and Wonwoo only gets to see him on TV and there's a big Mingyu-sized hole in the apartment. Right?

So, anyway. Wonwoo yearns.

SEOKGYU

"tell me, we belong together". omegaverse: beta!dk, alpha!mg. oneshot, 11k. nc-17.

Omega and Alpha noses singe with the acrid scent of a possessive, pissed-off Kim Mingyu. In his arms, Seokmin rests, Beta senses none-the-wiser.

"뺏긴 my heart, that boys a killer". oneshot, 16k. pg-13.

Like the jagged edges of a knife. Like the unexpected sharp prick of pain from a small thorn hidden beneath beautiful flower petals. It draws you in, the vibrancy in its colors, the slightly musky scent, swaying freely in the open field. Only hidden beneath can be the sticky sap sticking you together or the thorns pushing you away.

Mingyu’s heart threads itself in thorns.

WONCHAN

"treat me like dinner". au. oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

A dopey satisfied look crosses Wonwoo’s face before sharpening into something more unreadable when his eyes travel down his body. Chan’s breath hitches as the other’s right hand lands on his thigh, his left one squeezing his waist.

“This is new,” Wonwoo hums, twisting the soft fabric of Chan’s circle skirt between his fingers. “I don’t remember seeing you wearing it before.”

"in a frame". au: photographer!ww. oneshot, 9.6k. pg-13.

With every photo Wonwoo takes, Chan finds himself staring into the eye of the lens.

It shouldn’t mean everything, but it does.

OTHER

"waiting in intermission". gyuhao. omegaverse: alpha!mg, omega!mh. oneshot, 2k. nc-17.

Mingyu remembers when he used to ask for it— wanting, aching for the indifference Minghao reeked of. Asked for it until he no longer had to, until Minghao just knew.

"my heart by your side forever". jigyu. omegaverse: alpha!wz, omega!mg. oneshot, 2.6k. pg-13.

mingyu presents. jihoon tries to process this fact in a normal way.

"[baby] i'm just trying to play it cool". wonwoo/dk/dino. college!au. oneshot, 11k. pg-13.

Seokmin makes it his mission to teach his roommate Wonwoo how to flirt.

The plan backfires spectacularly on him.

"find nothing good". seokcheol. fantasy!au: werewolf!sc, hunter!dk. oneshot, 16k. nc-17.

There isn’t an easy answer, no way for Seokmin to explain that yes, he’s attracted to Seungcheol. Yes, he knows Seungcheol is a wolf, a natural born monster that should be eradicated. Seokmin has spent his entire life like this, learning to kill, killing, hands stained black and red and candy blue.

"curse the moon". seoksoon. magic!au: hunter!dk. oneshot, 19k. r.

Darkness is starting to envelope his senses, and he doesn’t know if it’s due to the night getting deeper or to the pain. Stopping in his tracks, he manages to raise his head towards the sky; the branches over his head look like distorted faces, leering at him, reminding him that he’s doomed. There’s a silver smile there, a slice of moon shining a bit of reflected light down on Earth. The snow seems even whiter.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I like the idea of Killer experimenting with clothing, particularly after the talk with Color about wants.

Apparently when someone asked rahafwabas where killer got his new outfit, they said “player,” which I take to mean that killer chose out his current outfit based on what he thought would most appease the forces he always feels watching him.

But I like the idea of killer, during his early weeks with nightmare, spotting cool and interesting and beautiful clothing in store windows and being so fascinated he stops and stares. Maybe the typical scene where’s he about to reach out to touch the glass, but nightmare calls him to attention and he immediately dismisses the idea of maybe buying that pretty dress.

But the thought keeps lingering and comes back in full force when color manages to get him to confess to something he wants while in stage 1. and now stage 2 finds pieces of colorful fabrics and textured clothed, pretty skirts and dresses drawing his empty, curious eyes.

And he decides to test things with nightmare before going for it. maybe not because he thinks that nightmare may not approve of killer wearing skirts or dresses (Killer doesn’t care what anyone’s opinions are on whatever outfit he wears), so much as he thinks nightmare might not like killer doing that without his permission or approval.

and so he does and says small things to garner nightmare’s opinions on these things, what small modifications he can and can’t get away with on his frame and outfit, testing if the boss would even notice or care. if this counts as breaking an unspoken rule.

and with confirmation that nightmare at least hasn’t noticed, its time to go bigger and see if he actually cares or not. see how well the boss takes it when killer wears something he has not allowed; either different shoes, a different jacket, different colored gloves. killer testing nightmare’s rules, his authority.

and nightmare just continues not to care. because there’s no way he hasn’t noticed by now. and killer doesn’t wait for any permission to jump at finally buying that skirt he saw.

i like the idea that killer one of the more fashion forward and gnc of the bad sanses, because he doesn’t care about others’ opinions or whatever societal norms may exist in human or monster cultures (he isn’t a human nor a monster, they don’t apply to him), but also i don’t think he would immediately after being taken from his timeline.

because hed push down any desire about it and dissociate from it, he doesn’t want anything, in stage 2. so i think hed need a bit of a push to actually go full in. (A push from someone he can at least trust won’t hold it against him later or attempt to take it from him, which he managed to get from color in stage 1.)

But eventually he becomes like that one anime character who wears a different outfit every episode whereas the rest of the cast all wear the same outfit most of the time.

[crushedsweets]

ANSWERING A TON OF ASKS AGAIN

(30 asks..)

the reason i added it to my AU was a nod towards Ann being popularly (?) shipped with Tim way back in the day! her reasoning is prob just some 'i like my men with muscles and beards' or something LMFAOOOOOOO

yes!

I APPRECIATE YOU!! youre so sweet and im glad it helps !

only english!

in my au, i could possibly see her in a long denim skirt... and there was that one alpite drawing of her in the miniskirt... looked really cute LOL

please release me from my prison.

WHAT ARE U REFERENCING

let the man dance. . . must he stand perfectly still. . . ?

i think her smile is sooo perfect. shes perfect.

LOL AS USUAL, toby clocky nina EJ and kate. my fave is between toby and nina

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LEAVING SUCH A SWEET MESSAGE!!! it makes me so happy when you guys enjoy the stuff im putting out, especially since im enjoying creating it! i have a lot more free time now since two of my accelerated classes ended, so im just always thinking about.. them... LOL ty again also ur english is perfect!

i didnt care for it just cuz i loved the OG so much, but i totally understand why the creator did it - being berated and bullied and harassed for years at such a young age over a fun little character you made . . . i would want to "fix it" as well. but i think ninas original concept was scary in its own right! i think copy cat killers and true crime fanatics are haunting and OG nina reflected that!!!

HE'S GOT LAZARI thats his ..half daughter half sister figure. LOL. maybe dina too ive been thinking abt that a lot... omfg and lulu...

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?? CHAT.

leave her ALOOOONNNEEEE SHES PERFECT THE WAY SHE ISSSS!!!!!!!!!!

i have! i read a bit about it and whatnot in 2023, but i didnt get fully into it! im too stuck in my own world ... RIP

ive drawn him once before! i really didnt like it . LOLLLLLLL i deleted it like a couple days after posting ... ill think about doing it again!

ive been meaning to draw her with them all up her right arm+both hands+back and peaking up her neck, but i keep forgetting!!!! i only seem to remember with jane , but thats cuz its like ... very fundamental to her design LOL

yea but it wasnt my thing... very cool concept, but the humor and pacing wasnt my taste!

i have actually!! way back in like 2020, one of my friends made me HAHA but i kept falling asleep during it . . .

yes.

CRISPY IS CRAZY LOL but yeah. i love her too. LOL

release him...

true.

HAHA YEAH I CHANGED IT A WHILE BACK..and now im debating changing it again... omg

thank you anon!! youre a sweetheart

ghglugghh...

[not-even-nostalgia]

Them

click for better quality why are you like this tumblr

ramble about designs and headcanons

All of them are a few years older than in canon cause I wanted to

As aforementioned I gave Mantha some bellbottoms swag because I imagine she grew up in the 70s before she died. Also just tried to make her look more zombie like while keeping the colour pallet.

Ra’s design didn’t change much I just added more detail. I used to imagine his skirt was made of denim as a neat modernisation but idk if it still works with the design now. Also I messed up his face but don’t look at it too hard. I’m not entirely sold on his design since I worry he looks like he’s in a costume compared to the rest of them. But idk maybe he’s just got a killer skin care routine.

I think it’d be funny if Casper despite wanting to be friendly actually looked more on the scary side so hence why he’s Like That. I wanted to give him period accurate clothing but it all sucks so I went back to the sweater and just gave him an undershirt with a large collar to vaguely allude to the 1800s. Also ik it doesn’t fit the movie but I hc that he froze to death hence the black frostbite-adjacent stuff.

Thatch’s canon design is acc so funny to me with his dress shirt and low rise jeans and chain so I just upped that. Dude wants to be punk so bad but he’s still got the rich kid mentality of needing his clothes to look neat and high quality. Anyway, Dummy Girl gave him the gloves. Also I had to change his hair I’m sorry even Thatch deserves better.

Dummy Girl’s design also didn’t change much but I gave her bigger platform shoes cause ya girl is short. She has the opposite problem to Casper (looks cute but would kill)

I didn’t draw it very well but Techwear Slither entered my head and wouldn’t leave me alone. So you get this. Added green to make him look more monster like. Also Slither in a skirt is necessary and iconic.

[shes-an-oddbird]

I am very excited about all of your wips omg. Can I request all of them?

Jokes aside can I ask about Pokemon Region and The magic that suites you?

Okay so I'll start with the pokemon region moodboards because you are partially responsible for inspiring them. I wanted to make pokemon moodboards for each character (i did this a long time ago for og 911) and I started tying the characters stories/teams together with a storyline/made up game play. Basically a player character would arrive in a city in a fictional region and interact with the characters. Nancy is the gym leader that has gone missing, Carlos is the detective looking for her, Paul runs the trainer cafe (which is perfect for him right??!) the Ryder Family home is one of those houses you just wander into and everyone gives you a useful item. Marjan and TK are Ace Trainers you have to beat to advance and Mateo is possibly a rival character? It really was just something fun I was working on. I probably won't make it into a fic but I thought a moodboard for each character with a little snippet underneath would be fun!

The Magic that Suits You is a little fic I was working on for Halloween. Basically everyone is attending an extravagant Halloween costume party thrown by Kendra Harrington (fic was started post season four but well before season five). It's super self indulgent because I love halloween! At the party there is a witch who tells them (our Catan Crew) that everyone has a little magic in them and what kind of magic best suits them. There is a chapter from each POV where they try to deny the magic happening around them at the party. Its all kind of subtle (like the way magic and santa exists in ever Christmas movie😂) and doesn't have much of a plot but maybe a little insight into each character.

Here is a snippet where they arrive at the party and I describe their costumes in unnecessarily long detail (Fun Fact: I wouldn't have to write this fic if I would just pick up drawing again because I think I just really want to draw them in fancy costumes)

To absolutely no one’s surprise Marjan looks amazing. From a distance TK thinks she gone for a classic witch costume but as the trio gets closer, he can see that’s not exactly right. She wore a wide brimmed hat but it’s not pointed. It sits more like a sun hat and perched on top, a large spider. Its draped in a veil of spider web that hangs long over Marjan’s shoulders before being loosely tied back so it didn’t get in her way. Web pattern and tiny spiders have been painted around her eyes and trailing down to her jaw where they disappear behind the black velvet turtleneck she wore. Her jewelry was heavily layered and also spider themed. Large dangling earrings, necklaces falling at all different lengths, only a single cuff bracelet on her left wrist and then a ring on every finger, sometimes two, some small some large. Her flowy skirt falls past her knees, silver black and webby, and is met by knee high boots.

Nancy looks striking. A crown of both dark and vibrant flowers is woven into her hair. Her face is painted with matching flowers around her eyes that are coated in a poisonously green glittering eye shadow. More flowers are painted down her neck and bare arm. At her wrist is a corsage, at the center of which sits a venus fly trap. Her other arm is covered by the sleeve of her flower embroidered and embellished dress. She has on black leggings beneath it to ward of the chill in the air and black hiking boots, stuffed with even more flowers.

Mateo is clearly a zombie. He’s done several patches of body and face paint that have turned his hands, forearms, neck and face skeletal. For a minute he’s surprised they didn’t do some sort of couples costumes, but then he notices smaller details, the tool belt around Mateo’s waist is weighed down with gardening tools, a trowel and a spade and on the other side, spray bottles, not labeled weed killer but labeled growth serum and antidote. The same flowers tucket into Nancy’s boots are shoved into Mateo’s pockets, including the chest pocket where a dark rose rests over his heart.

If Nancy is meant to be a dark poisonous garden of flowers, Mateo is meant to be her caretaker, slowly decaying as a result of tending to her but unwilling to stop. It’s creepy and creative and its makes him wish he and Carlos had been more clever in their own costume picking.

I'd love to tell you about all of them but I'll hold off for right now because its getting late. If there are still some you want to hear more about tomorrow just send me another ask!!!

[flusteredfools]

what would the far look like if they where goth?

Please don't take my lack of fashion sense and drawing with a killer headache as hate for Gothic style - cause I love Gothic style so very much even if I can't do it justice. Moon - His colors would shift to be closer to the artic night sky; harsher and colder but just as mesmerizing. He wouldn't mind having bangs, hair in his face wouldn't be as annoying and it would for sure have sharp two toned contrast. He'd prefer his clothing with a ton of straps, functional or not, he likes the way it clings tightly to his form.

Sun - His colors would shift more to be closer to burning embers almost magma. His hair more an unkempt mess, teased and tangled. He'd love the tight feel of a corset on his chest, though he'd prefer the loose hanging sleeves and lace fabrics elsewhere, a billowy tail skirt that could flicker in the wind like flames. He wouldn't like boots that cover too much of his legs though, preferring ones that are less restrictive.

Eclipse - His colors would lose a lot of their blue, looking more like a black hole in space than the mix of dawn and dusk. His hair would loose a good portion of it's waves. He'd prefer his long jackets and a waist corset, a side slit dress to help keep him covered but not feel restraining, thigh high boots that would fit like a glove.

Their stain glass wings would shift more to match Gothic style windows and less abstract celestial art. (I got too tired to finish their wings..)

sorry if you wanted Fae y/n; overall I felt their design would stay the same, though shifting the white/cream of their design and lily skirt into a blacks and a black lily.

[lafashionlsta]

(No Yan Sim Au)

Au by @quartztwst

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Liánhuā lives with her mother and younger brother. They both love her very much. Ever since her father passed she had to take his place as the head of the politics -her family is kinda based on Saikou corps (political stand) excepts her family adores her.

The reasoning for crossdressing is because people think her brother is the next head of the family and she just let them think that because she thinks it’ll be better (her brother is way to aloof to be the head and it if he is the head of the family) Her mother thought she was way too younger to be the head but didn’t pressure her into not being because if her daughter wants to then she’ll let her. also the reason why she’s poison resistant is because she developed it when she was very young since there was someone untrustworthy but her family couldn’t prove it. This is before her father died. If she anything would to happen to her. Her brother would find the killer no matter what it takes and her mother will spiral into a depression.

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

Lethal method for most of the rivals / canon

“I don't trust her. Don’t get me wrong I don’t want to assume she’s dangerous but something about her doesn’t seem right. Also she seems way too interested to be a one of Azul’s fan girls.”

Nonlethal

“Oh, Quartz? I seen her around but I haven’t talked to her since she always seems to be doing something and I don’t want to bother her!”

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul? “Azul? He’s always wanting to scam people and I have to get him out of it!!! IT’S ANNOYING!! Other than that we have been friends since childhood. He’s good at heart if it wasn’t for the things he’s been doing”

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

“Oh, Riddle? I sometimes help him if he has a lot of work to do in the student council. He should stop over working himself it’s not good for you. Other than that I admire him! He’s so hardworking!”

If you want your oc removed please let me know!

Oc by @jovieinramshackle “Jovelina? We sometimes hang out. She pretty nice! I just can’t seem to get why she likes Azul though.”

Oc by @boopshoops “Oh, Yuu Shi! She’s very funny and so cool! Please stop trying to black mail me. The gossip she spills is interesting. I wonder how she even gets it! What? A little gossip doesn’t hurt once in a while!”

If Yuu Shi dies

“Jocia…. I feel so bad for her… I hope she finds Yuu Shi’s killer without the lethal method…”

Oc by @h0neybane “ Evelyn is so nice! I wonder what she’s drawing in the sketchbook! although I don’t think it’s a good idea to sneak a peak in it. Her hands must hurt with all that drawing.”

“The twins? I hate how they’re in that business with Azul. Floyd scares me a little. DO NOT get me started on Jade.”

Updated:

"Malleus? I hang out with him sometimes due to people not wanting. They're missing out on a very good friend to be honest!"

"My thoughts on Trey? It's an honor to be friends with him! His baked goods are so delicious!"

"Che'nya, Che'nya.. even though we don't go to the same school he's fun to hang out with! However he does bring chaos sometimes.."

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Same age as Azul so she’s a 2nd year! 6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Get good grades, graduate and try to stop Azul from scamming people.

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

She has proof that she was no where near the crime scene since she has friends to back her up (mostly with her friends) and never really alone. -this will increase her suspicions and decrease her trust in Quartz and make it harder to befriend her.-

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Finds it suspicious that she has pockets in her skirt. Will appprenhend her if she sees a weapon.

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Liánhuā is usually with Azul making sure he’s not trying to scam someone. If she’s not with him she’s either in the Light music room with her club members or friends. She will have lunch with her friends and won’t be with Azul.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Her grades are pretty good. Doesn’t want to stress her mom out with bad grades

[chysgoda]

Equinox Service

A Desertwalkers Story

Rating: T for a tiny bit of language

—

You went to the Equinox Services. That’s just how it was if you were raised in the church of the Holy Mother and Father. That was certainly how it was when Bel had been growing up. So she was dressed up in her best skirt, shirt, and waistcoat as she made her way across Stonewood to the little church on the far side of town. There were more people than the church usually saw, most were like her, showing up for the holiest of days and then not much else.

Bel filed in with the rest and ended up in a seat two thirds of the way up from the door since she hadn’t left early enough to get a seat in the back where a quick and painless exit could be had. She considered the little church in comparison to the cathedrals she’d been in across the salt. She liked this one better on the whole. It was cozy, less grandiose for the sake of being grand. She also hadn’t heard of the intensive conversion work that the church usually pushed happening in Stonewood. At least not under this Vicarius. The former priest had come to some sort of ill defined end that generally meant someone had pushed their luck too far with the locals. So far the new Vicarius had not attempted to draw in a single convert.

“Miss Lahabrea, I did not expect to see you for this evening’s service,” Vicarius Themis stopped next the end of the pew she sat on. Bel wasn’t terribly surprised he knew her name. She’d been the only parrot in town for months, there were far more people who knew her name than those she knew the name of.

“Old habits die hard Vicarius,” Bel said honestly. There was something about this man that seemed familiar but she couldn’t place what. He didn’t look that much older than her, but he carried himself like someone much more experienced than what her age would have allowed for. This was going to bug her for days.

“Perhaps after tonight you will feel more comfortable here,” the Vicarius’s smile seemed genuine, and it seemed to reach his eyes, but there was something about him that made her hesitate to drop her guard. He continued, politely ignoring if any of Bel’s thoughts showed on her face, “Always know that you have sanctuary here Miss Lahabrea, no matter who your grandparents are.”

The priest was walking towards the pulpit at the front before a frown could even bend Bel’s lips. If he’d said ‘your family’ she wouldn’t have thought much of it. The Lahabrea family as a whole had had a reputation of being meddlesome and dramatic for generations even back to before they had crossed the salt and established themselves in Tural. Members of the family running away to remote regions was hardly new. Vicarius Themis had specifically called out her grandparents though. It made her uneasy.

Bel wrote off any connection to her grandmother Athena immediately. Not a single one of her associates would ever take the guise of a priest. Which left grandpa Hephaistos. That seemed more likely. It was easier to imagine that voice in grandpa’s office. Replace the white robes with a suit, navy blue and just poorly fitted enough to look off the rack. The imagining brought up a memory. She had been ten maybe? She’d wriggled away from her father and was running to her grandpa’s office and there had been a white haired man in a navy suit with gold buttons.

“It is done.”

“Excellent, Shall I send the usual payments to your Limsian account, Elidibus?”

Another half heard conversation between her parents echoed in her head as well.

“I don’t want your father’s pet spy and killer in my house, Ericthonios.”

“I know Idunn, I didn’t offer him a spot at the dinner table.”

So Elidibus was possibly Vicarius Themis. What was she going to do with this? Did it matter? It wasn’t something she was even sure of. It wasn’t practical to catch a train and ask her parents in the small town nestled in the shade of Tuliyollal. Assuming they were home to start with. She blinked when people began to shift and stand up. Bel blew out a breath, she could chew on if there was anything to do with this at home.

“You have good instincts Miss Lahabrea,” Vicarius Themis was standing next to her again. There was an amused tilt to his smile this time, “You should trust them and hopefully pay more attention to the actual service next time.”

Bel felt her cheeks burn like she’d been called out for bad behavior in school. “My apologies if I was disruptive Vicarius.”

“I think the prize for that went to the gentleman in the back snoring loud enough to wake the dead.” Vicarius Themis chuckled. “I do hope that you grace this hall again, before solstice Miss Lahabrea.”

Bel stood and gave the priest her best high society neutral smile, “Have the rest of a good evening Vicarius Themis.”

The white robed man stepped aside for her, but caught her elbow in a gentle grip, “I was serious about sanctuary should you find you need it.”

“I appreciate that.” Bel said tense, “I need to be getting home now.”

The priest let go of her arm and stepped back to go speak with someone waiting for his attention. Bel left quickly, unnerved and unhappy about the fact. She was well away from the church when she noticed a heaviness in one of her pockets that should not have been there. She reached in and pulled out a beautifully crafted Ul’dahn* knife in a tooled leather sheath. She stared at it and then turned back to stare at the church.

“What the fuck?”

*picture a Persian knife

[bhaalbaaby]

The Stillness Bends // Chapter 1

Title: Know Yourself and The Enemy (1854 words) Pairing: Shadowheart/Fem!Tav Warnings: Emetophobia, Flirtations, Flashbacks A/N: be gentle and thank you for my beta @bunnidarling 🥺 Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @razrogue @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator @rinmoon7

Read on AO3!

Penelope grimaces as they trudge through the mud, thudding and yelling not too far ahead of them. She's never met any goblin before all of this. Odd little creatures. Her first victims. She tries not to think about them too much. 

Her daggers have seen so much blood, there's no bloodlust, only grief. She hides it with a smile, not wanting to seem weak in front of her companions. Penelope is not a killer. Her daggers at home were only for threatening. Is she a seasoned killer now or a hero? What would her friends back in Baldur's Gate think? They wouldn't believe her. Hells, she barely believes any of this herself, the experience living in her bones.

She already feels inexperienced with combat and survival when she speaks to any of her companions. 

She stops in front of the bridge, the smell of piss, alcohol, and blood thick in the smoky air. Wyll can barely contain himself as he grimaces. "We should cut them down quickly and efficiently. The longer we stay, the more issues we may find." He's so confident. He should be the leader. 

Penelope turns to the rest of them. Shadowheart nods, "I must agree. Goblins aren't known for hospitality." "Wicked little creatures," Astarion adds. 

"Let's see what they know first. Volo mentioned something about the Absolute, and Nettie said Halsin came here searching about these tadpoles." Penelope reasons, trying to see if they can avoid more bloodshed. 

Astarion rolls his eyes. "I suppose we can snoop around. Find out more about these monsters in our heads." She flashes him a grateful smile. "I wonder what power they possess." Astarion continues with a glint in his red eyes.

Her smile fades. She doesn't want to find out. 

Getting past the Goblins at the gate is an easy feat. She feigns grief as she lies. "We were sent here by True Soul Edowin. Absolute rest his soul." His siblings were the first humans her blades claimed. 

"Another True Soul? The Drow will want to speak to you then." He then remarks on Penelope's body, making her shudder. Before, she would only think about ending any of those who crossed her. Now she can. No one but herself can stop her from fighting.

She can hardly blame the goblin for saying anything. She's ill-fitted for fighting, her armor bits and pieces from her dancer attire, repurposed for battle with Astarion's help. Her dark pink bralette is reinforced with some scale mail they got from Arron. Against Shadowheart and Wyll's suggestions, her midriff is still exposed because it didn't look right covered up. Her skirts remain the same, makeshift boots under them to protect her legs from any damage and the elements. She could always lie and say she's a dancer ready to entertain the leaders if need be. Her long fuchsia hair is rolled up in a bun resting on her neck, with flyaways, and small curtain bangs framing her delicate face.

The urge fades as they walk past the wooden gates. She would kill him later. Would she enjoy it? Possibly... She doesn't know. 

As the group approaches the Goblin camp, the tadpole wiggles as if awoken by something. She glances at Shadowheart, jaw tight as they continue. Wyll rubs his temple gently, trying not to cause any attention. Astarion’s expression is no less unnerving, his brow low. Penelope continues walking. At least it's not just her, she thinks to herself as they start to cross the bridge. 

The pain is piercing and gradual, forcing her on her knees. She hears the others struggle as well before silence and darkness cloaks her. Her heart races, pressure building in her head. Is this the end? The woman's voice draws her in, the tadpole stilling as if listening as well. Purple light emits in front of her, three black figures sprouting from them. Their features are hidden by the smoke and darkness, but that man, his manner, that smile. She's seen it before. Maybe in her dreams. Her concentration wanes as the voice booms. "Help My Chosen search for the Prism and you shall be worthy to be in my presence."Heat emanates from behind her as the artifact leaves Shadowheart's pack. The voice grows fainter as the artifact dwindles in the air, the power pulsating stronger than ever as it floats back to Shadowheart. 

Penelope sits back on her knees, left catching her breath as the pressure lifts. Making sense of what just happened would be as inexplicable as everything else. Shadowheart stares at the prism in awe. "What in the Hells is that exactly?" Penelope asks, her eyes darting between the artifact and Shadowheart's face. 

"I don't know. It saved our lives," Shadowheart says, shaking her head. Packing away the prism, her dangerous green eyes meet Penelope's. "I will keep it protected. I must do so. All I know is that it's important to get it back to Baldur's Gate, at any cost." 

"What's in Baldur's Gate?" Penelope asks, stepping closer. She can feel Shadowheart's hesitancy as she steps back. "I suppose I must tell you as we're traveling together..." She straightens, her shoulders squared. "I serve Shar. My cloister is in Baldur's Gate." 

Shar. Penelope knows little of the Goddess. She also knows the cloister exists, just not where. She lost a client to Lady Shar's practice in the past; the man barely remembered his name except that he came to Sharess' Caress sometimes. She pitied him and all of Shar’s followers. The same sorrow fills her now as she listens to Shadowheart. And such a pity. Shadowheart is such a pretty woman. The Lady of Loss isn't keen on her followers feeling any pleasure and Penelope has fleeting plans for the Cleric.

Wyll shakes his head as concern lines his face. "A Shar worshiper? Not my usual quarry, nor my usual ally." 

Penelope sighs, rubbing her head, at least the tadpole is silent. "Thank you for sharing, Shadowheart. At least we know something about whatever that is." She gestures to her pack as Shadowheart rolls her eyes. "This is out of pure necessity. Pure desperation, in fact."

"I'm sure... Keep it safe. Whatever it is, 'The Absolute' is searching for it." Penelope replies, suddenly tired. "Let's go meet these leaders." 

The stench grows stronger as they walk through drunk Goblins, Bugbears, and Orges. Penelope holds her breath as they reach the doors of the defiled Temple. 

"I don't think I can do this." Penelope whimpers, her uvula feeling thick in the back of her throat.

"What do you mean you can't do this?" Astarion asks, his tone annoyed. 

She turns to him, pale. "This smell doesn't bother you?" She asks in a hissed whisper, her stomach lurching. He rolls his eyes as Wyll steps closer, "We can come back later. I'm sure they'll drink themselves to death." She hopes he's right as they head to camp.

Penelope sits by the water at camp. Maybe a bath would clear her mind and calm her stomach. As she starts to undress, she hears footsteps in the sandy grovel. 

She keeps her top on as she turns to see Shadowheart. "I don't mean to intrude." She says, surprisingly shy. Her eyes avoid Penelope's direction. "I'm decent enough, luv," Penelope says with a light laugh as she walks over to Shadowheart. 

"I made you this. It's for nausea relief. Should help when we go through their stronghold." The bottle is murky brown and smells medicinal. 

"Thank you, Shadowheart."

The Cleric nods, still looking away. She's cute when she's playing coy, Penelope thinks as she steps closer, tilting Shadowheart's head towards her. "Are you alright? You seem a little distracted?" Penelope asks, her thumb brushing Shadowheart's cheek. The blacks of her eyes help the bright magenta pop more in the growing darkness, the heart pupils more prominent. 

"I-I'm fine." She doesn't pull away from Penelope's grasp.

 "Did you want to join me for my bath?" Penelope asks as innocently as she can. 

Shadowheart's breathing quickens, her eyes widening slightly before she laughs, stepping away. "No, we shouldn't. Um. Thank you for not being angry with me." She adds as well, keeping her head lowered. 

The urge to kiss her is overwhelming, but Penelope behaves herself. "What are you talking about?" She asks, tilting her head to the side. 

"For being a Shar worshiper." 

Penelope rolls her eyes. "None of that matters while we have The Absolute and Ceremorphosis to worry about." She tries her best to mimic Gale as she says the mind flayer transformation's official name, happy to see Shadowheart try to suppress her smile. 

"I guess you're right. I should leave you to your bath." 

"The offer to stay is still on the table," Penelope replies, playing with the ties of her dress. 

Shadowheart's cheeks tinge pink as she shakes her head. "Maybe another time." 

It's not a no. Penelope smiles softly as she turns around, "I'll be here when you change your mind." The dress loosens around her waist as she discards it, stepping into the water. She glances over her shoulder to see the half-elf gone.

Her bath is quiet in contrast to her mind, which thrashes with anxiety as she glides her fingers over her arms. Maybe they can do something else before returning to the goblins. She feels cowardly not wanting to venture further into the keep. They're not ready. She's not ready. She can barely strike without feeling remorse. She knows a few spells, but she feels so weak compared to Gale and Wyll. She is leading them to their doom. Sinking into the water, she ignores the feeling of mud under her toes as she wishes she could run away. 

Flashbacks are ice daggers in her chest as she remembers the forest enclosing her and her mother. "Keep going," her mother instructed as they ran. The thudding of horses echoed behind them: highwaymen. She squeezed her mother's hand as they sprinted. 

Penelope looks up at the sky and the stars above. The memory tries to resurface, the men shouting at them. “ Hellspawn !” They were so close to the city. Her mother stopped when they lost them, reaching into her pocket and handing the young Penelope the letter from her aunt and her mother's locket. 

"Nel, go to the city. If we get separated, find your aunt." 

Penelope sniffled, "I don't wanna go without you." 

Her mother wiped the stray tear. "My beautiful girl, I'll always be with you." 

She splashes her face with water, feeling a lump in her throat. Her mother is now a distant memory, and yet she can recall the scent of rosewater and thyme from their garden in Elturel. Her mother wouldn't want her to give up. 

She steels herself with that memory. She won’t break down in front of the others. She walks out of the water as the warm sunset covers the camp. She ignores how scratchy the old towel is as she picks it up. Tomorrow is another day. Hopefully, Shadowheart's medicine works. As another day passes with the tadpole in their brains, the more paranoid Penelope becomes.

[bluecoolr]

For Life Or Until Fault

Alt Timeline 2.0 - Darrell x Odile (Part 6)

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Main characters are slasher ocs. Implied murder. Mutual stalking involved.

Darrell belongs to me ♥︎

Odile belongs to @solmints-messyocdiary

Tagging my beloved @ajarofpickledtears who might get a kick out of this 🥹💕

Footsteps were muffled by the dusty, dull green carpet. Hardly anyone was at the library, and Darrell was sure that this might just be the norm. He waited for the kindly librarian to find the newspaper article he had asked for.

They huddled in front of a computer hooked up to a microfiche reader, sifting through page after page of old local newsprint. Finally, the librarian gave a satisfied "Ah!"

"Here we are," she told Darrell cheerfully, "I'll leave you to it, then."

She stepped aside to let Darrell slide into the chair in front of the monitor. "If you want to print anything," she said, "the computer's linked to the printer so just click this little picture here."

Darrell thanked her and began to read the article about the accident the town had simply dubbed as "The Fire". Not out of indifference, but of grim aversion. It was a ghastly thing, a tragic event that supposedly took the lives of a woman, a kindly priest, and his quaint charge.

Overturned candles, the authorities suspected, or some electrical problem. It could all have been easily avoided. Such a shame.

Perhaps by some printer's mishap, the photographs of Father Henrik and the woman were grainy. Parts of their faces were even blotted out completely.

Her, however. Her face was bright as day.

Odile, the description read, church custodian.

A timid beauty that drew the eyes to her spot on the page, where she presided like a saint over adverts and small town news.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a slender figure lingering by the bookshelves. It was the ring leader from his last visit, swaying in place with her baby braids and her school skirt perched too high on her waist. Darrell kept his eyes on the screen.

An article - no bigger than his palm - ruefully declared that yet another body had been found gutted and impaled on a pike. No doubt the work of the killer the press had dubbed "Tepeş" - The Impaler - after the infamous Wallachian prince. Curiously, all his victims had been men who had a history of violence.

The governor was quoted to say, "I would not trade this horror for less congested jails. There is a perverse gratification in this for this individual."

That had been years ago. As far as Darrell knew, the killer had never been caught.

He hit a button and headed for the printer.

Her picture was warm in his hands, and he trembled as he folded away the parts that didn't matter.

At the book checkout, the little minx strolled up beside him, bearing a racy vampire novel in her hands. She ventured for small talk. Darrell tried to make it evident that he wasn't interested. She was however, persistent. "Who's she?" she asked, eyeing the picture.

Darrell covetously snuck Odile between the pages of the book he'd picked. She watched him draw his lips into a tight line. "She isn't your girlfriend is she?" She chuckled. "If she were, she'd give you her picture herself. You wouldn't need to print it from the library."

"You like him? He's quite a character."

Darrell glanced at his book's cover. Vlad the Impaler: His Life and Exploits, the title read.

"I think he's awful," Darrell told her. "But I'm feeling quite nosy today. Might want to get all up in his business. No school today?"

"Done for the day."

"What year are you in?"

"11."

"That makes you… what 16?"

"Yep." The young girl flashed him a pretty smile, revealing a row of perfect white teeth.

"I'm 31," Darrell said pointedly.

"I don't mind."

Darrell nodded once. "But your mother will. Maybe I'll have a talk with her."

The color drained from her face and her round eyes grew even wider. She suddenly looked like she wanted to get as far away from Darrell as she could.

"Look." He sighed. "You seem like a nice girl, ok? Don't waste your time on grunts like me. I promise I'm not at all that interesting."

He thanked the librarian for her help and made his quiet way to the door.

~

Darrell had seen no sign of the girl since their unfortunate first meeting. He'd left her little trinkets, apologies after he'd upset her, on a mossy footstone near the fringes of the forest.

So far she'd taken none of his gifts, but he did feel eyes on him when he came bearing new flowers - the last of that prematurely cold season. He pretended, then, not to notice as she pretended not to watch.

Sometimes, when Isabelle begged, Darrell would let her run to the forest to play with the girl. They seemed to be familiar with each other, and he caught himself smiling when he heard her giggle from somewhere in the woods. When he did spy her from a distance, he would venture a smile.

At last, she'd left carnations on the footstone for him, and he gladly took them home. The splash of color livened up the sickly yellow parlor.

One day, he woke up and took the 2-kilometer walk to the town. He purchased a pack of steaks from the lone supermarket. While leaving it out on the footstone, he hoped she had a stove. Hot food would certainly help with the cold weather.

He sat down beside his new offering, tired from the trip, and decided to rest before heading back to start the day's rounds. Somewhere between debating whether to start with the western or the eastern half of the cemetery, he fell into a doze.

The rustle of plastic wrap woke him with a start. He let out a soft gasp and froze.

There she was; Her posture tense. Her eyes blown wide; Grasping a blood-red steak in one hand, a ribbon of flesh making a bridge between her lips and her knuckle.

She began to scuttle away on her knees, and Darrell begged her to wait. "Please." He raised his hands as if to say I mean you no harm.

"I'm sorry," he said, his heart beating like a drum. Her brow crumpled in confusion. "About last time."

The recollection of their first meeting obviously made her embarrassed, and her eyes immediately became misty.

"Are you hungry?... C-cold? I… I can - want - to help, if you let me."

She dropped the steak and gingerly ran her palms over her arms, hugging herself. She looked into his face, trying to read his expression for any danger, any ruse.

"It's alright, Odile."

She gasped under her breath, and her eyes shifted into focus - her attention falling full on the man in front of her. The world seemed to grow sharper around the edges and she could see. The verdant hills beyond, the blue-gray heavens above, and the freckles on his face. It was all so clear.

"W-what?" she asked, her voice hardly rising over a whisper, as if she'd been roused from a deep slumber.

"Odile," he repeated, "I-is that your name? Odile?"

She felt a tug at her heartstrings and at the corners of her lips. Yes! Of course, how could she have forgotten? She had a name!

"Y-yes." She nodded. "My name… my name is Odile."

The smile he gave her was relieved, radiant. "That's a lovely name."

She quickly brushed the back of her hand over her cheeks, hoping he didn't catch the tears that had fallen.

"Well, hello, Odile. I'm Darrell," he said, "I'm happy we've properly met.”

"Here." He took off his jacket and draped it around her bare shoulders. She tucked herself into it, delighting in his warmth that was still enmeshed in the fabric.

He asked a question and she started, blinking blearily. "Hmm?"

“Shall we head for the manor? Get out of the cold?"

She nodded, and began to slowly reach for his outstretched hand. She jerked back. Tears suddenly welling from her eyes.

She stumbled back, fingers clinging still to the lapels of Darrell's jacket. She wasn't ready to let go just yet, but she told him what had plagued her since that day in the forest, "I-I've been horrible." Her next words were caught between a sob. "I didn't… I didn't mean to! I-I'm sorry!

"Oh, no, princess." Darrell flew to her side, brushing her arms to soothe her. "No, no, no, no, no. Please don't cry. It's alright."

"I-It's just that I was hungry and there was nothing left. I wouldn't have if I could, but-"

"I know," Darrell assured her. He pulled her to his chest, hastily wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I did it. Oh, please," Odile wailed. "Don't hurt me."

Darrell took her face in his hands, wishing he could find the right thing to say to make her grief go away. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you," he told her. "I won't allow it. Okay? You poor girl. Shhh…"

"But they brought you here t-to find me… to make me pay.. f-for all my sins…"

Darrell stared into those olive green eyes, the pupils wide enough to look like chasms. Her nails dug crescents in his forearms, threatening to draw blood as she struggled to keep her breath even. He shook his head. "I swear, nothing will ever happen to you. I won't hurt you, and I won't give you to them."

"Please." Darrell could have winced at the way his voice cracked. "Come with me."

Odile was exhausted, and she was scared. But he offered warmth and kindness. Besides, Odile knew in her frail little heart, that there was no other place she wanted to be than with him.

[abhainnwhump]

Another continuation of the misgendered Ink prompt: Ink presents Nightmare with a flat gift box.

When Nightmare opens it, he finds a carefully crafted dress with holes in the shape of the phases of the moon with a sparkly sliver fabric underneath.

The curious doll announces that it will finish the necklace and tights later.

Upon arriving at his treasured toy's room, he finds it to be near under recognizable, all the pink that once covered the room was now sparce, did his aura send his precious princess spiraling into despair? Perhaps he took things too far, *this* was *not* what he had wanted.

"Oh! Hi Nightmare, is something wrong?" Ink queried without a second thought.

"I-I **demand** to know what happened to you? Do you need therapy?" Nightmare shouted with awe.

Ink retorted "I just really dislike clashing aesthetics and I know it would be too much to ask to change the entire castle just for my sake."

(I asked the other continuation prompt and the answer to what you are doing with you life is something wonderful.)

First Part || Second Part

(Content warnings: Lot of misgendering, manipulation, implied domestic abuse, mentions of mental health issues)

Nightmare recognized the box Ink gave him immediately. It was the same one he gave her with her first bra. It did interest him, Ink finally began to come around and accept the training and role as a doll. Nightmare pat her on the head as he opened the gift.

He pulled out a small dress, going just below the knee as Nightmare required Ink to wear, such as the pink dress he wore now. The dress was a deep black with a white bow at the neck. The skirt was what caught his interest though. Each layer had a careful cut and sewn path of the moon's phases. Silvery fabric glittered under the patterns to make them stand out.

"I see your sewing is going very well. Good work, my little doll. " Nightmare caressed her cheek, though he was confused on a few factors. "Did you make this for me? I'm not wearing a dress, it would throw my aesthetic off. You are the one meant for them."

"Thank you! And no, it's for me. I just wanted to show you." Ink nuzzled against him, surprisingly not complaining or putting up a fight as Nightmare expected. Her aura wasn't as happy as Nightmare wanted though. Not because he cared for Ink's happiness, but it would be easier to handle a doll that didn't think. "I'm going to make the tights and the necklace for it later. Bye bye!" Ink smiled and skipped off.

Nightmare's mouth twitched, eventually forming a smile. His training was finally seeming to work, he could tell from Ink's tone alone. It was much more chipper. He looked back at the dress. Something was certainly off.

The Guardian of Negativity walked down to Ink's room in the middle of the hall. He opened the door, blinking twice to make sure he was seeing the room right. Ink's room was always covered in pastel colors, namely pink, but now it was gone. Strokes of black paint covered up the pink walls and white furniture. The pink curtains, makeup, stuffed animals, and other decorations were shoved into boxes.

It reminded Nightmare of Dust and Killer when they first arrived. Both of them were in unstable mental conditions and damaged their rooms. Killer stabbed holes in the wall and Dust scribbled black and red on his wall, believing he was covering faces. Horror was unstable too, yes, but he was quieter. He would remain calm until one wrong sound or sight set him off. Was Ink going through the same phase? This was the last thing he wanted. Ink was meant to smile and look adorable. If Nightmare didn't catch her in the early stages, he would have to wait another few weeks or months before putting her into battle. Nightmare groaned and followed Ink's aura.

Nightmare followed the emotions into the living room, where Ink lay curled up on an armchair, drawing in her sketchbook. Ink looked up with a smile. Her tone didn't match her words. "Oh, hey Night! Are you angry? Is something wrong with the dress? I thought I got all the stitches right . . ."

Nightmare crossed his arms. "Don't play dumb, little doll. I demand to know why you destroyed your room. Is this an act of rebellion? Or are you asking for help? I could hire a therapist if that's what you need. I have connections to send you to one. I won't be able to help you if you don't talk to me." Nightmare put a softer tone to his voice, hoping that would lower Ink's guard and make her speak.

The artist shut the sketchbook and sighed. "Well, the whole castle has this gothic edge going on with it, including everyone's bedroom. Then there's my room which is this cutesy Lolita paradise, it doesn't mesh well. Even us standing next to each other looks weird, I'm cute, It'd be pretty rude for me to change everything about the castle because I want something, right?" Ink chuckled to herself, despite the guilty feeling in her aura.

Nightmare narrowed his eye, debating how to respond to the smug retort. His plan was always to scold and punish Ink, but he wanted to try a different route this time.

Nightmare crouched down in front of that chair, holding Ink's hands with one hand and using his other to manipulate her sensitive emotions. Ink flinched when he grabbed her. His fingers swayed, increasing Ink's guilt. "My angel, it's okay. You were just scared and you didn't know how to ask me for help. You can talk to me if you're feeling unsure or stressed, I'm here to listen. I'm your boyfriend, or did you forget?"

Ink looked up with the same regret in his eye lights, feeling horrible about the temper tantrum he pulled. "No, I didn't forget, but-"

"No 'but's'. You didn't talk to me, so you decided to destroy your room. I won't punish you for this though. Instead, I will order you to repaint your room. I know the aesthetic clashes, but I made an exception for you. This is your appearance on the battle field. You're not meant to look tough and fierce like the MTT. You're meant to be cute and trick opponents with said cuteness." Nightmare brushed Ink's face, just enough to keep her interested.

Ink thought about all of that. She looked own at her hands before hugging Nightmare. Nightmare stopped harnessing her guilt. "I'm sorry, you're right. Wrecking my room was stupid because you spent so much time on it . . . I'll ask for help next time. Promise."

"Good girl." Nightmare praised. He helped Ink stand up and Ink leaned weakly against him.

That was far too simple.

(Thank you, those are some very kind words. I suppose it is feeding a market with skeleton psychological whump.)