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malevoreenthusiast · 2 days ago

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Freddie's Feat pt. 2

Hey all! Here it is--the second installment of Freddie's Feat. I hope you enjoy, as I certainly enjoyed writing this! As always, please feel free to flood my inbox and dms with anything your heart desires. I love hearing feedback and am always open to new ideas. Enjoy!

In case you missed it, here is part 1^

“Dude,” Will gaped, “what the fuck happened?”

Freddie’s belly was actively wobbling about. He couldn’t feasibly deny what had happened, especially because Brayden’s discarded clothes were in one hand while his other was methodically rubbing the swell of his bulging belly. Freddie felt somewhat ashamed, but only because he had gotten caught. These were his friends, so surely if he explained what had happened, they would be understanding, right? The college sophomore dared a look at Alex, whose jaw was on the floor. Fred’s belly let out a low, cacophonous groan between the remaining three friends. They stared in awe.

“Well,” Freddie explained, trying to form a rational story that his friends would accept, “Brayden and I…wanted to see how much I could fit…in here?” Even to Freddie, the story sounded false. The truth—that Brayden forced himself down Freddie’s gullet—was even more absurd, and neither Will nor Alex would’ve believed him. Freddie continued, “Do you—BBBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP—mind if we go to the living room? I think I need to sit down.”

In a deafening silence, Freddie led the way towards Alex’s living room, never taking a hand off of his belly. Brayden, of all times, had chosen to stop speaking, letting Freddie deal with the consequences of his actions alone. Still, he could feel jerky movements inside of his stomach chamber. Presumably, Brayden was pleasuring himself to the feeling of being in Freddie’s gut, which was just perfect, as now Freddie had to deal with the fallout alone. Plopping in the center of the plush couch, Fred had to spread his legs far apart to make room for his belly. Alex and Will sat on either side of him, waiting for Freddie to explain himself further.

“Look, guys…” he started, unsure how to talk about the massive belly in the room, “Brayden kept on asking about my stomach: how much I could fit, if he tasted good, how good it felt swallowi—”

“Dude!” Will snipped, just below a yell. “You ate Brayden!”

“How did you even…” Alex trailed off, starting to move his hand onto Freddie’s bloated abdomen before Will slapped his hand away and shook his head like a disappointed parent.

Freddie prodded his Brayden-filled belly like it was a bomb about to explode, “Yeah… but look, he wanted it, too.” A massive gurgle escaped from Freddie’s gut.

“How can you say that?” Will spat, incredulous.

“Brayden was jacked, and I’m not small,” Freddie’s ego got in the way here, “I mean, I could probably take him in a fight, if I got in close and—”

“Dude!” Will yelled at his gluttonous friend.

“Right, sorry, not the point. Brayden was much bigger than me in height and muscle, Will. Do you really think I would’ve been able to—UUUURRRRRPPPPP—’scuse me. Do you think I would’ve been able to do this if he didn’t want it?”

Freddie’s belly growled, telling Freddie that his belly could handle even more. Alex looked awestruck, while Will was a mixture of disbelief and personally affronted. Freddie tried another method, as he wasn’t really getting anywhere with just explaining it with words. Wrapping his muscled arms around both of his friends’ shoulders, he brought them in close. The heat radiating from Freddie’s gut was alarming, yet it felt really comforting to all three guys, whether they liked to admit it or not. The air had turned colder because of Freddie’s insatiable stomach, but here, it seemed like the very thing that would warm all of them up.

“Here, feel him in there,” Freddie grabbed his friends’ hands in his and moved to place them on his belly. Will jerked away, standing up off the couch, but Alex let it happen.

“I’m not going to give you a belly rub after you ate Brayden,” Will spat out the last two words with vitriol.

Fred scoffed, feeling a little awkward. He did understand Will’s perspective, but also, couldn’t he just listen to reason? On the other hand, Alex started rubbing Freddie’s belly, leaning in to his big-bellied friend and intently fixated on Freddie’s stomach. Freddie looked down at Alex and hummed, rubbing his back in an intimate gesture between long-time friends. If Will wasn’t in his corner, he was glad he had Alex at least. Alex continued rubbing and doting on Fred’s gut, massaging it gently and listening to the loud noises it produced every few seconds. With each gurgle and churn, Alex snuggled up a little closer to Freddie, getting a better angle to rub his belly. Smitten with Alex, Freddie didn’t notice Will left the room and returned with a bedsheet and a determined look. Will cleared his throat, wrenching Freddie from sweetly rubbing Alex’s back and head whilst he massaged the behemoth of a belly beneath him.

“Right, you two are insane, but I’m not. We’re gonna fix this, okay?” Will knelt down before Freddie, getting eye level with his navel. “Hear that, Bray? We’re gonna get you out of there!” Will placed his flat palm on Fred’s belly, sending shivers of pleasure through the voracious college student.

“What are you doing…?” Freddie asked, feeling somewhat uncertain about Will’s approach to “getting Brayden out of there.”

“Well,” Will sounded annoyed, “you know he can’t stay in there.” Will glanced down at the wobbling mass attached to his best friend. “So, we’re gonna get him out, right Alex?”

Alex squeaked and nodded, standing up to show that he ultimately knew that Freddie was in the wrong, despite not being able to pry his gaze away from his gut.

“You’ll let us do this, right, Fred? You agree that Brayden needs to get let out, right?”

This felt like gentle parenting. Of course Freddie knew that Brayden shouldn’t stay in his belly…but, it felt really nice to have his muscular body massaging him from the inside. Hesitating for a moment, Freddie gave in, “Yes, Will. You’re… right. Okay.” His response sounded far too robotic to be convincing, and he himself wasn’t convinced about letting Brayden go. His belly, for the first time in so long, felt full and satiated. Why couldn’t he enjoy this for just a little while longer? Freddie, saddened by their soon-to-be separation, rubbed his belly fondly and patted his stomach where he thought Brayden’s head would be. Then, the thought hit him, “Wait, how are we going to get him out?”

Will answered, matter of factly, “Easy, the same way he went in.” Will stripped his shirt, revealing his own chiseled torso. While not as toned and jacked as Brayden, Will had been hitting the gym alongside Freddie, and he managed to build up a nice amount of bulk over the years. Why exactly he needed to take his shirt off, Freddie was unsure, but he explained his plan. He took a deep breath, as if to say “why am I friends with these lunatics,” but he spoke with a cool head, “Alright, we’re gonna tie this bed sheet around my waist and Alex will hold on to it for dear life. Freddie, do I have your word you won’t…do the same thing to me that you did to Brayden?”

Freddie was unfailingly loyal, and he would never betray a friend. In essence, that was how he swallowed Brayden in the first place—he was just fulfilling Brayden’s wishes to be in his belly. To that end, he responded, “You do.”

Will still knew Freddie like the back of his hand, so he truly wasn’t worried about Freddie’s gluttony getting in the way. Plus, with his promise, Will’s determination was cemented into fruition. “Good, what we’re gonna do is have Freddie…take me in…then I’m gonna hold on tight to Brayden. You two will pull the both of us out together, understand?”

The two nodded in unison, giving way to their group-leader. Freddie’s stomach growled, which he silently cursed for being excited to have Will down his throat. Now that he knew he could swallow someone as big as Brayden, he wanted to test the waters more. Still, he made a promise, and he intended to keep it. The nagging thought plagued him, however: what about what Brayden wanted? The reality, something Will and seemingly Alex refused to believe, was that Brayden wanted to be swallowed up by Freddie. Regardless, the plan was almost in motion. Like a high-stakes bank heist, Freddie and Will and Alex all steeled themselves for what was to come.

“I can’t believe you, man. How did you even…” Will sighed and shook his head before tying the final knot around his waist. He awkwardly approached Freddie, unsure of how to begin this strangely erotic process. He participated earlier in the banter about Freddie’s belly, but he never imagined it would get this…peculiar. Turning back to Alex, the two exchanged a look, regarding each other about their ravenous friend and the trouble he’s caused. Alex’s knuckles whitened around the bed sheet, and Freddie started feeling guilty only because of the gravity Will was treating this situation with. With a stern look, Will demanded of his big-bellied friend, “Don’t swallow. Let me do the moving, okay? I swear, Freddie, if you gulp me down like Brayden,” he dared a look at Freddie’s wobbling gut, “...just, don’t.”

Freddie nodded profusely, obeying without hesitation. Despite that, his belly growled. “Do I open wide, or…”

“Don’t make it weird, bro.”

Freddie didn’t know how to make this situation any less odd, but he opened his maw once again that night, ready to take Will into his stomach. Will jumped up and down a few times and shook himself out, as if he was preparing for a sporting event. Freddie just sat there, wrapping his hands around the obscene dome of his gut. After several long, tense moments, Will approached Freddie, eyes narrowed. Freddie tried to relax, spreading his legs out and resting his arms on the back of the couch. He figured having his arms away from Will would make it harder for him to want to take control and start pushing Will deeper down his velvety gullet. However, in Will’s perspective, he only saw Freddie getting ready for another taste of friend. He shook it off. This was Freddie—one of his best friends—and Freddie would never break a promise.

Will leaned down and put a finger in Freddie’s open, awaiting, and salivating mouth. The group leader shuddered like a withering plant. The hot, slimy texture from his friend’s tongue wrapped around his finger like a snake enveloping its prey. Fred stared deep into Will’s hazel eyes, waiting in anxious anticipation for another taste of his friend. His leg started bouncing in an attempt to stop himself from swallowing more of his friend down his throat. Every impulse in Freddie’s body was screaming for him to add Will to the bulge in his belly—to reunite him and Brayden. But, he resisted. He made a promise, and he was going to keep it.

After what felt like years, Will pushed his other hand into Fred’s mouth and began to dive deeper into the hot, wet confines of Freddie’s throat. It smelled rancid: a half digested mixture of the sushi Freddie devoured earlier and Brayden’s cologne burned the nostrils like a chemical accident. Freddie eagerly accepted Will’s arms down his throat, feeling the familliar bulge in his diaphragm that Brayden made in his similar descent. With an iron will, Freddie didn’t swallow, almost choking himself just to appease Will’s request. His friend was clearly uncomfortable as his head and shoulders slid into Fred’s unhinged gullet, but he was doing this for Brayden. Freddie looked down at Alex, who was still eyeing his gut with a trance-like stare. Alex was so encapsulated by watching Freddie open up wide enough for Will to fit inside that he began to lose his grip on the bed sheet that tethered the group leader to the outside world. Then, an unfortunate series of events took place.

Freddie moaned, trying to get Alex’s attention. He pointed to the bedsheet loose in Alex’s hands, but in doing so, Freddie’s moan turned into a cough, then a gag, then a deep, guttural, slow swallow. The two boys heard Will yelling from inside. Freddie had done the one thing Will had asked him not to. Freddie could feel Will’s head and arms enter his stomach chamber with a wet, slimy squelch. Freddie bucked his hips, fraught with desperation to fit the rest of his friend down his gullet. Rivers of drool pooled out of Fred’s mouth, lubricating his friend and dropping onto the couch with loud, rhythmic plopping noises. To try and quell his urges, Freddie thrummed his belly roughly, hoping that Brayden alone would satiate his desires. Unfortunately, his friend seemed to have other plans that would make that difficult.

Deep breaths through the nose eventually let Freddie calm down and excruciatingly, painfully, finally let him resist the overbearing urge to belly the rest of Will. Nodding his head at Alex, Freddie patted his monstrous gut, telling Will and Brayden that it was okay to come up. They waited for a moment, then two, then for about thirty seconds, nothing happened. Freddie’s two friends inside his digestive tract seemed to be arguing about something. Faint, muffled voices could be heard that carried the tone of urgency and intensity. Then, all of a sudden, Will was yanked deeper into Freddie’s throat. Eyes wide, Freddie looked at Alex bewildered. Freddie didn’t swallow, and Will certainly didn’t want to go any deeper into his friend’s belly, so what was going on? Another yank pulled Will’s thighs down Fred’s drooling maw, happily accepting more food whether Freddie’s mind wanted it or not. The two outside started panicking, not knowing how Will was getting pulled deeper.

“What the hell do I do?” Alex practically shrieked, watching Will get pulled deeper into Freddie, ballooning out his gut even more.

Freddie flew his arms out to the side in an “I don’t know” gesture. Feeling Will started kicking his legs in a frenetic passion, he signaling to both guys to pull him out. Through all the shock and confusion, both guys took a hold of Will by the legs, getting ready to wrench him out. They pulled and pulled to no avail. Something was keeping Will stuck inside Freddie’s throat, pulling him deeper…

“Come on, Will, just give in!” Brayden yanked Will’s slippery torso deeper into Freddie’s stomach chamber. He had been quietly pleasuring himself since arriving in the pit of Fred’s belly, listening intently to the commotion going on outside. Will’s plan was to excavate him from Fred’s belly, but he knew that this was exactly where he was meant to be. He did force-feed himself to Freddie, after all, so he was here purely because he wanted to be in here. Will didn’t seem to grasp that. What’s worse, he didn’t understand like Brayden did how amazing it was to be inside of Freddie’s gut. So, in an attempt to get Freddie’s belly stretched even further, and to allow Brayden to stay inside the hot, wet, gurgly confines of his friend’s gut, Brayden used his overt strength to pull Will in alongside him.

“Let go of me man! Are you insane?” Will wriggled from Brayden’s grasp only to be clung onto again. Will’s psychopath of a friend was trying to get them both stuck in Freddie’s belly, even though Will was trying to rescue Brayden.

Slippery as it was, Brayden was by far the strongest and largest in the friend group. Will had no purchase to cling to, and Freddie and Alex on the outside couldn’t contest Brayden's strength and devotion to Freddie’s gut at once. Grasping Will’s moist skin by the armpits, Brayden tugged hard, feeling something come loose. With a great strain, Brayden’s constant back days came in great use as he pulled Will all the way inside Freddie’s stomach chamber, feeling the cramped confines of Fred’s belly expand two-fold to fit in two of his best friends now as opposed to the one.

“There you go,” Brayden panted, “see how nice it is in here? Come on bro, admit it, you know you want to…” Brayden rubbed over his friend's naked torso and legs, covering him with Freddie’s stomach juices. In here, the noise was deafening. Their glutton of a friend’s belly truly never knew a limit, seeing as how Fred’s belly easily contained both Brayden and Will now. His shorts had inexplicably excused themselves from Will’s legs, leaving him completely naked alongside Brayden. Will hated that his body was accepting this, as his cock was rock hard alongside his other belly-filler that he used to call a friend. Very proud of himself, Brayden nudged the stomach walls of his friend, signaling to the young predator that he had fulfilled his belly even more.

Outside, a shocked silence filled the room, broken up by Freddie’s belly, which was a harbinger for stomach gurgles and groans. Freddie smacked his lips and limply played with the bedsheet that was once anchoring Will to the outside and was now attached to nothing. With an immense amount of guilt, his primary thought was that he wished he had gotten to savor Will a bit more before feeling him grow his belly out twice as big. He patted his disproportionately rounded gut and looked up to Alex.

“So, uh…” Freddie patted his belly, “what now?”

A huge burp erupted from Fred’s mouth, caused by the fighting that seemed to be happening inside his belly. As a consequence, Will’s gym shorts came flying out of Freddie’s mouth and slapped Alex directly in the face. The saliva-covered fabric seemed to be all that was left of their friend, if you discounted the titanic belly Freddie now sported and rubbed over possessively. Looking down, Freddie saw the bulges of Brayden’s hands, and he began to piece together what had happened.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP — BBBBBBBWWWWAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPP — BBBBUUURRRRPPPPP – “Fuck!”

“I think, uhh,” Freddie rubbed his chin, unsure how to say this in a way that sounded digestible, “I think that Brayden pulled Will down into my belly. I mean…You saw me. I didn’t swallow him once. I kept my promise, and yet, he’s…” Freddie trailed off and looked down at the squirming bulges that comprised his stretched abdomen.

“Huh… Will’s in there, too.” Alex spoke like he was hypnotized. Without warning, he kneeled down and began rubbing the crest of Freddie’s belly with a sensual spark of desire. Eye to eye with Freddie’s navel, Alex gave his friend’s belly button a light kiss.

Exasperated, Freddie belched and put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his stomach. Now he had two friends in here, and it felt so, so good. But, Will definitely wasn’t happy in there, and Alex wasn’t going to be of any help getting him out. Brayden couldn’t be more overjoyed, having added not only himself but Will in there, too. Leaning back, Freddie took a look at his engorged stomach with a little bit of awe. As ashamed he was to admit it, he was really proud of how he could fit two whole guys in there at once. The curve, the spherical shape, the noises his gut made as it sloshes around his food—Freddie was pretty much in heaven. Plus, Alex rubbing his belly, hypnotically fixated on his aptitude for swallowing his friends whole, which really helped make the college student feel great.

Inside, the belly-captives were essentially oil-wrestling, with Brayden favored as the clear victor. Freddie’s jam-packed gut kneaded them together, constantly rubbing cocks in the midst of their violence.

“Fuck you!” Will panted, finding difficulty in finding oxygen within the moist, squishy belly. His cock was at full mast, constantly getting stimulated by the wet, enveloping organ that contained him as well as Brayden’s brash movements.

“We belong in here, bro! Don’t you like how it feels?” Brayden pushed Will to the bottom of the belly, soaking his body in the mush that Freddie devoured at dinner. Pinning Will’s wrists next to his head, Brayden slowly lowered his torso to sit on Will, letting his wet, hard cock slide up into Brayden’s lubricated hole. Both boys moaned in unison, quickly shifting the vibe inside Freddie’s belly. What once was a sweaty mess of hatred and violence quickly turned into a sloppy, sweltering fuck session. Both guys dropped their hands and immediately clung to the other, kissing each other with so much passion that any romance movie would be jealous. The soft, wet folds of Freddie’s belly really did a number on both guys’ sex drive. Brayden began bouncing on Will’s leaking cock, whilst Will groped Brayden’s pecs for dear life as he was ridden within an inch of his life.

“Fuck, me, you take that cock so well,” Will breathed, completely forgetting how angry he was at the meathead.

“Yeah, you like that, Will? You like how your big cock feels in my ass?” Brayden spat, cupping Will’s head and quickening his pace, grinding his bubble butt harder onto his friend. Will’s thick meat slid easily in and out of Brayden’s plump cheeks, wet slapping sounds accompanying each bounce on his cock. On the outside, this sloppy sex was stirring up a great deal of gas for Freddie.

BBBBUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP — BBBBBBWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

“Ugh, what the hell are they doing in there?” Freddie touched his belly delicately as if it were about to explode. After a prolonged lack of movement, his gut started shifting back and forth in a rhythmic kind of motion. He seriously didn’t know what the guys were up to, but it really made his belly feel good with all of the movement inside.

BBBUUUURRRRPPPPP UUURRPPP

“Jesus, they’re really moving around in there,” Alex looked up for the first time in a long while. His own aching cock was visible through his shorts, yet Freddie tried not to pay attention to his friend’s throbbing member.

This night couldn’t have been more strange, so Freddie decided to throw the towel in and go crazy with his ambitions. He had already swallowed two thirds of his friend group. He might as well finish the last guy off. His belly still had room for more, and he knew that Alex would taste delicious. Freddie, ever rubbing his belly, casually spoke, “So how do you want to go down?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah. So how do you want to go down? Feet or head first?” Freddie seemed transfixed on a spot on his stomach as he rubbed it without making eye contact. He belched out the side of his mouth, a casual display of his immense greed.

“Freddie…no…” Alex wanted to back away, but Freddie quickly seized him by the wrist. His stomach made a cacophonous sloshing sound with the other guys inside.

“Don’t worry, bro. It’ll be fine. Just tell me how you wanna — BBBBUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPP — go in.” Freddie’s casual tone for speaking about swallowing up his last friend was chilling. For the first time this night, Freddie was taking charge of the situation and doing exactly what he wanted to do. No more meals would shove themselves down his gullet; he was gonna gulp down someone for himself. And, as it happens, Alex was going to be that someone. “Which way will it be?”

Alex was tugged down onto the couch to meet Freddie eye-to-eye. He couldn’t help but stare further at his friend’s massive belly that held two of his friends within it. Gulping nervously, he suddenly felt like he was trapped in this situation. Will wasn’t here to save him. In fact, Will had also fallen victim to Fred’s belly. Brayden wasn’t here, either, to try and knock some sense into the predator. Brayden also ended up inside Freddie’s hungry tummy. These thoughts sent Alex reeling. How did Freddie do this? How could he do this? Why was he so casual about gulping down his entire friend group that he's been with for years? As he pondered this question, Freddie gave up on waiting for an answer. He clicked his tongue, chuckled, and licked Alex’s neck, tasting his final meal for the night.

“God, you taste so fucking delicious. Just as meaty as Brayden, and almost as salty as Will. You’re gonna feel so good going down, Alex.”

“F-Freddie, please,” Alex whimpered, cowering at his friend’s curious tongue. This sudden change in attitude was like a piercing bullet to the heart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Shhh,” Freddie whispered, “hear that…?” The predator’s stomach let out a long, deep rumble, sounding like a brutal threat to anyone that wasn’t Freddie. “I'm still hungry for more, Alex. You know what that means,” Fred licked hip lips.

“No. No, please! Feddie, I’m your friend, I’m not—”

Alex was cut off by Freddie wolfing down his head, forcing him in like he was meant to be dessert for his hungry friend. The salacious, formidable predator bunched up Alex’s shoulders and pulled his delectable body deeper into his throat. Inside his belly, the other two were still brutally fucking, so poor Alex would be having the shock of his life once he was swallowed down further. Freddie, in a euphoric fervor, did not seem to care about Alex��s well-being at the moment. His only concern was filling up his avaricious belly, which he was beginning to love and cherish more and more now. Alex’s flavor was a symphonic mix of his other two friends, which cascaded down his throat and kindled a warm, pure glow of pleasure in the pit of Freddie’s being. He moaned out, loudly signalling to Alex how good he tasted.

Freddie’s meal began struggling desperately for escape; however, he would find no solace besides the warm-wet embrace of Fred’s esophagus and digestive tract. Still, Alex began kicking his legs out, shouting for help. Unfortunately, all he looked like was a fish out of water, and Freddie was bringing him back into the sea. His severe gluttony propelled him to swallow more of Alex down, completely consuming his torso in a rapacious swallow. His throat muscles contracted against his friend, tightening then opening wide to allow his journey deeper into the yearning belly. For the third time that night, Freddie’s esophageal sphincter opened up, welcoming Alex’s head into his chamber, rife with activity.

Freddie pondered for a moment if what he was doing was right, but his head was far too clouded with how big his belly was going to be once Alex was safely tucked inside. A man’s gotta eat, right? Sometimes, if you’re hungry enough, you just need to make do with what’s around you, right? Freddie patted himself on the back for being resourceful and tilted his head back, letting Alex’s lower half slowly slide down into his belly. Like this, Fred could feel his stomach actively bloating out, which felt like a constant stimulation of satisfying pleasure, and he could also watch as Alex’s legs disappeared behind his plush lips, which was equally as fulfilling. A low, wet, sliding noise sounded as his tortured friend thrashed wildly but ultimately slipped deeper and deeper into his friend’s throat. In his mouth, a pool of saliva had formed, making Alex nice and wet to facilitate his travels. If Freddie could be honest with himself, this was amazing. It felt so good to be able to swallow his friends whole, and as time passed, he was convincing himself that this is where they belonged—inside his belly, gurgling and churning away.

After an agonizingly long time for Alex but a tragically brief time for Freddie, gravity had done its job. Alex was safely past Freddie’s open maw. He gulped one time, sending Alex’s feet barrelling into his rapidly growing gut. When his gargantuan stomach rounded out, he felt relieved to have finally finished his dinner for the night. He leaned down and kissed his squirming belly: a monument to his insatiable hunger.

“Fuck me, you guys were good,” he moaned. “Just look at this thing! You made me huge, but it feels so good– UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP–settle down in there, okay you guys?”

Fred jostled his belly, hearing the roaring sloshes and feeling the frenetic movements inside of it. If he could reach his aching cock around his behemoth of a belly, he would have ejaculated twenty times by now. Who knew the process of swallowing your entire friend group whole could be so erotic? With a herculean effort, Freddie used the momentum of his belly to stand himself up and begin something of a penguin waddle over to Alex’s bedroom where he would sleep these guys off for the night. His hands were magnetic to his belly—Freddie was addicted to feeling his stomach gurgle around his friends, coating them in his juices and massaging their meat until they were tender. He had to pause in the hallway to take deep breaths because walking around while carrying your best friends in your stomach was tiring work. Plus, his friends were still definitely moving around in there. It seemed like they didn’t want to give up just yet.

As Fred finally made his way to Alex’s soft, queen-sized bed, Brayden, Will, and now Alex were all about to reach their climax. Somehow, Will had maneuvered Brayden to the middle of Freddie’s gut so he could fuck his mouth. As he was doing so, Alex spilled into the stomach chamber with them, and Brayden taunted Alex with his perky bubble butt. Alex figured he might as well because there was nothing else to do, so he joined in on the fun, ravaging Brayden’s used hole with his rock-hard dick. The boys, now engaged in a passionate threesome, were kicking up a lot of gas for poor Freddie, who was belching up a storm on the outside. The air gradually became more stale as time passed. To Freddie, this was just a food coma after a big meal, but to his friends, this was their last night to truly live, so they had to make everything worth it. As Alex and Will Eiffel Towered Brayden, they kissed deeply whilst pumping in and out of their muscular friend. The oxygen supply was slowly running out, so their movements quickened, knowing they had little time left. With a rough pounding, all three guys came gallons at the same time, letting their cum paint Brayden and the stomach walls that kneaded them like dough.

“Fuck..!” Brayden, exclaimed, short of breath. “I love you guys…Fuck you Brayden,” he said, kissing him angrily on the lips.

“You were the best friends I’ve ever had,” Alex rubbed his cock between Brayden’s ass cheeks and collapsed onto his back.

“I’m glad we’re all here to experience this together,” Brayden moaned, grinding against Alex and kissing Will deeply.

With that, the sweltering confines of Freddie’s belly took control, siphoning any oxygen the boys might’ve had left over and replacing it with digestive enzymes and stomach juices. It was unfortunate, but it’s not like anyone there didn’t know what happens inside a hungry belly. In a hazy fervor of passion and lust, the guys all fell asleep on top of each other, letting Freddie’s belly get to work on them.

Freddie, still dozing, woke up in the middle of the night to rub his belly and feel his friends stop moving. He groaned in dissatisfaction, as their movements felt really good, but he rubbed his belly once more and smiled, cooing softly to them, “You guys tasted so good. Thank you for filling me up, bros.”

The morning sun-rays filtered through Alex’s blinds like beams of heaven themselves illuminating Alex’s bedroom. Brayden woke up first, just in time to see Freddie entering the room, four coffee mugs in hand. He himself looked like an angel with his short, curly hair, striped boxers, and muscular frame. And, curiously, his flat six-pack had returned to its shredded state. His predatory friend beamed at Brayden lovingly before handing him a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Freddie fluttered his eyelashes in a mock-girlfriend type of manner to Brayden, who looked down at his coffee with a confused expression, like it was drugged.

“What…? But didn’t you…?” Brayden trailed off, still feeling somewhat sticky. He was naked, which was bizarre, given that Freddie didn’t seem off-put by it in the slightest. Looking over, he saw two other naked, sleeping figures—Alex and Will—cuddled up against each other tightly and snoring softly. They looked cute together, but that didn’t shake the confusion Brayden felt stirring in him.

“I did,” Freddie admitted, nodding his head and taking a sip of coffee casually. “But, Bray, you know me enough by now, don’t you? You knew you guys were never actually on the menu…”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Brayden slumped, somewhat disappointed, and Freddie climbed into bed next to his larger friend to comfort him about not being digested.

Rubbing Bray’s back in slow circles, Freddie squeezed next to him and whispered, “And, plus, I want…” Freddie murmured something into his coffee mug that Brayden couldn’t hear.

“Huh?”

“I wanted…”

“Freddie, speak up bro.”

“I want to do it again with you guys. Here, listen,” Freddie’s stomach was growling with a deep primal hunger. Last night had unlocked something in him that needed satisfying.

Brayden looked at Freddie in his charming, handsome face, taking a moment to analyze and scan his friend’s handsome features. The, Brayden leaned in slowly and kissed Freddie passionately on the lips. Freddie was taken aback, but he put his coffee mug on a bedside table and kissed Bradyen back with equal amounts of lust.

The two boys went on like that for quite some time, fooling around with each other and listening to Freddie’s stomach growl. Eventually, Will woke up to the sight of Brayden’s hand wrapped around Freddie’s massive cock and he jumped back in shock. The two laughed and decided to wake Alex up to explain everything that had happened last night. After a great deal of apologizing from Freddie for making it seem like they were his food (Surprisingly, Will forgave him almost instantly, but Alex needed more convincing), and after a lot of…previously unsurfaced feelings were hashed out in the folds of Freddie’s belly, the guys all took turns washing up in Alex’s shower, making sure Freddie’s digestive juices weren’t anywhere on their person, they all got together to walk down to a breakfast place down the street (Freddie’s idea, of course).

Brayden grabbed Freddie by the elbow before he went out the door to follow Will and Alex, who were already down onto the street. Sheepishly, Brayden asked, “Hey, Freddie?”

“Yeah Bray?”

“One day, will you let me stay in there,” Brayden nodded down at Fred’s stomach. “Like, permanently.”

Freddie smiled warmly, kissing Brayden on the cheek, “Sure thing, bro. One day. But for now, let’s just go get breakfast.” Freddie’s belly rumbled softly, telling them it was time to go.

In elation, Brayden picked up Freddie with ease, spinning him around several times and kissing Freddie everywhere he could think of, stopping for a moment at his abdomen, giving a slower, more meaningful kiss there, which earned him a deep growl. Freddie blushed a crimson scarlet, barely able to hold himself back from swallowing his friend right then and there. “Alright, Bray, you’ve had your fun. Let’s go catch up with the others. I’m starving.”

#male pred #male prey #male vore #same size vore #gay vore #m/m vore #my writing

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kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 1 day ago

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Shadowy Heart~

For those of you who were curious about Shadow Kirby's deal and what made him agree to it, it was the promise that he could start anew somewhere else and forget about who he was. No longer able to feel anything...

Now let's go over Kirby & Shadow Kirby. While they both get along fine, there's one key element that stops them from being "friends." A key thing that Dark Meta Knight and Shadow Kirby have in common is envy for their real-world counterpart.

While Kirby does have the weighing responsibilities of guarding Dreamland... He has an incredible support system. Powerful & great friends he can rely on... and most of all a great father figure he can lean on... While Shadow does not...

I know I'm still writing "The Knightmare's End" (sorry guys, it's still a WIP some world-building & plot points I gotta chisel out)After the events of the story (and things do get really messy), Kirby and Meta Knight growing together, addressing each other's issues, healing on another... forging such a deep bond father-son bond with each other.

Especially seeing that his Meta Knight would do anything for him.

During the events "Amazing Mirror/Triple Deluxe" (those plotlines are fused). Meta Knight being trapped in the Mirror Dimension. When he sees SK, he is exposed to a different Meta Knight and was surprised by how starkly different they were.

This Meta Knight was panicked by the fact of being separated from his Kirby, and he was missing. (Kirby House was already missing due to the Dream Stalk... and was planning to look up the Dreamstalk but was confronted by Dark first... he wasn't aware that the Dimension Mirror was right near where Kirby was.)

This is only driven further (when Kirby saves Dedede during his fight with Taranza, to be precise). Meta Knight manages to trick him back into the Mirror world! And this happens... And epic butt-kicking ensues... Oh yeah, fun fact: after this, MK calls Dark Meta Knight Discount Meta Knight.

While Dark Meta Knight was planning to abandon the Mirror World and him! This only deepened when Dark Meta Knight decided to ignore Shadow for helping Kirby & Meta Knight.

Oh, poor Shadow, if only he had someone to turn to. Oh, Goodie Morgans here. (While Planet Robots's happening... Shadow meeting her during his hour of need.) Very quickly to gain his trust, and when the time was right

Shadow's plot line is (actually) a revival of the Gawain HC I cooked last year. Which I loved but had no idea where to put it, that is, until I started writing Shadow Kirby's character. And realised they hit the same character elements as each other (Gawain & Shadow).

(Specifics of the deal I will reveal later due to spoilers; But, his deal very much hits the same beats as his Gawians deal. )

Loneliness and neglect cause both to make a bad decision. Allowing Morgan to play on their insecurities...Shadow very much becoming Morgan's pawn... believing that she created him (well technically she did) completely forgetting that he was ever a part of the Mirror World. And very much uses the constructs of Shadow Kirby to plan on how to take out the real Kirby. And the very first thing Morgan orders Shadow Kirby to do... destroy Shadow Dedede.

Yeah, I foreshadowed it in this last post, but Shadow Dedede is dead as a doornail... Let's hope no one else dies by Shadow's hands; that'd be awful~ And one more thing he does this in front of Dark. >:D

Well, it finally revealed that plot element. I'm trying to drop as much lore until I can make the announcement (I know I've been alluding to it since January. There's one more piece of lore that I AM DYING TO SHARE WITH YOU! I promise I saved the best for last; almost ready!

Hope you guys stick around to see what happens next. I hope you all have a wonderful day.

#kbasw #kirby #metadad #shadow kirby #meta knight #dark meta knight #dame morgan #kirby oc #kirby and the amazing mirror #kirby anime #kirby right back at ya

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riboism · 21 hours ago

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haunted ═╬ act IV: the cat

♱ content tags: centuries old vampire! seonghwa x fem reader, vampire au, gothic romance, gothic horror, story takes place circa early 1900s, reincarnation, smut, angst, forbidden love, slowburn, lots of yearning, no happy ending, blood, satanism, animal cruelty, nosferatu/bram stroker’s dracula/edward scissorhands vibes

♱ a/n: sorry for being late with an update (depression sucks lol). I’ll try to be more consistent with the remaining parts. as always, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.

♱ wordcount: 2.7k

↳ series masterlist

The rest of the morning felt off, as if your reality had begun to blur at the edges. Every time you wandered through the estate’s dimly lit hallways, the creak of the old wooden floors sent a strange sense of familiarity crawling up your spine. It was maddening, like the walls were whispering to you in a language you almost understood, their voices just out of reach.

You couldn't take it anymore. The strangeness of the Count, the mysteriousness of the estate, and the dreams—God, the dreams—had become too much to ignore. There had to be answers somewhere. Without another thought, you grabbed your winter coat and strode down to town, determined to find them.

By the time you reached the bank, you were breathless from the steep steps leading up to its grand entrance. Steadying yourself, you approached the front desk, where the same bank teller from before sat, her glasses perched low on her nose as she sorted through a stack of papers.

"Is Mr. Kang available?" you asked, still catching your breath.

She didn’t bother looking up. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, no, but—"

"Mr. Kang is only available by appointment," she cut in flatly, flipping another page.

You clenched your fists, willing yourself to remain composed. "Please, it’s urgent. I don’t mind waiting."

This time, she lifted her gaze just enough to regard you with practiced indifference. "I’m sorry, but unless you have an appointment, I cannot help you."

Frustration simmered in your chest as you turned on your heel, ready to leave in defeat, until a familiar voice called out behind you.

"Miss Y/L/N!"

Relief flooded through you as you turned to see Mr. Kang hurrying toward you, his ever-present smile wide and warm. "I knew that was you! What brings you here?"

His friendliness was like a breath of fresh air. In a town like this, it felt good to have even the semblance of a friend. You smiled, grateful. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kang. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something."

"Of course," he said smoothly, placing a guiding hand on the small of your back as he led you toward his office. "Anything for a friend of a friend. I have a few minutes before my next meeting."

You cast a smug glance at the receptionist as you passed, satisfied with your small victory.

Once settled in Mr. Kang’s office, your eyes were immediately drawn to the painting you had delivered just days ago, now proudly displayed on the wall.

"Really livens up the place, doesn’t it?" he mused, following your gaze.

You nodded absently before shifting in your seat, sitting up straighter. "Actually, Mr. Kang, I came to ask about my employer."

Yeosang leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Oh? Is this about his account? If so, I’m afraid I can’t discuss financial matters without his presence."

"No, no, it’s not that," you said quickly, hesitating as you tried to find the right words. Now that you were here, you realized you hadn’t exactly planned how to phrase your concerns without sounding ridiculous. "It’s more… personal. I suppose I’m just curious about his background. He’s very private, as you know, and since I’m living under the same roof as him, I just—well, I guess I’d like to be sure I’m not in any…"

"Danger?" Mr. Kang supplied, raising a brow.

The word felt too strong—maybe even rude—but you didn’t know how else to put it. After a beat, you gave a small nod.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I understand your concern. I was worried the townspeople’s gossip might be getting to you. But I can assure you, Count Park is a good man."

Somehow, that wasn’t as reassuring as he probably intended.

"That said," he continued, "if you're looking for more information about him, I’m afraid I’ve already told you everything I know. Your best bet would be the town registry. They may have more records on his estate and lineage."

The town registry. The thought hadn’t occurred to you before, but now that he’d mentioned it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something important could be waiting for you there.

After thanking Mr. Kang for his time, you set off toward the other side of town in search of the Town Clerk’s office. It was a bit of a trek for your tired feet, but your curiosity urged you forward. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to find. Mr. Kang was right—Count Park was strange, yes, his habits somewhat odd, but he had never been unkind. He had done nothing to warrant this growing unease that had settled in your chest. And yet… something wasn’t right. You couldn’t shake the feeling, nor could you bring yourself to sleep another night in that castle without at least trying to uncover the truth.

The Town Clerk’s office was an old, run-down building. The doors barely held together, their hinges rusted and weak, and thick cobwebs clung to the corners of the entryway. The wooden floorboards groaned beneath your hesitant steps, kicking up the scent of dust and decay. The air was stale, tinged with something unpleasant. Behind the counter stood an older man, his posture slouched with the same disinterest you had received from the woman at the bank. He barely looked up as you approached.

"Hello," you greeted, keeping your voice low. "I’m here on behalf of… Count Park Seonghwa."

At the mention of his name, the man’s gaze snapped toward you.

"He’s my cousin," you lied, forcing a nervous chuckle. "He asked me to come down and request a copy of his records, as he’s thinking of moving soon. You see, he’s been quite sick and—"

The clerk didn’t seem to care for your fabricated sob story. Without a word, he turned around and pulled out a long, rickety drawer, his fingers skimming over aged documents. After a brief pause, he retrieved a worn file and handed it to you without so much as a glance.

"Thank you," you mumbled, taking the file gingerly. You wasted no time tucking it into your shopping bag. The sun was beginning to set, casting an eerie golden glow over the town, so you stepped back outside, eager to return to the castle before nightfall.

As you walked back up the path, something felt… off. The air had changed, thick with something heavy and foreboding. An unsettling silence blanketed the town, save for the distant murmurs of people gathered in small clusters. Their faces were drawn and grave, their voices tinged with fear and anger. As you drew closer, you noticed more dead cows strewn along the dirt roads, their bodies limp and lifeless, eyes wide open. The scent of rot and blood stung your nose.

People were no longer merely mourning their losses—they were furious.

"That bastard! First my sheep, now my cows—someone’s doing this on purpose!"

"You think I had anything to do with this? You’re out of your mind!"

"All of us are suffering! God has abandoned us! First the cattle, then who’s to say our crops next?"

"You heard the stories! It’s the devil’s work! I told you he was cursed!"

Their voices rose in hysteria, their rage spilling over into accusations hurled at one another. Some men had begun shoving, women whispering behind their hands, their eyes darting toward the looming silhouette of the Count’s estate in the distance.

A cold dread seeped into your bones. The shift in the air wasn’t just in your mind. Something was happening. The people were on edge, their patience worn thin. It didn’t take much to see where their anger was beginning to turn.

Your pulse quickened, panic setting in. You had to leave before anyone noticed you lingering. Pulling your coat tighter around you, you hurried up the path, your boots crunching against the gravel as you retreated toward the castle.

⸺

You busied yourself in the kitchen, hoping the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the simmering pot on the stove would distract you from the unsettling events of the day. But your mind kept drifting—to the townspeople, their anger, the lifeless cattle, and most of all, the Count.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. You turned, surprised to see him standing in the doorway, dressed immaculately as always, as if the night before had never happened. He looked almost… untouched, unaffected.

You studied him carefully, searching for any sign of weakness, any lingering trace of last night’s affliction. But there was none. His complexion was as perfect as ever, his posture poised, his expression neutral. If anything, he seemed even more put together than usual, as if whatever had weakened him had vanished without a trace.

"Good evening," he greeted, sounding well-rested, as if the last twenty-four hours had been nothing but a dream.

You hesitated before responding, gripping the wooden spoon in your hand a little tighter. "Good evening, Count." You swallowed, forcing your tone to remain casual. "How are you feeling?"

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Why do you ask?"

You faltered. He was toying with you. "Well," you began carefully, "you were quite ill last night. I was worried."

"I was?" He stepped further into the kitchen, trailing his gloved fingers over the edge of the counter as he studied the meal you were preparing.

"You were coughing up blood," you pressed, watching his face closely. "You collapsed."

He leaned against the counter, as if trying to remember. "Ah yes…That must have been troubling for you."

Your lips parted in disbelief. What kind of response was that?

"It was more than troubling," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice. "You nearly collapsed in my arms. I stayed with you the entire night, worried you wouldn't wake up."

His eyes softened, but not in the way you'd expected. It wasn’t gratitude, nor regret. It was something else—something knowing.

"And yet, here I am," he said smoothly. "Alive and well."

You narrowed your eyes. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this? Was he trying to play it off that nothing had happened last night, that somehow you were the delusional one? "That doesn't explain anything."

He sighed as if indulging a particularly stubborn child, then turned his gaze to the pot simmering on the stove. "What are you making?"

You scoffed, incredulous at the way he was so effortlessly dodging the conversation. "Clam chowder," you muttered, stirring the pot with a little more force than necessary.

"Smells lovely," he murmured, though his interest seemed distant. He looked at you then, his gaze lingering just a moment too long before he spoke again. "Thank you for your concern."

It was dismissive. A conversation-ender. And you hated it.

But more than anything, you hated how much he unsettled you. Because despite his feigned nonchalance, despite the way he refused to acknowledge what had happened… you knew he was hiding something. And you were going to find out what.

⸺

As soon as you finished your nightly duties, you retreated to your room, locking the door behind you. Your body was exhausted, but your mind refused to rest. The weight of the documents in your lap felt heavier than paper should, as if they carried a truth too burdensome to bear.

You lit a candle, its flickering light barely illuminating the delicate, crumbling pages. The handwriting was difficult to decipher, the ink faded and the style archaic. You squinted, running your fingers over the words, tracing the loops and sharp angles in an attempt to piece together a story lost to time.

And then you saw it.

Park Seonghwa.

Your breath hitched. It was his name—unmistakably his, written in elegant script. You frowned, flipping through the pages, your heart pounding faster with every word you managed to make out. It was a marriage certificate.

This Certifies that Count Park Seonghwa & Lady Alya Were United In Marriage on the Seventh Day of June in the Year 1836.

Your breath grew shallow. Eighty years ago. That was impossible. The Count was so young. He couldn’t have been married eighty years ago. He couldn’t have been alive eighty years ago, not looking the way he did now.

Your hands shook as you turned another page. There was no birth record for him, nothing to confirm when or where he had come into existence. It was as if he had simply appeared one day. You turned a few more pages, until you stumbled upon another document:

Deed of Land. Let all men know and understand that as of the Third of February in the year 1621, Count Park Seonghwa is the true and original land owner of this following parcel: Lot 1117. The Interior of this land belongs to, and is under the control of Count Park Seonghwa. In the event of his passing, all rights and ownership herein shall be bestowed upon his lawful spouse, the Countess Ha-Rin.

None of what you read made any sense. You wondered if the ink had faded with time or if your weary eyes were simply deceiving you. Yet, no matter how many times you reread the words, the documents remained clear, official, and indisputable. A deep unease settled in your chest as you traced the elegant, aged script with your fingertips.

Just then, a brittle newspaper clipping slipped from the stack, fluttering to the floor. You leaned down, picking it up with trembling hands. The paper was fragile beneath your touch, its edges yellowed with time. Squinting, you carefully deciphered the small, faded text, your breath hitching as the words sank in.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you read the details. It was about the fire. The west wing of the estate had burned to the ground, the family suffering one casualty. Lady Alya was 68 when she died. But as you scoured the pages for more, for proof, for confirmation, there was none. No death certificate. No record of her remains. Nothing.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers clamming as you reached the last document in the stack. It was a photograph, old and wrinkled. You brought it closer to the candlelight, and your breath left you in a sharp gasp.

It was her.

The old woman from your dream. The same hauntingly familiar face. The soft curve of her lips, the gentle slope of her nose, the sorrow lingering in her eyes—eyes that mirrored your own.

Your hands grew clammy, and the paper slipped slightly from your grasp. How was this possible?

The air in your room felt suddenly thick and suffocating. The candle flickered violently as a sudden gust of wind rattled the windowpane. And then—

Thump.

It came from outside. A strange shuffling, wet and guttural.

You hesitated, Count Park’s words echoing in your mind, his warning to never go outside at night. But your curiosity, your fear, your need to understand, overpowered your reason.

Slowly, you reached for your coat, draping it over your shoulders before stepping toward the door. You moved carefully down the hall, the manor eerily silent, save for the howling wind beyond the walls.

You stepped outside the castle. The night was colder than usual, the wind sharp against your skin. The moon cast a dim glow over the grounds, stretching shadows across the frost-covered earth. Your breath came out in quiet puffs as you followed the sound, your feet crunching softly against the gravel.

Then you saw it, the origin of the sound.

It was a dark figure crouched over something in the grass, its shoulders rising and falling with each grotesque movement. There was a sickening squelch, a wet tearing noise that filled the air. You felt your stomach churn as you took another step closer, a sudden crunch of the autumn leaves giving away your presence.

The figure’s head snapped up.

Your heart stopped.

It was him.

The Count.

But he wasn’t the man you knew.

His lips were stained red, fresh blood dripping from his chin. His eyes, normally dark and heavy, were an inhuman shade of crimson, glowing like embers in the night. His fangs, long and glistening, protruded from his parted lips. And in his grasp, limp and lifeless, was the body of a cat, its black fur matted with blood.

A choked gasp left your throat.

Count Park froze, his expression undecipherable, though something flickered in his monstrous gaze—something almost like regret.

But it was too late.

Your vision blurred. Your head spun.

And then, the darkness took you.

taglist: @a1sh1teruu @filmnings @professormingisglasses @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @yunyunrin-reads @seonghwasstar @innocygnet @oreoqueen

for taglist request or removal, please send me an ask

act V: the fire ➜

#seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa angst #ateez angst #park seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa x reader

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infernothechaosgod · 3 days ago

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Im back from the movie and oh my god it was so so good I could just talk about the way it was animated for hours but rn im going to yap about the story bc i think it was wrapped out so well jesus christ

The way dog man gets introduced and its immidietly clear he is loved exactly at the same time as its shown theres a down side to it was such a great decision because most movies and stories as a whole usualy go with the "show the good great side first THEN wait a sec and show the down sides" witch is sometimes effective but often it does end up eating up lots of time for something we already are kinda aware of, dog man very quickly gets a grounding moment after its revealed Anne just left (also he got straight up insulted to the face TOT)

Montage with petey was peak idc what anyone says, it quickly establishes a long term pattern of petey getting out and out again and again getting caught attacking the city, jailed and instantly getting away while the visuals were just so vibrant and creative and accualy funny, they took the medium of animation and streached it all out so much in the best way possible I better see those animators get paid well and served fresh warm meals from today to the end of their lifes and a week

PETEY

Petey was SO much fun, he was so cartoonishly evil while at the same time accualy being a threat and being taken as one by both the narrative and the characters (I am SO done with the evil characters being made fun of by the narrative you have no idea The looking down at the audience and them goes CRAZY nowdays) but to a dose where you are able to belive in his change later on

his reaction to seeing his father being brought back to him was so sad and really made it clear that he accualy does get to him deeper than others, not just by his animation and facial expressions but also by the way he acts from around him as a whole, he seems to accualy try not to let his usual over the top anger out so much because he KNOWS that is a losing battle he already fought and lost enough to know there is nothing he can do to win and i dont think its too much to say he was still scared of him, grandpa leaving with all his stuff doesnt even shock him that much because he knows how much of a horrible person he is was and will be, and the way he was written as a whole also coming to realization he is slowly falling into the same line his own abusive father went through and getting moved by that sm it was the biggest domino block to fall making his Tower of current self image, horrible world view and false beliefs (he most likely came trying to cope/explain to himself why such a horrible thing could happen to him?) Began to shake and later fall

LIL PETEY THE LIGHT IN THE DARK THE BABY ILY SM

he is a baby and i love him sm, he was so cute while also being a great character that has thoughts on his own!? SHOCKING! Very often children especialy young young ones are more of "add on's" for the parent characters that drive the narrative just by "being the baby" and that being it. AND IM SO HAPPY lil petey wasnt that! I mean i KNEW he woudnt be it because of the comics (witch i have not read but will get my hands on soon enough) obviously but it still made me so happy to see him come up with his own ideas lisening but not always following the rules set for him by both petey and dog man, he really just wanted to help around and also got to act like an accual child witch was really cute (it's kinda sad that thats considered a high bar for movie children TOT)

Lil petey also being a direct contract to petey really helps it sink in that petey wasnt born evil or anything like that no one is, but its the way he got treated that turned him into what he is now but beneath that he still has some of that hope and goodnes in himself that just needs help to flurish again after getting stepped on so much

Oh my god theres so much more to say and you better prapare for me to make at least 8 more posts like this tomorrow, i really wanna talk about dog Mans (the cheiffs and other characters) characterization and writing more so you better prapare AND THE COMEDY

Also you bet im gonna make thousands of art with them all

#Dog man #dog man movie #dogman #petey the cat #dog man petey #lil petey #dogman movie #Writing #Dog man analysis #(?)#Alright everyone i told you get ready for this blog to just be about them for some time

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putschki1969 · 3 days ago

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Happy 6th Solo Anniversary, Wakana💗

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Wakana is celebrating her 6th anniversary as solo artist today so she uploaded a little video on her fan club page to show her gratitude. Aside from reflecting on her anniversary, she also shared some video snippets of her recording the latest episode of "Wakana's Talk Garden" which will be uploaded on February 10th. This time, we'll get the podcast in video format. BANZAI! Since she was replying to as many messages as possible, the podcast turned out super long. Wakana feared it would be hard to follow this much audio content so she wanted to provide some visuals for us to make the experience more fun. Awwww! Bless her!!! Always thinking about us!! This is surely gonna be a lot of fun. Look at her tearing up! 🥹 Just a little sad that we won't be getting most of the Kalafina impressions for this episode T_T »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

Wakana Spring Live 2025 Details

《Performance Overview》 [Date/Time] April 10, 2025 Open 17:45 / Start 18:30 [Venue] Hulic Hall Tokyo [Performers] Vocal: Wakana Music Director/Keyboard: Takebe Satoshi Drums: Tsuruya Tomoo Bass: Hamasaki Kenta Guitar: Ueda Koji Manipulator: Maeda Yugo [Ticket Price] 8,800 yen (+additional drink fee of 600 yen) ＜FC Advanced Ticket Lottery＞ Ticket platform: SKIYAKI TICKET Application limit: 2 tickets per person Application period: February 6, 2025~February 11, 2025 Result announcement: February 14~ Payment deadline: ~February 21

2025/02/06 Blog post by Wakana 6周年を迎えました✨��Wakanaのドウガ！をアップしたよ〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

6th Anniversary✨〜I Uploaded a FC Video〜

Today, it's been 6 years since my solo debut! ! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

I was able to reach this day because of all of your continuous support for me ✨ Thank you so much. I made a video where I tried to convey my gratitude to you‼ ︎･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･'(ﾟ▽ﾟ)'･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Actually, I'm planning to post the next "Wakana's Talk Garden" episode in video format! I've uploaded a sort of digest, so I hope it will get you excited 😊💕

Also, the details for my upcoming Spring Live were announced! The advanced FC ticket lottery starts today‼ ︎･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ I haven't decided on a title for the concert yet😂 Please wait a little longer! Find all the details in the link below. https://wakana-fc.jp/contents/888654

The music director is Takebe Satoshi, and the musicians are also my regular band members 😆♪ (They accompanied me at "Wakana 5th Anniversary Live ~The"VOICE"Stories~" as well 😊) Let's all enjoy music together for the 6th year in a row! ＼(^o^)／

I think this every year, but the past year has been an irreplaceable and precious time for me. It is because of all these experiences that I have been able to transition well into the next year. In the future, I will continue to have many thoughts, I will worry, I will cry, but I will also laugh out loud and feel happy.

I think I will have many joyful opportunities to meet you in various places so I am looking forward to that. I hope all our moments together will be filled with music and happiness 😊✨

I am once again grateful that we have reached this day, February 6, 2025.Thank you so much, everyone, for everything ☺️

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2025/02/06 Instagram post by Wakana

Today marks the 6th anniversary of my solo debut 🥳🎉 I'm very happy to have safely reached another anniversary 😊 I was able to reach this day because of all of you who continue to always support me. Thank you ✨

In the past year, I've been happy, laughing, crying, and worrying about many things.

At the core of my being is always the feeling of, "I love singing more than anything." That's why I want to sing. I want music by my side 😊

I will continue to sing and never give up on sharing my music with all of you. I am truly grateful for this 6th anniversary. Thank you so much 🧚✨ (Source 1 and Source 2)

#kalafina #wakana #video #botanical land #fan club exclusive content #wakana solo work #wakana's talk garden #wakana spring live 2025 #wanna go but can't T_T #wakana blog #wakana on instagram

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sword-of-the-moonmaiden · 2 days ago

Note

Can you write Shadowheart with a bard Tav that just sings at all hours Even at 5 in the morning and as they go to bed, like Disney princess levels bs💀

Sure thing! Didnt mean to be away from the blog for this long, but unfortunately work got in the way. Hope you enjoy!

Songbird (Shadowheart x Bard!Tav)

In a chaotic whirlwind of an adventure, most of your merry band of adventurers would describe the campsite as peaceful, safe and filled with cameraderie. What they would not describe it as, however, is quiet. Its never quiet, thanks to you and your lyre by the campfire.

Day and night, your inspirational voice carried melodies and stories alike for the team to keep them on their feet, pushing them forward against all odds. Even in the quieter moments between locations, your voice was echoing amongst trees, mountains and villages alike. It was constant, but something all your companions (mostly) enjoyed.

You try to block out the memory of Astarion trying to cut your lyre strings whilst you were trying to sleep.

Shadowheart, however, had paid certain attention to your songs. It was unlike anything she could remember hearing, as there were no bards in the Sharran Cloister, and the Nightsinger's teachings were all about stealth and how not to be seen. Your very existance went against her studies, and whilst your total aversion to stealth was irritating at times, she couldnt be mad at the way you held the team together and made the best out of shitty situations.

A fond memory of hers, a new one aquired along this trip, was one of the very firsy nights you had all spent together. Stars twinkled above as your voice wove a gentle melody around the campfire, retelling stories about the events that had transpired so far. You had looked so peaceful, as if using your voice to entertain was as natural as breathing to you.

Maybe it was.

It's how Shadowheart finds you one very early morning, Selune's Tears sparkling far ahead as your siren-like voice carried across the wind and through the trees as if it belonged there as another aspect of nature. Flames illuminated your laid back form, the gentle crackle of the burning wood the only other sound audible in the night's embrace.

"Not that I'm complaining, but must you really be singing at this gods-forsaken hour?" Shadowheart's voice cuts across the campsite, causing your head to snap up to meet her almost inquisitive gaze.

As your playing slows to a halt, your attention turns towards her fully. "I didn't think anyone else was awake to hear it. Sorry if I disturbed your sleep, I know how prickly you can get without it." A teasing grin pulls at your lips as your companion merely rolls her eyes, settling on joining you by the campfire.

In truth, you truly did believe everyone to be asleep. After all, the moon was high across the sky, and dawn would be breaking in a few short hours to paint the sky in its gorgeous burning hues. It was that peaceful type of morning night where the sound and music carries away disonent thoughts and sleepless struggles with ease.

As the wood cracks and splinters under the heat of the licking flames, Shadowheart spies her opportunity to ask another question.

"So, why are you up this late, little Songbird? I mean, normally you're singing from dawn til dusk," Shadowheart chuckles in amusement, hand idly plusking the strings of your lyre, "But at night, where nobody can hear you? I thought you lived for an audience."

"I..." You paused, and under her piercing green gaze you feel like you have nowhere to hide, not even behind your song, "I just couldnt sleep. Besides, I did have an audience. My tadpole was quite enjoying my music."

"Tadpole? Really?" You can hear the amusement in her tone, that mischievous sparkle dancing in her eyes. "Well, I suppose it has to enjoy your music, with how much you're performing for all of us. Perhaps that's the thing keeping you awake, your worm companion wants more of your songs."

After a quiet laugh, a blanket of silence settles, even the fire seemingly muting itself in the shared moment. You can feel Shadowheart's eyes raking over you, yet they're more appreciative than prying. Sharran's value silence, after all, and in it's depths there is value. Peace. Quiet.

Yet for once, it's not you who breaks it

"Well, your tadpole wasn't the only one enjoying it either. It's nice, not having to live in the shadows and quiet anymore. I don't remember getting to experince many things like this, if I did at all. The cloister was silent, most of the time, unless I was in lesson or my barracks." Shadowheart shuffles closer, gently repositioning the lyre in your grasp so you're positioned to play again. A warmth blossoms in your chest as her finger brush yours.

"However," she continues, "I quite like your constant singing. It's comforting, as I know you're close by. Although, next time you can't sleep, do just come find me. I'm sure I can find some way to tire you out and get you to sleep."

Shadowheart's laugh rings out sweeter than any melody as she takes in your stunned expression, and in that moment you find your sleepless troubles diminishing in her presence. She leans against you, her gaze warm and inviting as embers on a winter evening.

"Now come on, little Songbird, I'm sure I can stand to listen to one more of your beautifully sung songs before I drag you to bed and make sure you get some proper rest."

And sing for her you did.

Well, that was actually really fun to write. Slightly sleep deprived myself, but i can picture Shads really enjoying some music after a life of silence!

#bg3 #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader

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shady-tavern · 1 year ago

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Drabble for the Tailors on Baker Street

@stargotheart asked for a part two for The Tailors on Baker Street an age ago and I finally got around to writing it! Small warning ahead for implied abuse and murder.

*.*.*

Using your horrible ex-spouse's money for a good cause had only been logical and natural. There were many people in situations where they needed aid but didn't know where to go and you wanted to offer a space where they could get good counsel at the very least, if not outright a way out, be it bad relationships or debts.

You hadn't been alone in creating the charity house Daisy Chain, your friend Jane had been a massive help, as had been Julius and Milly. Their eyes had briefly lit up sunshine-gold when you had asked if you could use that particular name and you'd never forget the way they looked at you afterwards.

The way Milly had cupped your face ever so gently in her palms, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks and her smile as sweet as honey as she looked at you. Julius had taken your hand afterwards, touch soft and careful and he had lifted it to pressed a light kiss to your knuckles, gaze holding yours.

"Let us know if there is anyone who could use our particular kind of help," he had murmured, his soft lips brushing your skin and his gaze downright captivating, the color his eyes turning a dark, smoldering gold. "We'd love to take care of such cases."

You could admit to yourself then, as they had stood close to you, brimming with some kind of unnatural joy while still handling you with near intense softness, that you had started to fall in love with them. With these wonderful, strange and kind and lovely people who made you laugh until you were breathless, something you hadn't done for quite some time.

You did not care that their eyes held a golden shine, something human eyes should not have, that they sometimes whisked people into their backroom and you could never prove anything, but you had slowly pieced some things together by asking careful questions in the following days. Whenever they spoke with someone, at least a week or two later, a spouse or family member or acquaintance died.

It would have scared you in the past, before your marriage and it probably would scare others, but mostly you were...glad. That people who had no one else, who lived in darkness and fear as you had, as you still sometimes did when shadows in the shape of your deceased spouse followed at your heels, could turn to someone.

That someone would listen and do something when no one else would. If your fellow humans and the law and even faith was of no aid, there was someone else out there willing to offer a hand.

You loved them for that, too. A part of you loved Milly and Julius for caring, for seeing evil and destroying it. For extending warmth and safety to those who needed it.

That feeling of being safe around them had never disappeared either. To this day whenever you saw them, when you visited their shop or they dropped by your place in the evening, you still felt it. Warm and gentle and yet as steady and present as the sun and moon, as the tides that flowed around the world. They were safe and you were safe with them.

Tonight was the opening night for Daisy Chain and many of your former spouse's friends and acquaintances had shown up, commending you on your bravery in these trying times, as well as your altruistic, good heart.

Being widowed helped more than you had expected, though you weren't grieving at all, of course. It felt like people donated more out of pity than anything else, but you were willing to take what you could get. Especially if it ended up helping others.

Your downright decadent evening garb, made by Milly and Julius, seemed to get compliments from every single person that greeted you and even you could admit that you hadn't been dressed so finely even when your spouse had been alive.

They had always wanted to look impeccable in the public eye and to be the envy of everyone who laid eyes upon them. Dressing you up like a decorative piece had just simply been part of that.

Milly and Julius on the other hand had hand-sewn you something so beautiful and fitting that just putting it on had given you more confidence. The second you had looked into the mirror, you felt as though you were looking at a fairy tale version of yourself. There was a shine to you that you had never seen before.

Jane, your best friend who had been a steady source of support and cheer no matter what, had given you a very knowing grin when she had arrived with her beau.

Milly and Julius had shown up a little while ago as well, mingling with the rich gentry, looking gorgeous and mysterious and they fit in seamlessly. Sometimes though you saw their smiles gain the faintest edge, their eyes tracking someone who you had heard unpleasant rumors about.

You regretfully didn't speak much with them, you were too busy socializing and they seemed to be doing their own little thing as well, but every so often your gazes met. Every time you felt your heart melt at the smiles they gave you. They looked proud and encouraging and so very lovely.

As the evening wound down, you found yourself glad to send your guests home, some more drunk than others. Jane was the one who ushering the last straggler out and into a waiting carriage. She waved at you with a grin and you waved back, mouthing a heartfelt 'thank you' at her.

She sketched a playful bow and mouthed 'always' back at you, before taking her beau's hand and letting him help her into their own carriage. She waved one last time as they drove away, looking tired but happy.

And then, finally, the stressful and yet very successful and exciting evening was over.

The only reason you heard Milly and Julius approach from behind was because they wanted you to hear them. Their steps still threading softer than a humans would and you knew from experience that they could walk utterly soundlessly. You looked over your shoulder at them, finding yourself relaxing fully.

"You did amazing work, darling," Milly said, voice quiet in the empty, large entrance hall and her eyes held a soft, warm golden shimmer in the candlelight. "You truly are beautiful inside and out."

"With a soul as bright as your spirit," Julius added. "Thank you, for honoring us with an invite. For letting us see you shine tonight."

This was another thing they did. They made you just a little speechless with the way they spoke with you, the easy-as-breathing compliments and sweet words and endearments. The way they looked at you. You hadn't had a desire to be close to someone in a romantic way after you had gotten married, but those two...

Within a year they had awoken many of your quiet, sweet little dreams about what love could be. You had buried those dreams upon your marriage and you had even thought them dead and gone until they had lifted your hopes back into the light.

You never wanted to marry again, but if it was them, if they would ever want you the way you had grown to want them, you'd be willing to offer up your heart one more time. To trust someone else with yourself, even if a part of you found the thought of such vulnerability quite terrifying.

"Tonight was quite the success," Milly said as she joined you by the window, the embroidery of her gorgeous dress shimmering in the candlelight. "Though you seem quite thoughtful now."

You might be biased, but in your opinion, she had been the most beautiful woman at the party tonight. She had easily charmed all other guests and no one had noticed her sharp gaze that missed nothing.

Julius joined her at your other side, elegant and tall and in your opinion, among all the other gentlemen, he had cut the most impressive figure. He had gotten everyone around him to relax, smiling and joking and casting him the occasional, admiring look.

You were the only one aware of the fact that people always said more than they meant to around both tailors. That they revealed things they hadn't meant to, especially when alcohol joined the mix. You had caught one or two startled faces as someone hastily excused themselves from a conversation or quickly changed the subject.

"You're just both on my mind," you answered honestly, allowing yourself to be a little daring, riding the feeling of relieved success that seemed to lend wings to your heart and soul. "Could you learn anything useful from anyone?"

"Oh, plenty," Julius reassured you with a charming smile, one that had enough of an earnest edge to let you know it wasn't one of those empty, charming smiles he offered to polite society. "Don't worry, we got everything we wanted and more."

"Even had we gained nothing, we would have greatly enjoyed ourselves," Milly added, drifting an elegant step closer to you, her decadent dress brushing a little up against you. "We came here for you after all, first and foremost."

While that was true, you were glad that they would be able to help more people going forward. It was strangely reassuring to know that dangerous, nasty folk in positions of powers had predators after them. That, even if the law didn't do anything or even protected them, someone would still come for them to stop them.

"We will always be there if you want us to be," Julius added, voice dropping to something quieter as he reached out, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingertips warm and slightly calloused as they brushed your skin, causing a pleasant little shiver to travel down your back. "You have become quite dear to us."

"Very much so," Milly agreed and both of their gazes felt warm and heavy on you. "Which is why, if you are not too tired yet, we'd like to speak with you."

You were still riding the euphoric relief of a successful evening and while you knew the exhaustion would hit hard later, for now you felt wide awake.

"I have time," you reassured her, glancing between them curiously. "Is there something I can help you with?" You'd do everything you could to be of aid to them, that was for sure.

"This is no business talk," Milly said and grew more serious, her faintly golden eyes drawing you in with their intensity. "I want to say first that one word from you and we will never speak of this again, nor do we want you to feel like you have to say yes."

"No matter your answer, you will remain our cherished friend and you can always count on our aid," Julius added, just as solemn and serious and intense, his gaze capturing and holding yours when you glanced at him.

A thread of nervousness wove through your gut and around your heart, but it was far smaller than it would have been had anyone else approached you. Because Milly and Julius were safe. They might be dangerous for others, might be downright deadly, but they were protectors at heart.

Even now, as they stood close to you, that feeling of safety was there, the candlelight illuminating everything softly and warmly. It felt cozy and private and comfortable and it calmed every one of your anxieties. It soothed the part of your heart and soul that still carried deep bruises from your previous marriage.

"Alright," you said, carefully lacing your fingers together to keep from fiddling with anything.

You had no idea where this was going, but as you looked at them, at the way they watched you, a quiet hope you didn't dare voice began to rise within you. It unfolded weightless wings that seemed to fill your entire chest and before you knew it, you had taken a small step towards them.

They didn't miss that. Of course they didn't and you felt fingertips brush your hands and you easily unlaced your fingers to reach back. Hands that were quite different from each other, one slender and the other big, but both warm and calloused and they held yours as though it was made of spun glass.

"We never expected you to become such an integral a part of our lives when we met you," Milly said, voice growing softer and her smile was sweet and so very hopeful it made your breath catch and your heart flutter. "But the more we got to know you, the more you grew into the person you wanted to be, the more we enjoyed your company."

"We've both found ourselves looking forward to your visits, counting down the hours until we could close the shop and head over to your place," Julius said and when he reached out with his free hand, seemingly unable to help himself to cup your cheek, you couldn't help but lean your head a little into the touch.

His hand was warm and calloused and never anything but gentle and safe and he was solid and grounding.

"We talked at length about this," Milly said, her slender, strong fingers interlacing with yours in that same, gentle and safe manner and giving a little, reassuring squeeze. "If we should even say anything, if our affections wouldn't be entirely misplaced."

"They aren't," you whispered and your heart seemed to fill with so much bubbling hope you wouldn't have been surprised to see it spill out to stain your skin that same, beautiful golden glow that you saw in the eyes of your tailors.

"Then let us to be blunt," Julius said and his small smile was hopeful. "We found ourselves caring deeply for you and we hope that you might allow us to love you."

"We know you know we're not human," Milly added quietly. "But if you want us, we will gift you our hearts as surely as we gave them to each other. As you have welcomed us into your life, we'd welcome you into ours."

You didn't even have to think about the answer. Not when all your quiet yearnings and hopes and soft feelings and your longing for love wove into one big strand that tugged you towards them.

"You shall have my heart in return," you answered, your grip tightening on their hands. "For as long as you want me, it is yours."

"Forever then," Julius said quietly, smoothing his thumb over your cheek before he used the hand that cupped the side of your face to guide you a little closer. "Sweet one, let me steal a kiss."

You'd let him steal that and so much more if he wanted to. You closed your eyes and leaned up, his lips brushing yours with the same love and care he had shown you in all other regards.

"We'll take you out tomorrow," he whispered as he pulled back, he smelled faintly of champagne and something that reminded you of sunshine dancing on cool water, the sort of smell you wouldn't have found on a human partner.

"We might have been planning a couple of possible dates," Milly added as he pulled back and you turned towards her. She was smiling so happily it filled your heart with even more joy in return. "We'd love to court you properly."

"You don't have to," you said as Julius' hand slipped away and she took a step forward, her slender, elegant hand settling on your other cheek. Her touch felt just as steady and grounding and safe.

"We value too much to not show our appreciation," she said, leaning in and you turned towards her like a flower to light and her soft lips brushed your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and you turned your head just enough to meet her next kiss.

She too smelled like champagne and sunshine on water and her kiss pressed a little deeper than her husbands and you allowed yourself to get lost in it, in her, until she pulled back.

"I might have some plans myself," you admitted, thinking of all the times you had daydreamed about asking them out and them saying yes. Of showing them beautiful gardens and hidden little spots in nature outside the city. Of inviting them to art galleries and theaters and festivals.

"We look forward to them," Julius said, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, while his wife smiled and kissed your cheek again. "Will you let us take you home tonight?"

"Yes," you answered with a smile. Tonight and any other night. For as dangerous as you knew they were, for all that they weren't human, you knew their hands would be nothing but gentle and careful.

You could put everything you were into their hold and know, down to the marrow of your bones, that you would be welcomed and treated with care. That they had grown to love you as much as you loved them and despite the shadows lingering, the bruises left on your mind and soul, you could entrust your heart to them as surely as they had offered theirs to you.

*.*.*

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#my writing #short story #fantasy #polyamory #writlbr #original writing #this is really just nothing but softness #people being gentle and loving with each other #I very much hope this story turned out well!#it was a lot of fun to write so I hope someone enjoys reading it as well!

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animalinvestigator · 1 year ago

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happy 8 years

i will transform so i don't die

#my art #undertale #chara dreemurr #am a bit bereft of things to say lol sorry. usually this is where i have a whole diatribe to go off on #i didn't feel like celebrating very much this year so the artwork i made isnt very celebratory #but it was always the sad and futile parts of the story that made me feel the most when i was a kid . so #it's maybe truer to the spirit of my love for this game than any of the cutesy celebration drawings ive done over the years #um . as it was and still is. my heart lives where this story is #if i hadn't played it when i was a kid i don't know if i would have made it this far. im actually almost certain i wouldnt have #sometimes its hard to be thankful for that but i make myself be thankful lol.#so dramatic rofl. well it's just what i was thinking #thanks for being here everyone. i kind of like how this drawing turned out and i hope you will too

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misericorsalvator · 5 months ago

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An Epitaph

Henry didn't know where he was. It was cold, freezing, but that was all he could tell, from the sharp chill that tore through his damp clothes, to the frigid air that felt like icicles in his lungs when he breathed. Even if he was someplace familiar, it would have been impossible to tell through the veil of rime in the air, the thick hoar that coated the ground. But wherever he was, he had to find shelter. soon, before his limbs grew any number that they already were and he lost the three fingers he had left on his right hand to frostbite. It took a good deal of walking, trudging through the snow, before he found something resembling sanctuary. A rocky hovel dug deep into a mountainside he hadn't even noticed was there. The crooked mountaintop loomed far overhead like a wind-swept pine tree, towering over the barren expanse and shielding the small patch of land near the cave's entrance from the worst of the snowfall. It was a narrow fit, the opening more narrow than a coffin, but it opened up into a wide chamber beyond, dark, lit only by the little light reflecting on the snow outside.

Panic stabbed at him suddenly. That chamber felt familiar, though he couldn't recall from where. The rockface of the walls was smooth, man-made, and the stalactites hanging from the domed ceiling above were unnatural, all the same length, jagged and sharpened to fine points. But he had no time to waste on the unnerving interior. The weather outside was getting worse, the wind howling like wolves on a hunt, and soon his shelter would be just as cold and dangerous as the outside. He had to think, find a way to keep the warmth in. Henry returned to the entrance. He twisted around in the narrow space as best he could and began piling up snow with his numb hands, stacking it, pressing it into shape, mouthing breathless curses to himself, until he had built a solid wall halfway up to his neck. It should last. He didn't know for how long, but at least for now, until he could catch his breath. It had to last.

Henry slumped against the wall of the cave. The barrier he had built offered some protection, but he could still feel the cold creeping in, seeping through the gaps and cracks in the snow. A damp chill gnawed at his bones, freezing the air in his lungs. He knew he had to keep moving, to do something, anything, to stay warm and awake. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep. Not here. Not now. But his limbs were leaden and his body creaked in protest with every movement. His teeth chattered as he tried to think, tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The harder he tried, however, the more his thoughts seemed to slip away, like sand through his fingers. Panic clawed at his chest once more as he looked around the cavern. The walls seemed to close in, the smooth stone shimmering with a thin layer of rime frost. The ceiling above with the unnaturally sharp stalactites, loomed over him like a mouth full of fangs. He had to get out.

Henry pushed himself off the wall, his legs shaking beneath him. The snow was piling up faster now, further in through the entrance than the wall he had built, and he frantically began to shovel it away with his hands, trying to clear a path through the narrow gap. He shovelled harder, floundered, grappled til his fingers were too numb to move, but for every tiny hopeful opening he made, more snow took its place, as if the storm outside was determined to bury him alive. The cold was unbearable now, seeping into his very soul. Outside, the wind roared, a feral sound that echoed through the cavern and made the air thick with cold. Each breath now was a knife to the chest, each inhale burning his lungs. The snow crawled closer, blocking the entrance fully, and began to cover the cave floor inch by painful inch, forcing the hunter back step by painful step.

Henry's mind was reeling. He stumbled further into the cave, away from the encroaching cold, the bones of his legs creaking in protest. The deeper he went, the more the walls seemed to close in on him, the smooth rock pressing down, suffocating. The quiet there was unnerving, an oppressive stillness that made him painfully aware of his own laboured breathing and the pounding of his heart. The silence of the grave. For what felt like an hour, he pushed himself forward against the stone walls, cowering under the stalactites which were now low enough to graze the top of his head. No matter how far he went, the snow followed close behind, blocking the way back. Henry's movements grew slower, more sluggish, until he could no longer outrun it, and that white frost began piling up around his boots. He felt the fight leave him, his breathing weakened, his heartbeat slowed.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—a single snowflake, delicate and perfect, drifting down from the ceiling above. His breath caught in his throat as he watched it fall, impossibly slow, through solid rock. It glowed faintly in the dim light and Henry’s eyes followed its descent, almost hypnotized, until it landed softly on the ground. On something dark, something that wasn’t stone. He crouched down, his stiff knees cracking in protest, and wiped away the snow, his fingers brushing against a cold, unyielding surface.

A hand.

His hand.

His breath caught in his throat. He was looking at himself, at his own lifeless body, crumpled and broken, half-buried in the snow. The wounds were horrific—deep gashes and punctures that were draining the life out of him-- and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

This wasn't real.

The snow, the cold, it was all in his head, growing blurry as his brain ran out of oxygen. And the cavern wasn’t just familiar—it was the place he was dying, right now, in the real world. The place where his body was lying, bleeding out into the cold ground, his blood darkening the stone ground.

For a third time, panic surged through him, but it was laced with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. The wind howled louder, and now Henry could make out voices, battle cries, screeching and yowling in twisted satisfaction. The snow now poured into the cave through the solid ceiling above, burying everything in its path. He wanted to claw his way out, to escape this nightmare, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. The snow was too thick, too heavy, pressing down on him from all sides. As his vision began to blur, the walls of the cave pulsed, breathing with a life of their own, in tandem with his own slowed breaths. The snow continued to fall, endlessly, burying him, until all he could see was white. And then, from the heart of the storm, he saw a figure—a tall, imposing silhouette that moved with unnatural grace, cutting through the blizzard as if it were nothing. Henry tried to focus, but his mind was slipping, the edges of his consciousness fraying like old cloth.

His final thoughts drifted to Bran. A deep guilt welled up inside him. He wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. He wouldn’t see his boy’s face light up when he opened his presents, wouldn’t hear his laughter echoing through the house. Regret gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. In his last moments, as the darkness closed in, Henry barely registered the sharp pain in his chest—a bite, cold and searing, as if winter itself had latched onto his heart, and his eyes froze over with unshed tears until the world faded and he breathed his last.

In a long-forgotten catacomb in Wales, as the last drop of Henry's blood soaked into the humid ground, something ancient stirred. Beneath the layers of earth and stone, within the crypt that had long been forgotten, a pair of eyes snapped open. After centuries of entombment, something awoke. The blood of the dying hunter seeped into its consciousness, filling it with the remnants of Henry's life, his memories, his regrets. And once the blood had ran dry, the ancient knight rose from his tomb, his eyes burning with a cold, unholy fire.

He tore through the killers, the blood-thirsty beasts who had chased their prey to the ancient tomb, splattering the walls with their undead blood that burnt to ash, until none were left. Then, he looked down at the broken body of the hunter who had unwittingly become his saviour. With a grim sense of purpose, the knight knelt beside Henry’s lifeless form. He whispered words in a dialect long dead, a prayer, perhaps, or a vow. Then, with a reverence reserved for fallen comrades, the knight lifted the hunter’s body and carried him deeper into the crypt, where heroes were once laid to rest, where the knight's own tomb stood, broken apart from within. The hunter was gone, his spirit entwined with the ancient knight’s own, but his legacy would live on, honoured by one of the very creatures he had once sought to destroy.

The knight sealed the tomb with a final, solemn gesture, then left the catacombs behind and stepped out into the warm summer night, into a world which had long outlived him.

#{ooc}#{warning: long read}#{drabble}#{Hey all-- it's been a blast but with life getting busier and busier I don't know how much RPing I've got left in me; at least for now.#So I wanted to give Henry a proper ending; a 'to be continued' if inspiration hits-- but also an epilogue in case it doesn't.#As RPing goes I may very well suddenly get struck with inspo in a couple days and veto this whole thing;#but it's also the first thing I've written in a long while and I'm pretty proud of how it turned out :)#The creature in the end is another character I've been brainstorming for a while but didn't have the time/energy to write;#I may play around with them a bit either on here or discord but I reckon we all know by now how life can get in the way :/#That said #It's been incredible roleplaying with all of you over the years;#in a way it's thanks to you lot that I kept writing even when I thought I had no stories left in me.#You are -all of you- an inspiration and I hope I'll get to write with you all properly again once life permits :)#For now; I wish you a good timezone and a wonderful rest of your day. Take care and stay safe!#-Crow}

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