#I'm not a monster I swear

[silvertws]

I was road down memory lane today so I drew the Protector's guild symbol on my hand using eyeliner. :DDD I think it looks good for a first attempt... Even though the quality of the picture sucks :'))) I wanna do all the other guilds as well even tho Grimshade is kinda complicated to draw on my body with one hand... Since my hands are shaky af.. I will draw them on paper next time and use them as a way to make the outlines better :3

[demigods-posts]

if luke had succeeded in recruiting percy. the best role percy could have been was the spy. going on a quests under the guise of a hero. sabotaging collective plans under the guise of impulsiveness. sending information back to luke through IM. relishing in the naievity of his peers that they'll win the soon-to-come war. and he's sure he's making the right decision. until bianca dies. until the one thing luke promised him would never happen happens. and just as the tides of the battle changes. just as the heroes see that luke is willing to kill. percy faith in luke begins to waver.

[peonywithroses]

your butlers are hiding some secrets. are you willing to take a risk and uncover them?...🖤

[thatssomegoodsoup]

Can you do a the doctor x anthropology!reader that worked with him and had a crush on him but had to leave because of health problems but when they get to the beginning of chapter 4. He realized who they were and kept them with them. ( Anthropology is the study of bones if you didn't know)

Cleared up in DMS that anthropology is in fact NOT the study of bones, it's the study of human behavior, culture, societies, biology, and linguistic, whether that be past or current. Anyways, I'm imagining a lot of good lore for this one!

Art Credit: DrHarleySawyer on Game Jolt

THE DOCTOR X ANTHROPOLOGIST! READER FANFIC

After completing your anthropology degree and behavioral sciences degree, you went to find work. Finding work involving your field was incredibly difficult, as you didn't have any field experience. Plus there was not many jobs that required your field. One day, you applied for a behaviorist job. This company gave you a call back. And so began your career at Playtime Co.

You were assigned to watch over the kids when they came in for tours. Not your ideal job, but it paid well. Unfortunately in your time, you witnessed a few factory accidents.

You were the greatest in your field. Eventually, you got moved to watch and study kids in a newly built area of the factory; the orphanage. You found what the things on the checklist that they gave you odd, but you did your job as it paid a little bit more than the behaviorist job.

Eventually, you were called into Ludwig's office. Two employees (Pierre, White, and an absent chair) were there as well. You were nervous that you had gotten in trouble. After all, you knew that the company frequently made people disappear.

Ludwig began to compliment your work and how well you had done. Pierre and White soon took over and said that your anthropology degree would be useful in their line of work. They also briefly mentioned how the doctor couldn't come along. You agreed to the job, mostly thinking about the money and excitement of a new career. You signed a lot of waivers and legal agreements. And so began your career on the Bigger Bodies Initiative.

Harley was not pleased to say the least. He had preferred to work alone, and he had been doing fine with the experiments. But ultimately you did help by analyzing the behaviors of the kids before and after being turned into a toy, and you help recognize behavioral patterns and anomalies. You noticed things Sawyer himself didn't even notice. You two grew to be acquaintances, and then friends, and then you grew feelings for him. But he didn't grow feelings for you right away. When he finally asked you out, you were ecstatic. You two dated for a few years, and fell madly in love. People jokingly referred to you as 'Mrs/Mr/Mx Sawyer'. And that would become the case when on a date, Sawyer proposed to you. And you two became engaged. Unfortunately, a few months after becoming engaged, your health problems started to get worse. Your health issues hadn't given you any problems when you first started working on the BBI. But now they were causing problems.

Harley was obviously concerned for you. You both used your paychecks to help fund your treatment. At some point in time, you two got married, and you became Mr./Mx./Mrs. Sawyer (or the spouse of Sawyer); also you two moved into an apartment together.

Your health continued to decline, and eventually you came into work less and less. Eventually, your health problems got so bad that you couldn't come into work anymore, and so you signed several more NDAs and quit. Sawyer promised that he would keep sending you money and call you every day as soon as he got the chance. His money kept you afloat and helped you get treatment.

One day, Sawyer never came home. You waited. And waited. And waited. "maybe he's just busy" you thought, and you went to bed. When you awoke, he was not beside you. You listened, and you heard no noise in your apartment. And so, you called his work phone. But he never picked up. Another day passed, and you decided to call again. But the operator insists that number never existed and is no longer in service.

So you call Dr.White, who did pick up but dodged all your questions. Frustrated, you called Pierre, nervously playing with your wedding ring. You questioned Pierre, and he tried dodging your questions. It quickly became a shouting match, and Pierre threatened your life before slamming the phone down. You were angry and heartbroken. You hadn't seen your husband in days, and your former employers, your former friends were hiding something from you.

Despite your anger, you weren't in any shape to go and investigate, so you gathered all the money you had kept stashed away + the money Sawyer had given you and decided to get some new treatment that was not part of mainstream science yet (this is the 50s/60s/70s/80s, new shit was being invented all the time). This new medication helped alleviate your symptoms. Unfortunately, your health problems were still a big issue. You eventually ran out of money, and so to keep funding the new treatment, you wrote books on anthropology and behavior.

These books brought in a small amount of money, but it was enough to keep you going for a few years, until the treatment was perfected. And your health problems were cured!

After months of physical therapy, you had finally decided to go to investigate. It had been years since your husband disappeared, but you weren't going to give up. You packed a bag full of food, water, and various other supplies just in case. You knew that Playtime Co. was abandoned by now.

You began your exploration, and unfortunately got trapped deep in the factory. There was no getting out now, and so you made yourself at home.

You hid in various areas when you needed to sleep. You did, after all, help work on the experiments; this guaranteed that you would have no toy allies. As you continued to explore, you saw recent evidence of human life (referencing the player), but you decided not to investigate. You were on your own mission. To find your husband.

You did find some tapes, but it took you a few days to run into something that could play these tapes. And that's when you learned what happened to your husband. They had turned him into one of them. You heard White and Pierre's voice on the tape. They were behind Sawyer's disappearance all along. The rage and anger you felt was indescribable.

You went back to your hiding place, and broke down in tears. Your love was probably dead at this point. And so began your journey to find a way out. After weeks of surviving, you found yourself in a hallway full of TVs. And the TVs lit up. A singular eye stared at you from each of these TVs.

You ran down the hall, scared for your life. And that's when you heard it. A familiar voice. Harley Sawyer's voice. No, you refused to believe it was him. He's dead.

As you burst through the door at the end of the hall into a lab room, you saw something that made you freeze in place. A tall robot with a TV head wearing a long, black cloak. And this robot turned around and stared at you. Your blood ran cold. So this is how you die. After all this time.

The robot reached a hand out at you, while staring at you with a single eye. And then you heard it again. Sawyer's voice, saying your name. You didn't know where it was coming from. But then you heard it again, as the robot stepped closer. It was coming from the robot.

And then it clicked. This robot was your husband. The tenseness in your body melted as tears streamed down your face. "Harley?" you said in a choked sob. You ran towards the robot and embraced him. Sawyer knelt down and embraced you back.

You two were finally together again. And so began your life living in the factory alongside the man you had married.

Happy Valentine's Day, and I hope you enjoy @star2006mcart! I had a lot of fun writing this one. Again, I'm not really good at writing fics, so I apologize if its poor quality. Credit for divider: @thecutestgrotto

[caycanteven]

Listen... LISTEN...

[bucketsofmonsters]

Deep Water - Part 4

cw: the ocean, animal carcasses, rotting, malnourishment, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 3k

read on ao3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You woke up disoriented on an unfamiliar floor, the steady sounds of snoring filling your ears. 

You turned to see Finn, still fast asleep as you rose from your little spot on the floor. He was bundled up in blankets, his head just barely peeking out of them enough to breathe. 

You didn’t want to bother him. He’d done so much for you, the last thing you wanted to do was to disturb his rest. 

In your attempt to begin to get ready without disturbing him, you managed to get your feet tangled in the loose blankets below you and tumble back to the floor.

You quickly righted yourself just in time to see Finn begin to shift, waking fitfully. 

He groaned, eyes barely peeking open to look up at you. “Is… Oh. I forgot you were here.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He tried to wave dismissively but in his half-asleep state, it looked more like he attempted to clumsily swat a fly out of the air.

He rose from the bed slowly, a little unsteady on his feet.  “I’ll find you some clothes.”

You took him in as he moved to the drawers beside the bed. He was a little scrawnier than the average man working on the docks and only a few inches taller than you, but still, you were sure that his clothes would fit you awkwardly, if at all. “You really don’t have to do that, my clothes are mostly dry now.”

“Nonsense, I have just the thing for you.”

And then he pulled out a dress, a practical one with reasonable skirts and allowance for movement. A dress you’d seen before. 

You reeled back a little as you asked, “Why do you have my sister’s clothes?”

It came out harsher than you’d intended it to. Maybe the shock was to blame, you weren’t certain. 

He deflated at your words, crumpling in on himself, his shoulders slumping as his face fell. 

“I should have told you,” he said, visibly mortified. “I know I should have. You just… you look just like her.”

The realization hit you instantly. “You two were…”

“I wasn’t trying to replace her,” he said, rushing in to cut you off. “I mean, I couldn’t replace her even if I did want to. It was just… it was nice to see you. I could almost pretend, just a little.”

The more he tried to justify it, the more your heart sank. “How long were you together?” you asked, your voice flat and distant.”

“Years. She was everything to me.” His voice was low and sad, sadness that you were sure was for her and not for you, standing betrayed in front of him. Why would it be for you? How selfish could you be?

You almost wished he’d yelled at you. Then maybe it wouldn’t make you feel so bad. He seemed devastated and apologetic and all the things he could be and yet now that you knew you could just tell. You could see him looking at you like you were her, with faux, unearned affection in his eyes behind the heartbreak. 

It made you furious. You wanted to throw something, to shout at him, to demand to be seen as a person, to be removed from her shadow. 

But he was grieving, just as you were. Probably more. 

The least you could to was be kind. 

So you gave him a half-hearted, soft pat on his shoulder and tried to paint as much sympathy accross your face as you could manage.

“You didn’t mean any harm,” you said, and you knew it was true. 

It still stung. 

And then you took the dress from his hands, his grip softening as you reached for it, and you left. 

You found an empty room to change in and went off to work as quickly as you could.

The next few weeks passed quickly, settling into an easy routine. Without Finn hovering over your shoulder as you worked, you were free to move quickly and mindlessly, doing your job exactly as intended and no more. 

You stopped by to see Simon almost every day. The days you couldn’t, held up late at the docks, he no longer threw a complete fit. There was huffing and pouting but he hadn’t kindaped you again and you considered that progress.

In fact, after the stunt he’d pulled, he seemed hesitant to even get near you, like even his presence was tainted now. He was more careful than he’d been, asking before he did anything. 

You supposed it was preferable over the alternative. 

You and Finn had grown distant. He was clearly trying to give you space but you couldn’t quite breach that gap and bring yourself to talk to him so instead you let him fade away, sharing quiet polite smiles when you saw one another and nothing more. Your only real friend here now gone. Other than your monster that you still caught glimpses of below the docks, no matter how many times you warned him that it was ill-advised.

You didn’t mind going to see him. There was very little understanding between you but it felt nice, having him so eager to meet with you every day, shifting uncomfortably in shallow water that he braved for you. 

It had been a bad day. 

Nothing had happened, not really, but that awful ship was back. Every time you saw it, a wave of nausea overtook you, brought back to you kicking and screaming on the deck, inhaling rain as you huffed in breaths. 

Finn had shot you a concerned look or two as he apparently read your nerves off your face, but he had kept his distance, respectful and stomach-churning. 

You wanted him to come check in on you, something he clearly wanted to do, but you still refused to go speak with him first. You couldn’t do it, couldn’t return to him like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, offering yourself as your sister’s replacement if he’d just speak to you.  

So instead, at the end of an awful day, you scurried off the docks to your spot, content that you’d at least get to see your siren. 

On the shore, where you usually sat, lay the tail end of a sea lion, bloody with bones sticking out, looking almost rotted.

You looked into the water to find amber eyes staring back at you, wide and expectant. 

You knew instantly he’d brought it here, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t a fresh kill, instead looking like it had been pulled off a beach somewhere where it’d washed up. 

A sense of shame flickered in his eyes, fighting back a grimance as you noticed it. 

“Do you want it?” he asked, head nodding towards the carcass.

“No,” you said, and he reeled back, not looking surprised but seeming upset all the same. 

“It’s the best I could do,” he said, eyes downcast. “I’ve been trying to find something better but I’m not built for this.”

His voice was tinged in a sense of bitterness and frustration and you wished you knew what he was talking about so you could comfort him. Or at least understand why he was upset. 

“Built for what? Why is this here?”

“It was supposed to be food,” he said with a huff. “I have nothing for you. I can’t provide you anything.”

“Provide me… You don’t need to provide for me, I can get my own food.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I want to… I want to show you I can keep you safe but I can’t. Couldn’t even keep you fed.”

As he spoke, you really took him in, sitting behind a rotting carcass that wasn’t fit for anyone to eat. 

What had he been eating if after weeks, this was the best he could bring you?

And then it struck you, the way he’d begun positioning himself in the shallows, stomach carefully down, arms in front of it, shifted away from you. 

“Come here,” you said, trying to keep your words soft. 

He looked like he was about to cry but he shifted forwards all the same. 

You fought back a gasp as he finally let you get a good look at him. 

He looked emaciated. Where soft, plump skin used to be, it instead had begun to pull taught over ribs that looked sharper than the human ribs you were accustomed to. 

With the new context, you could see it in his face too, his full cheeks beginning to bow in.

“What happened to you?” you asked, cursing yourself that you could have missed this, could have let him keep his distance and hide this from you so easily. 

“I’m not good at hunting,” he said, rufusing to meet your gaze. 

“You were fine before, what changed?”

He shifted and you could see a war waging inside his head, the conflict written accrosss his features. 

You waited, owing him patience at least. 

Finally, he seemed to come to a decision and he spoke, still sad and low but with a sense of finality rising behind it. 

“We’re not hunters, we’re not built for it. Not fast enough or sharp enough. We’re built to lure in prey but… you’re a person. If I hadn’t stopped to talk to you, you’d just be gone, drowned and devoured, and I wouldn’t even have known that it hurt, let alone… I can’t do it anymore,” his words had shifted from sad and low to frustrated and sharp. “I can’t hunt so I can’t eat fish but I can’t do it anymore. Every time I look at them I keep just seeing you.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes at the thought that you had done this to him. The revelation that he’d been eating humans fell by the wayside at the sight of sad eyes on a gaunt face that used to be warm and soft.

And you couldn’t even do anything about it. You didn’t have the resources to get him fish, not after the measly few weeks you’d spent here. You had barely managed to find yourself lodgings in a grimy old inn, barely eating enough to keep up your strength. 

But you had to. You couldn’t just leave him to this, in this situation that you’d dragged him into when you’d gotten thrown off that ship. When on the worst day of your life, he saw easy prey in front of him and decided to be kind. 

And then an idea came to you. An awful idea, sure, but the only one you had. 

You muttered a quiet “wait here” before you stood up and sprinted back to the dock, knowing you had to catch him before he left. 

Finn’s face lit up when he saw you nearing him, relief pulling the tension out of his shoulders and bringing a soft smile to his face. 

You grabbed his hand and with a soft noise of confusion escaping him, you dragged him down to your isolated little spot on the beach. 

The whole time you pulled him along, as he followed you without question, you tried to think how to explain any of this to him. 

You kept moving as you wracked your brains, needing to solve this, needing to know it could be fixed, and you came up with nothing.  

Anything would be better than just bringing him in blind, a fact you realized seconds too late, arriving at your spot on the shore. 

You saw the panic in Simon’s eyes seconds before disaster hit. Right before Finn noticed him, he was being snatched into the water, pale arms hooked under his armpits, holding him down in the shallows. It seemed mainly like shock and confusion that kept Finn down. Submerged in deep water he wouldn’t stand a chance, but here, in the shallows, against a malnourished and emotional siren; he could’ve taken him easily.

But he didn’t, instead thrashing a little with eyes wide and he tried to take in the simultaneous facts that sirens were real and that one had just dragged him into the water. 

“He’s here to help, drop him,” you snapped, shooting a harsh look at Simon. 

“I didn’t even do anything wrong,” he said, a grouchy look crossing his face as he let Finn go, drifting nervously back into the water. You recognized it for what it was. He was preparing for his escape, just in case. 

You didn’t blame him for the instinct. To be honest, it was a good one. Blind trust like that in anyone could get him killed. 

You hoped this wouldn’t be one of those times. You hoped you’d prove him wrong. 

Your hand snapped out to grab Finn’s wrist as he tried to stagger away, eyes wide and frightened.

“Finn,” you said, keeping your voice measured and level. “This is Simon. He’s a friend.”

You didn't think you'd ever seen such panic and betrayal in his eyes, his face normally light and happy. He was breathing heavy, eyes darting between the two of you like he couldn't quite believe he wasn't about to get pulled back in.

Finn looked down at your hand encircling his wrist. He tested his strength against yours, almost pulling away before deciding to let you keep him there. Ever patient, he didn’t take the out, he didn't run. He waited, by your side, nervous but steady.

His breaths slowed, taking stock of Simon in the water.

You weren’t sure who looked more frighted, both sizing one another up, ready to bolt should the need arise. 

You left them to it, terrified that any sudden movement would shatter the tentative peace that was forming between them. 

He nodded slowly, eyes not moving from Simon, shivering slightly in newly wetted clothes. “And why exactly,” he began, eyes locked onto Simon, “did you want me to meet this friend of yours?”

“Um. So he wants to stop eating people,” you said, wincing as you heard yourself and the reality of what you'd just said sunk in.

“He eats people?” Finn asked, his voice spiking up in panic as his head whipped towards you.

“And he would like to stop. If we can’t help him, what do you think he’s going to start doing again?”

“It’s not my fault!” Simon huffed from the water. “The fish don’t hate you for eating them, why do you get to be mad at me?”

“The fish aren’t people,” Finn insisted, arms wrapping around himself as he shivered in the cold air. 

“And you aren’t sirens. I thought you were stupid anyway, like fish.”

“You thought we were like fish?”

Simon shrugged. “Not like fish. But the difference from you to fish is like the difference from you to me. Or… I thought so. We might have been wrong. I don’t know, I just eat.”

He seemed uncomfortable with having to explain himself, shifting in the water as he glanced at you every few seconds. 

It took a moment for you to realize what he was looking for. It was approval, you could see him searching for it in your eyes. 

You weren’t sure you could give it to him. Your stomach churned at his words but you could feel how earnest he was, could hear the confusion and distress in his voice.

He hadn’t thought he was doing anything wrong. Why would he? He was just doing what sirens had always done and now he wasn’t so sure about it any longer and his whole past was filled with deaths he didn’t know if he could justify anymore. 

How would you feel, you wondered, if you met a fish one day and that fish told you it was afraid? If it told you that it told stories to its young about your kind and how they’d snatch it up and cook it over an open flame. 

Would it be your fault? Would those deaths be on your conscience?

Would you ever have the presence of mind to see a fish, alone in strange waters, and save it? Could you even do what Simon had done, take that first step?

Your heart hurt for him, alone in his crisis, with no one to talk to about it. His only options were his kind that depended on these horrible deaths to survive and you. And his prey. 

Finn pulled you aside, far from out of Simon's earshot but it seemed to settle him a little bit to at least feign privacy. 

“What do you want me to do here?” Finn hissed.

“I want to help him. He saved my life and… and even if he didn't, is this not for the best? He wants to do better, we can't just not help him.”

He nodded, hesitant but willing. “Okay, so what now.”

“I don’t know. He can eat fish, we know that for sure. Maybe other food too? Do you think he can eat human food?”

Finn pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I don’t know. How would I know? I guess I can get him fish, we could sneak a couple out and buy some before we leave at night. Would that be enough?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea.”

He sighed. “Great."

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, I just didn’t know anyone else I could go to.”

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s the least I could do. Now, I’m going to go scrounge something up, you keep your little siren company.”

You shot him one last grateful look before settling down on the beach, water lapping at your shoes. 

Simon pulled himself out of the water a bit, trying to get closer to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

You took his hand from where it lay, shifting nervously over some rocks, and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“I know.”

[frango-maconheiro]

i suddenly remembered that one ask about parent vesper today in the afternoon,,, and oh, well, i had a lil' fun imagining single parent vesper who got no other options than to take their kid along.

A few extra white strands of hair wouldn't be that bad, right?

in my view, vesper would be your local expert on sewing and maybe at creating simple stuff, all to try and compensate for the shitty ambient their kid has to be in. Wonderful parent, not so wonderful situation.

i imagine that the kid design would have a few colors change depending on vesper's chosen mask. An example would be like, the apple hair band would become yellow to match the yellowish mask. Also, the mask is made by vesper with wood,,, ok, now my cringe rant has come to an end.

[scrunkly-cherry]

LETS GO BONEHEADS

[davidmonster]

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you..... David Monster

[imtrashraccoon]

I'm feeling down and really tired today so I've been reading some monster x human fanfiction. Anyways, I was suddenly inspired to write something for Nightmare and since my friend @superbfirnacho also seemed to be feeling down lately, I may have indulged in something comfy.

Nacho, I hope you like this, I was tempted to ask first but then I didn't, so... I was really tempted to write more but I didn't plan anything out and just wrote until it ended in a good place. Is it weird that I was also tempted to try and write a crossover that included Aylin meeting Ivy? I'm too tired to try and make that work right now, but I'm not opposed to it!

Cuddles By The Fire: Ivymare

The gentle crackling and occasional popping of the coals could've soothed even the most stubborn person to sleep. However, for a god like Nightmare, he was unaffected by the allure of rest. He could if he wanted to, but often didn't since the time doing so could be used for more productive things.

There was one exception though and she was currently laying asleep next to him.

Her name was Ivy and she was easily the best thing to happen to him in centuries. He wouldn't have thought he could feel any affection for anyone or anything again but lately he was realizing how wrong he had been.

Her bubbly personality and seemingly boundless positivity was mildly irritating, almost like sand between his bones. But it was nothing in comparison to the blazing sunlight of his brother's own aura.

He had pushed her away at first. She was basically the complete opposite to him and yet something about her kept him from leaving entirely.

All beings could experience negative emotions just as they could experience positive ones. He could sense that she was no different, despite how much she tried to hide it behind a bright smile. Maybe that was why he'd persuaded her to join his little crew of misfits.

Or maybe it was because she seemed so familiar... Almost like a long lost friend...

Whatever the reason, he wasn't about to let her leave his side anymore. He wasn't going to let anyone hurt her. He wasn't going to allow her happiness to be snuffed out.

She was a talented healer too. Anyone with even an idiom of mana could sense how powerful her soul was. Some may foolishly suggest that she was a Boss Monster but he knew better. Her strength rivaled that of his own and while he'd never actually inquired, he highly suspected that she was somehow related to a deity. Although, he wasn't sure if she was a god like he considered himself to be or if she had been blessed by one.

Healing wasn't all she could do though. She wasn't afraid to defend herself if anyone was foolish enough to challenge her to a fight. He'd witnessed her put Killer in his place a few times already and likely would again since the skeleton never seemed to learn his lesson.

She was also a skilled botanist and had a way with animals that he'd only ever seen from nature deities the few times he'd ventured into Reapertale. These talents weren't as useful for his work but they occasionally proved handy. It was just one other thing he admired about her since his own corruption didn't mesh well with most animals or plants.

He used one of his tendrils to set aside his journal for the time being and shifted her body a bit closer to him. He lightly ran one of his phalanges over her cheekbones, being mindful not to graze her with his claws and mar her perfect skin.

She stirred and mumbled something unintelligible but he was quick to soothe her back to sleep with a gentle kiss on her forehead. He lived for these rare quiet moments when it was just the two of them.

If his brother ever found about her, he knew that those Star Fools would immediately assume he'd kidnapped her. That wasn't entirely incorrect but it wasn't like she had ever tried to leave either. He probably would've let her, but at the same time, a darker side of him wanted to lock her away and never let anyone even look at her again.

His tendrils unconsciously coiled tighter around her body for a moment before he realized and loosened up his hold so as to not wake her.

She was his.

And he wouldn't let anyone take her away from him. Not again...

[questionable-idea]

i don't get the sexiness of vampires. like i love the wild and free side of werewolves, but to me vampires are just snobby creeps that deserve to be beheaded like the aristocrats they are

[stupidvillainousposts]

Inspired by True Events

Werewolf Stan: *Puts an "Out of Order" Sign on the Bathroom Door*

His niblings, boyfriend, and genius brother: That sign can't stop us because we can't read!

[alexaloraetheris]

I need summer to be over STAT so I can finally get a good night's sleep! This is the THIRD time I've dreamed about something very hungry and with too many limbs crawling in through my window, I NEED to be wrapped up in my blanky real fucking soon before I begin reenacting scenes from Supernatural. And not the gay ones either!

[kainekillinggod]

A Monster and a Lover

"Why don't you fear me?"

"What is there to fear? You simply were not loved properly."

[monsterhunterthings]

Very particular MH Wilds comment:

Why is there no Carbalite Ore in the volcanic area (Oilwell Basin)? This has been the case in most other games, right? I ran around the map for so long I looked it up and went like 🙃

[artistictoon]

Live laugh lesbians

Frost is by crystal on the BlushCrunch server