#I'm not on drugs- I swear

[nemesyaaa]

bones and all au // rafe cameron x reader

summary : “ you're so handsome when I'm all over your mouth. ” strangers by ethel cain.

warnings : if you were not comfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino, don't read this !! mature plot. a lot lot lot of blood. sick and gore attitude. cannibalism used as a form of love. strangers/ode to eaters by ethel cain muse. smut. pomegranate used as a metaphor of cannibalism. jealousy. mentions of organs and anatomy. some b&a refs but you can read it without watching the movie. violence. minors DNI. +18.

author's note : crdits to @starfxkrreloaded for this au. you can reach for her ode to eaters au which is very insane ! please, i know this is very twisted but don't send hate or be mean in the comments. if you dont want to read something like that, it's your right and i respect it, just scroll. to the rest, hope you will enjoy. it's my first time writing something like that so i'm kinda nervous. and by the way, the movie is very beautiful, taylor russell was incredible in this. i highly recommend you.

you lived in an old house in the midwest, the southern gothic type with an empty fridge, broken stairs, carcasses of eaten animals in the garden, a tv too old to be turned on, a radio player too damaged to be listened to , a completely dirty kitchen with dishes full of dishes in the sink, and nasty dirts on the floor. there was also that damn lamp that flickered and came on every other time, that icy water that froze your bones, that cold tiles that creaked under your feets. the windows were rarely open but when they were, the shutters slammed against the wind, your underwear hung over the radiator. but you really liked this place, in fact, it was the only place you could call home without wanting to collapse in tears.

you had your headphones on in that empty quiet space, and a probably dead singer in your ears living through your swaying body. you found this pomegranate on the table while searching. it was intact, still shiny and full of good things.

you didn't need a knife when you had a hungry beast inside you to cut the fruit with your teeths. you had dug your molars inside the seeds, directly into the fresh and virgin skin, opened the eviscerate flesh, tearing away everything you can with your mouth, the still delicious juice ready to feed your thirst and starved your hunger.

you smelled the fruity and juicy scent through your nose, splitted open the pomegranate, discovering the clean and clear inner bones, a pretty red color, even more oozing and sublime than your blood, a perfect complexion reminiscent of the sanguinary meat of your anatomy. your tongue and teeth were sunk in, completely buried in the dripping morsel. your face and cheeks were full of it, shining onto your dirty and sticky fingers. the juice burst, squeezed in your hands as you devoured this fruit, the liquid of which flowed, dripping down your neck and chest, slipping toward your tummy like an unstoppable river.

you were bad as a demon, but nothing stopped you. you bit and bit like a mad dog into the flesh of the fruit like a piece of meat, extracting with your molars everything that you could recover and stuck in your throat.

the more you ate, the more the fruit bled. but you heard nothing, no lamentations. nothing could stop you from eating, from the rage beating. it was sickly, obscene and depraved.

you looked like such an innocent thing, but inside you, there was nothing like that. and you couldn't fool anyone with your tears and your regrets, because you didn't have any.

you had dropped the pomegranate on the ground, there was nothing left except a broken corpse. you had consumed everything from the flesh to the bones, from the skin to every part.

your dress was stained. you stank of pomegranate as much as sin. there was nothing good in you, and above all, there were too many people in you.

rafe had come home in the night while you were waiting in the armchair in the living room, with this juice stuck to your body. you hadn't moved. for some reason you were faithful to your partner. maybe because he scared you, or because you understood that without him you couldn't survive.

he had thrown the key in the table and came before you.

he came toward you in the same state you had seen him for the first time, covered in blood and with glowing blue dilated eyes. you knew that he had eaten, that he had devoured someone because he was not like you. rafe was worse. he understood that nature was to kill but beyond that, it was something he was trying to teach you as your mentor. that we should not regret giving in to impulses, that if we did not listen to them, they would end up killing us.

that we were originally monsters, and that we had to deal with it. you didn't know if he was telling the truth, if he was right. but he was taller than you. you found a maturity in him that fascinated you, that forced you to listen to him.

he had taken off his shirt, and you looked up at his face. he smelled of blood, that strong, metallic smell that you could sniff from several meters away but especially his because you knew him by heart.

“jesus, don’t look at me like that. you wanted to stay at home, i didn't force you to. ”

“it was a girl. what was she like? did you like it ? ”

you didn't know if it was jealousy, or curiosity. you just knew you didn't like knowing he was with some girls even if it wasn't going to last.

with a smirk but at the same time terribly cold face, he answered you. "if you're that jealous, use that energy and mouth to taste it. maybe, you will have some answers. ”

you got up from the chair to join him. you didn't want to share him, even though you knew there was only you in his life. you knew it because since you knew him, he had never talked about his family, nor contacted relatives in the payphone. then, he rarely spoke about his private life. he often made fun of you, because it was more your type of thing to open up about personal moments. you never knew if he was really listening to you but he stayed until the end of your speech.

eagerly, you kissed him, that girl’s blood sliding against your lips, your mouth capturing rafe’s in a kiss, as your cheeks crushed against his bloody face. “ mine, mine.” you whispered, pushing your tongue against his. “ clean that blood, babe. i can't be yours if she's still here. ” he had slipped his hands under your skirt, pressing the flesh of your ass. he had a ring on, the cold metal playing against your skin. you could smell it, just like what he had eaten before coming home.

he sat on the probably moldy and torn couch in your living room, you were almost his height now that you were sitting on top of him. you were hungry, as much for him as for sex. he made you feel so many things, or it was this jealousy, this thirst within you that made you so hungry. you weren’t really sure.

you took one of his fingers still covered in blood, the recent taste of raw flesh now in your cavity. he had pushed his thumb deeper in your mouth, making you suck the pulp properly. the liquid bleeding against your tongue, as his flesh quickly brushed your cavity, your drooling lips curved around him. he pushed it in until he felt your throat.

he was playing with fire, he was playing with you, because he knew you could bite him at any moment but he had also conditioned you not to.

“so, how is it? ”

“nothing tastes better than you.” you simply replied. “ right ? nothing can be as good as me. ” he said in a mocking tone.

he had undone the strap of your dress, revealing one of your tits which he had taken in his palm before taking it in his mouth. your nipple was pressed between his teeth, your skin trapped in his hand as he sucked on your piece of flesh, pinching it only ever so gently in his mouth. he still had remnants of blood, slipping between your body and his tongue.

there was something sensual between this slow sucking, fast suction of the tongue around your throbbing nipple, your spiraling stomach against the void, the movement of his adam's apple in his throat while he tasted every beads of your boobs. rafe was good at it.

he pressed your tits, grabbed them tightly and firmly against his palm, nibbling the tip, caressing the pulp, kissing the flesh. and maybe if he had bitten into it, you would have cum instantly.

his hand was on you, covering your body in blood and sweat, tracing your figure with his soiled and bloody fingers like a canva, letting them run over your skin like a paintbrush.

he was hidden by your sucked breasts. and you wanted him full. you had started to grind against him, even with your underwear separating you from him and his piece of jeans, you managed to be completely soaked on him. your hips moved in motion, lifting delicately like a porcelain doll too afraid of getting hurt.

you were no worse than him, and he was no worse than you. you were both terrible people. there was no hierarchy among people like you.

but the first time you saw him, in that shirt full of blood, with that mouth so red and that oozing dripping neck.

it was dark, but you knew very clearly what he had done, and perfectly well who he had eaten. you had observed it and you had not seen a monster. you weren't afraid.

he wasn't mean and monstruous, just indifferent.

"if you want to eat, that man is still over there." he said simply, not trying to hide or deny what you were seeing.

and you liked it. you instantly liked it.

“ you're the one who interests me.”

“you know the drill, we don’t eat each other.”

“i mean, will you let me come with you?”

"listen to me carefully, i don't have the face of a babysitter, nor the skills to do so. get by, you may be a minor but if you're old enough to do what you do when mom and dad have their backs turned, i swear, you can get through this on your own. ”

“i’m an adult.” you cut him off.

“your age was a nice excuse for me to tell you that i’m not interested. i bet you're an adult. ”

you had followed him when he approached his pickup. "i wouldn't bother you. but i need help. i mean, this is new to me. i don't do this often while you seem to be experienced. i want.. .i want to be like you, not to be afraid of that.”

“what makes you think i’m the right person for this?”

“you may not necessarily be the right person, but you’re the one I want.”

“you know, i already have a lot of problems, i don’t need a burden on all of them.”

“please. i won’t be one. you have my word.”

"you really don't give me a choice. come up crybaby, but if you bother me, i won't hesitate to abandon you, no matter where."

you nodded. it was going back, but in the meantime, you had traveled to many states of america, and probably left a pile of corpses on your way. even though it hadn’t been easy, he had taught you how to drive.

one cold summer night, in the darkness of a tent in the middle of nowhere, you hadn't managed to sleep. but when you opened your eyes, rafe wasn't sleeping either.

“you should sleep, you’re the one driving tomorrow. ”

“you want to know who my first victim was? "

"i guess even if i don't care, you're going to tell me. so go ahead. knock me out, tell me something your little lips haven't told me yet. and don’t say victim, you're much an innocent thing than a killer. but don’t worry, i'm about to raise you very well. ”

his hands had gripped your hips to position you above him. “but for now, tell me about your boring story, maybe it will help me sleep.”

you had told him a lot of your past. the first time you had eaten someone, the babysitter your father had hired who had ended up torn apart on the floor and another part in your mouth. oh it really wasn't beautiful. and this time, in the summer camp where a boy had mysteriously disappeared because you had devoured him in the woods. and that friend at school whose finger you swallowed. it was stronger than you. you needed to eat.

and rafe was the only one to understand it.

the most intimate moments in a relationship should be sex, but for the two of you it was different. it was when you ate together, when you both had blood around your mouth, that you could taste his, and he could taste yours. when there was this connection between you.

he was a different eater from you, he was bestial and cold, sinking his teeth straight into the flesh, tearing off the parts of the body one by one. his bites were mean and cruel. the way, his teeths pulled the organs, the ribcage. you watched him, his hungry raging mouth embracing the darkness of his needs, ripping all the raw meat out roughly. oh the blood, it leaked into every corner of his pretty and bloody lips that you wanted to kiss so badly, to feel the liquid and flesh filling and consuming the space of your throat and your tongue as your body swallowed everything he gave you. oh how much, rafe loved to feed you directly in the mouth, letting you suck the flowing red wet all around his jaw, and down his neck to the cool grass. he was beautiful. insanely handsome. but also, so scary.

his skin was covered in a red, metallic coat. his eyes were consumed with pleasure, while devouring the body of your victim.

he was very different from you, who was more delicate in your movements, or rather clumsy. your bites were messy, your touches lighter, even with the blood all over you.

but it was in those moments that the sex was the best afterwards. when his tongue, still red and famished with blood, circulated over the skin of your stomach, leaving a reddish river against your flesh.

and it went even further than that, when he found himself lost between your legs, his warmth muscle completely buried inside you, lapping your soaked folds, licking you like a starving man, his mouth pressed around your sloppy wet cunt. your juices dripping against his open wided mouth and jaw, the throbbing of your clit against his nose, the way your beating pussy smeared the blood across his lips and cheeks every time he entered and devoured your delicious slick.

since you didn't eat each other, it was your only way to feed him, to make him taste you. you didn't know if he loved your taste but in any case his tongue always came back to find you, to fuck that cunt, lodging itself between your soggy walls.

he forced you to keep your thighs apart, one hand resting on your bruised tummy which contracted every time you felt him on your core.

your legs shaking around his shoulders, the way his bloody mouth nibbled on your clit. you moaned in the middle of this abandoned place. you could shout as loud as you wanted, no one would come, no one would hear you.

you loved feeling his large hands on your bruised skin, especially after eating, because they were dirty and sloppy. you let your tongue clean the blood stuck to his fingers, the drops falling into your mouth.

it was strange how love can be perceived for everyone. ever since you were a child, you have been unable to show affection without hurting people. when you loved someone, it was tragic because you had this need to devour and consume them, to make them a part of you, to make them live within you.

but for rafe, it was different.

you were total opposites. and even though you lived together, you wondered if he felt things for you. if he had ever been in love.

because you liked to think that the way he kept you around, the way he let you stay with him at night, the way he always came home, and was open to doing all these things with you, that was his way to show you that you mattered to him. you even wondered if he came back every night because he couldn't let go of you. yet, at the beginning of your relationship, he wouldn't have hesitated.

here, in this rickety house, you didn't pay rent. it belonged to one of your victims. you always did that, you killed people, and robbed them of their belongings. you took their money, clothes and possessions. you were stealing the lives of these people. at first you felt guilty but now you feel nothing. it was life.

“i love you. ” you told him, as you straddled him on your shared bed, your fists curled in the pieces of sheets. “i really love you, rafe.” you were moaning and feverish, every inch of his thick cock buried in your core, hitting your spot.

while you were bouncing on him, your ass slapped against his muscular thighs. he grabbed your breasts moving over his face, as his dick was ruining you, each of his thrusts destroying your canal. you were as tight as the first time he fucked you in the back of the pickup. he gripped your ass, pinching the flesh.

he wrapped his hand around your throat before losing his face in your neck, his mouth kissing that immaculate part of your body. he placed kisses, before lightly sinking his teeths into your skin, nibbling and sucking on this skin offered to him, while you continued to take him just below him. “yea, you love me. ” with a hard stroke further into you. “still fucking tied to me. ”

and he wasn't wrong, you were so glued to him, completely submissive. he was inside you, filling you completely, every part of his length stuck to your walls, parting your pussy lips, your moans muffled above his head as your arms wrapped around his back. you were desperate and whimpering, the wet sounds of your repeated moans echoing around the room.

you could feel the twitch of his stomach against your skin, the perfect harmony of your two bodies in sync, he speared you violently with his fat cock, let you hear his grunts and heavy breathing against your neck, coming straight from his throat.

you were sweaty and noisy, like one of his victims, but most of all, you were his, his hands all over your body like a prize. every touch was possessive, your head tilted back, and his mouth melted onto your jaw. he fucked you roughly, making you bounce on him and cry.

his blue eyes shone in the darkness of the room. they were on you, in a perfect focus.

“do you love me? " you asked him, your body going through trembling spasms, your skin covering his. you were desperate and suffocating. your breaths were rapid and frantic.

he moved your head with his hand on your throat, his gaze flickering above your collarbones. you felt like you were pretty with the importance his pupils gave you.

you wondered if he had ever wanted to eat you alive, because after all, even if you were an eater, you were still easy prey.

and maybe even sometimes you fantasized about what he could do, because you wouldn't have minded seeing him dug his teeth into your flesh like meat, seeing him consume you one by one, your bones getting sucked, your blood spurting against his tooth.

you would have loved to sacrifice your body to feed him, to be that pomegranate to him, to see him smile through your organs, to see his belly swell because you were in a thousand pieces inside.

you would have loved for him to eat you alive, because you knew rafe would have done it out of love.

“ don't leave me or i will eat you. ” you said to him, his hands brushing your hair like a lover. “ every part of you. like you taught me. ”

“ bones and all ? ”

“ bones and all, my love. ”

and he smiled, fucking smiled all over your kisses, his lips covered yours.

“ then, what are you waiting for ? sunk those teeths in me. scared for what, babe ? nothing that you have not tasted before.”

[maulfucker]

So fucked up that obimaul is a rarepair. What do you mean not everyone is obsessed with enemies to lovers with a Force connection, where one side is completely obsessed with the other who barely acknowledges him (but is just as affected)

[beanghostprincess]

I often use cannibalism as a metaphor for longing and craving because just being next to the one you adore isn't enough. You need to consume them. But I do it in fundamentally different ways with different ships-- Like. Speaking of Zolu, I say Zoro will let himself be eaten out of devotion, wanting to live inside of Luffy, and knowing Luffy worships food as a symbol for life and freedom. Luffy will eat and consume Zoro out of greediness and the selfishness only a pirate can have but also worshipping every part of Zoro. At the same time, he does it because there's just no other way of having him that isn't inside of him forever. He's possessive like that and wants everything Zoro will give him, and Zoro wants to give him everything. While, if I write about Fyolai, I consider cannibalism as power differences and giving up freedom for love. Nikolai views love and sacrifice as some sort of chain that ties him to the world and doesn't let him be free or make decisions of his own, so letting himself be eaten by Fyodor and letting him take over his body is the most romantic and selfless thing he can do, giving up free will for love and the appreciation he has for Fyodor. While Fyodor feels some sort of power and control over Nikolai doing so, it's not only to call himself a god but because it would put Nikolai out of his misery and even if it's a selfish action it is also his way of showing respect and care as he would never let anybody else live in between his ribs. But then again, it could also be the other way around if you stop and think about it. Luffy only being vulnerable and weak around Zoro, realizing he feels safe inside of him and letting his first mate have everything he wants out of his captain. Because Zoro will not take unless Luffy lets him, so Luffy wants him to take and Zoro wants to swallow every bit of Luffy's vulnerability that only exists around him to give him the rest and comfort he needs and act as the anchor that grounds a ship. Fyodor, on the other hand, could let Nikolai consume him as a treat and sign of respect, giving up his superiority to show a bit of vulnerability around the clown but having still power over him. It would not be free will completely but Nikolai would enjoy the freedom inside of the cell he calls love and be free of eating Fyodor as a symbol of worship and almost religious devotion.

[milolovesbmc]

Gruesome Playground Injuries except House is Doug's doctor. That's it. That's the post

[2trentchcoatsinakid]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown & Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Everyone, Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Jason Todd, Batfamily Members (DCU) Additional Tags: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Protective Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake is Bad at Self-Care, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Alfred Pennyworth-centric Summary:

Alfred Pennyworth takes care of his family. Who will take care of him?

[youling-the-ghost]

Titch and James' childhood headcanons because my dumb brain is still obsessing over The Unrelenting Aubergine:

They were raised with the idea that they will one day inherit the farm drilled into their heads. While Titch and James' were allowed to have hobbies and friends, they were constantly reminded that the farm should always be their priority.

Their father wasn't abusive per se, but a lot of Titch and James' emotional issues can be chalked up to the harsh and loveless way that they were brought up.

Once James started rebelling and playing football with his friends, the father started ignoring him and focusing all of his attention onto Titch.

Titch and James were very close when they were children, but they started drifting apart once their father started clearly favouring Titch, eventually leading them to become as good as strangers.

James is the older one. I don't know if this is technically canon (since Old Lady Margaery called Titch "the next in the family) but I just like the idea of James being Titch's protective older brother when they were young.

When they were kids, Titch used to follow James around everywhere because he didn't know how to talk to people. James would introduce him to people and yell at people who would bully him.

James was always vaguely aware that Titch was different, but he never quite understood why until he googled Titch's quirks and "autism" popped up. So long in short, James knew Titch was autistic long before Titch himself did.

Similarly, James knew that Titch was never really attracted to girls, though he never said anything about it. When Titch came out, James had to resist the urge to yell "Finally!" at him.

After James leaves the farm to become a professional football player, he sends monthly postcards to Titch detailing his experiences in the city.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Girl help they want to turn me into a non-synthetic narcotic.

[nekrophoria]

When you hit your 30s and you start looking like a twink version of Rob Zombie in the Dragula vid.

I know man, it's rough.

[fangsup-cobrastyle]

Ok but like... tell me why you would go to an Anthony Green solo show just cause you like MCR - a band that he is not in - and then fucking snicker at everything 😐 I was legit so uncomfortable when I got there because I thought everyone hated me, but it was really just that the people around me were being mean. The only genuine reaction they had was when he played "2022," so I feel like I figured out why they were there, but... why not just go to see Dunes?

Also like. Don't be fucking giggling when a performer says shit like "I wrote this when I was addicted to heroin." What the fuck? 🙃 Who do you think you are?

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Research Rabbit-hole Tag Game!

Another day, another made up tag game.

Rules: As writers, we all end up researching random things for our writing. Share the latest thing you've researched for your fic and tell us something you learned!

No Pressure Tags: @aintgonnatakethis @holy3cake + OPEN TAG!

I researched;

Medieval era medicinal/field pain medication

Something I learned;

Willow bark was the origin of aspirin, and it contains both a pain reliever and other chemicals that aid in reducing inflammation.

Poppies are the origin of many modern day pain meds, as they naturally contain opium.

Meds including morphine, codeine and heroin are derived from the poppy plant, even now in modern day. Synthetic versions include methadone.

The drugs formulated from the Poppy plant are highly addictive.

Those given Poppy medication could end up hallucinating, often having vivid dreams as a result of the drug use. (Poppy dreams)

Poppy seeds themselves do not contain much opium, though eating enough of them can cause a positive result if tested for opioid use, such as when they are used in baking.

"Poppy milk" or "poppy latex" is the name for the whitish liquid that comes from the seed pod when cut, and this is what contains opium.

Both the Poppy and Willow Bark are still used medicinally today.

All in all, very useful information for my whumpy as fuck fic in which pain medication derived from plants was a necessity tbh!

OPEN TAG FOR ALL

[carnival-core]

Hey not to make a political post but does it ever feel like we can just never win and the suffering will be forever and we're always going to have to fight with moments of peace being fleeting and not worth looking forward to

[d0rky-0utfits]

I'm so fuckin skilled it's crazy I finna bust a fuckin fat nut your mouth bruv put you in your place bruv YOU CAN'T beat me BRUV

[miserye]

i'm going to kill who ever came up with this god forsaken stat course

[dilfsuzanneyk]

god what is it about certain rock songs that have you screaming along with the singer with every ounce of emotion in your body until your muscles ache and your voice is hoarse

[fallowhearth]

Lmao, first date back at it, I managed to get the incredibly sweet, adorable 26 y/o bi guy I was with way too drunk because I took him to a bar that does cheap pints and I downed mine like normal and it turns out he's only recently started drinking. I was planning to down like three pints on an empty stomach and take him back to my place because I'm a mole. But I did kiss him. I'm so cancellable right now

[coldshrugs]

urine samples really are so humiliating. i had no beverages before this appointment and literally had to whisper "go piss, girl" to myself to make it happen 😭