#big ol' teddy bear

[salubri-outcast]

I love how the home ec teacher is a massive buff wall of a man. Who wears pink. And loves cooking. And appliques cute mons to his apron. I love this man so much. He's perfect. I'm only a little ways into the game. But amusingly, I see him as 100% straight and cis. He's just a big buff hetcis dude who respects the ladies and makes a damn fine sammich.

[pathetichimbos]

thomas is just a big ass heater. it's unbearable in the summer but when the winter gets real cold there's nothing better than having the large man snore in your ear as he lays all of his weight on you

[tammysart]

headcanon: 'Itty bitty baby' UtRH Robin|Jaylad meets GK 'build like a fridge' Todd.

[theboywithburninghands]

SURPRISE! Two chapters in one day, whaaaaat. Okay so the truth is I had the last part finished in full, but man this is the part I have been WAITING for, man, you have no idea. Uh all credit to @rottentricks of course for this AU, but yeah! Here’s the second part of this behemoth of a chapter. Oh, but warning. It’s violent. Like, quite violent. But sweet.

T/W: Violence, gore, mucus, medical gore, fantasy racism

Animals Ch. 3: Sheep Part 2

Now things are really what they seem

No, this is no bad dream!

—

Zooble and Pomni arrived outside Kaufmo’s house. It was, thankfully, unguarded. The cops really must have been stretched to the limit quelling the protests downtown. Zooble hopped off of ZigZag and tied her off on the nearby fence, taking an apple out of her bag as a reward for her hard work today. She even got an extra apple, hopefully to curb her appetite enough so she wouldn’t eat any of the neighbor’s lawns.

“You be good now, okay, princess?” Zooble said, touching faces with ZigZag. The horse gave a content snort. Pomni hopped off the horse, a little less clumsily this time.

“Alright. So we go looking for clues. We don’t take anything, just make some notes. We should keep our gloves on just in case-”

“‘We?’” Zooble tilted their cowboy hat up. “Nah, I think ya meant you. This was your idea, so you’re taking the initiative. I thought about it on the way over, I’m not risking a B&E charge.”

Pomni frowned. “I thought you said Jax was your best friend. You’re not willing to risk it all for him?”

“Watch it, city girl,” Zooble warned, pointing their hook at Pomni. “The guilt trip card won’t work with me. Don’t forget, you’re a pretty young lady with rich parents who can bail you outta trouble. Me? I’m the weirdo that’s friends with The Autumnvale Cannibal. Cops’ll take one look at me and clap me in cuffs.”

Pomni glared at Zooble for a moment, but her expression softened. They did have a point, given how prejudiced the cops were around here. Still, it wasn’t quite that easy…

“I’m not here for fun, I’m trying to help your friend. My scholarship is at stake if I get caught, so I’ll have to go back home to my family and explain how I lost the one chance to get my MFA.”

Pomni looked down at the snow. “And my parents aren’t that rich… I took out huge loans to get through college, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the assistantship money.”

Zooble looked at Pomni for a long while. Their breath steamed in a consistent pattern, like a machine.

“Can you… can you stop looking at me like that?” Pomni murmured, shrinking her neck down until her chin sat between her shoulders.

“Alright. Here’s my offer. You go in and do what you gotta do. I’ll keep watch out here.”

“Okay. Is there a way you can signal me discreetly if someone is coming?” Pomni asked.

“I’ll have ZigZag whinny.” Zooble replied, petting their horse’s nose gently.

“You…trained her to do that?”

Zooble looked at Pomni, a star of pride in their eyes. “She knows a lot of tricks. Now get going, we’re wasting time.”

Pomni nodded, approaching Kaufmo’s front door. He lived in a condo, one of those situations where a big house was divided into two separate living spaces. Zooble told her Kaufmo lived on the bottom floor, #7. She tried the handle and it didn’t budge. Nah, she couldn’t be that lucky. She glanced around on the front stoop. If she was a little lucky, she might be able to find a hide-a-key. She checked below the welcome mat that read “Definitely Not a Crack House”, then noticed a collection of smooth rocks stacked in a little cairn in the corner. Pomni picked up a few of them, until one on the bottom rattled.

Bingo.

She popped the top of the fake rock open and a key dropped into her gloved palm. She gave a thumbs up to Zooble, who discreetly tipped their hat in response. Pomni slid the key into the door and opened it. She then carefully replaced the key and the fake rock, going inside the anteroom and locking the door behind her.

A set of wooden stairs led up to #8. To her right was the door to #7, which she gingerly attempted to open. It clicked open with no problem.

Kaufmo’s condo wasn’t much. A big hardwood room made up most of the living space, divided into a living room, granite top kitchen and hallway leading into the back of the condo, presumably the bathroom and bedroom.

Pomni took a careful look around. A few gossip magazines on the coffee table, dirty dishes from a days old meal sitting in the sink, the food now caked on and probably in need of a scrub with steel wool. Pretty normal stuff. Altogether pretty clean for a guy that had serious depression. He had a monstera deliciosa in a terracotta pot by the couch that was turning somewhat brown, in desperate need of water. Pomni thought about giving it a quick drink from the kitchen faucet, but remembered she was trespassing and thought not. She moved into the back of the condo.

The bathroom was a little cluttered and the sink had a lot of toothpaste stains on the marble, but it was also relatively clean. She opened the mirror cabinet and found a ton of pills. Zoloft, Escitalopram, Prozac, Xanax, Lithium… yeesh, this guy tried everything. There were some she had never even heard of before. What in the hell was “hydroxizine?” Hm.

She looked down at the toilet and saw it was clogged. The water nearly reached the top of the bowl. Someone might have flushed something they shouldn’t have down there… that, or she was about to make a very bad and very gross mistake. She picked up the plunger sitting beside the toilet, your classic wooden handle and pink rubber affair, and stuck it into the water. After only two or three pushes, she lifted up the plunger, bracing herself for the worst.

Pills. Dozens of waterlogged and half dissolved pills of different shapes and colors floated out onto the surface of the water. Some were plain green circular tablets, some were capsules divided into blue and orange halves, some were bright pink like Benadryl.

Kaufmo appeared to have a full stock of pills in his medicine cabinet, and another full stock of them dumped into his toilet.

Her eye caught something else in the toilet water. Something black and charred. Burnt paper? Something was burned and flushed down the toilet along with a whole pharmacy’s worth of pills. It was impossible to tell what the document was since it was scorched black and mostly dissolved by the water. The toilet, its throat now clear, slurped the refuse down the drain with a sloppy gurgle. The tank began to refill with a long sigh of relief.

Pomni set the plunger back down and closed the lid of the toilet. A clue? Perhaps. But who could-

From outside, ZigZag whinnied.

Pomni’s heart leapt into her throat as she heard cars pull up outside. A large black pick-up and a black van, both with an official looking red, yellow and blue seal on the side. Oh God. Nononono.

She looked around for an exit. The front door was out of the question, but was there a back door? No, she hadn't seen one! Didn’t that violate some kind of fire code?!

A few people in matching blue uniforms exited the vehicles. One of them, a burly blonde woman with a strong jaw, approached Zooble while the others, two men and a bull, came up to the door. She had to find an escape route, or a hiding spot, or-

Window. There was a window! At the end of the hallway, there was a sliding window!

She pulled apart the sunbleached maroon curtains and hurriedly turned the window lock. It had rarely been used and stuck fast, so Pomni had to give it a vicious, adrenaline-charged crank to open it. It finally squealed open with a weak sprinkle of taupe paint chips all over the sill. She grinded the window along its track, feeling a puff of wintry air as she heard boots in the anteroom.

“Alright, you know the drill, guys. Heavy stuff in the van first, bed, couch, tables, tv-”

Pomni climbed and leapt out the window without looking, her purse snagging on the sill and popping open. She fell about six feet and landed on her ass with a thud in the shared backyard, her stuff strewn about everywhere around her.

“Oh, snap. Hey, Cliff. Window’s open. Someone mighta broke in.” a voice said from above her.

“Aw, shit. Someone better tell Charlene. You see anyone down there?”

Pomni scrabbled about, grabbing everything she could that had fallen out of her purse, pencils, bottles of Advil and pads, a notebook for quick sketches, her wallet… she cradled them all and hurried over to the side of the house. Luck threw her another bone, as a strong pine tree had been growing in the backyard for who knows how long. Its branches kept too much snow from falling onto the grass, so there wasn’t quite enough on the ground for her to leave bootprints. She made it around the side of the house, pressing herself against the bricks and panting hard, sending up steam in long jets. She covered her mouth.

“Nah, I don’t see anybody.” someone just out of sight said from the window.

“You think the dude just left his window open?” another voice asked.

“Nah, if he did there’d be snow on the ground in here. Someone prolly climbed in from back here.”

Pomni hurriedly stuffed her belongings back into her purse and crept around the edge of the house. She peered around the corner.

Zooble and the blonde woman were still talking. She couldn’t run out there now, they would immediately figure out what was going on. Pomni took a look at the logo on their vehicles.

TRUSTED REPOSSESSION SOLUTIONS

(TRS)

Repo men. They were just repo men… not the cops. Still, not good. The cops were just one call away, and didn’t repo men work for the government..? One of the men exited the house and said something to the blonde woman, who looked at Zooble with narrowed eyes.

“Case the whole place, make sure nothing’s missing. Thanks, Tyler.” the woman put her hands on her wide hips. “You mind opening your saddlebags?” she said to Zooble.

“Not at all,” Zooble replied.

Zooble opened their bags and took out everything. In one bag, apples and carrots in a Tupperware container and a few road flares. In the other, a bouquet of flowers still wrapped up in shiny plastic and a pretty pink satin ribbon, a few tools for leatherwork, and a bottle of huge pills, presumably for ZigZag.

“What are these for?” the repo woman said.

“I told you, I’m here to pay my respects.” Zooble said. They took the bouquet and laid it in front of Kaufmo’s mailbox.

The Bull repo man lumbered out onto the porch. Pomni only knew it was him since she saw a single long white horn from her hiding place.

“Hey, Charlene, we checked the whole place. Nothing’s missing.” he grunted.

“Nothing’s missing? Really? You checked everything?” the repo lady asked.

“Yup. Tv, desktop, loose change, drugs, it’s all still there. The only thing is… it looks like someone might have used the bathroom.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“It looks like someone might have used the bathroom.” she echoed.

“Yup.” the Bull said.

The repo woman looked off to the side for a minute. She then turned back to Zooble. “Okay. Uh, I guess you’re free to go.”

“Toldja I wasn’t up to anything.” Zooble drawled.

“Nope, I was wrong. Looks like you were just the victim of some bad timing and a crackhead that needed to pee.” the woman said. She looked as though she had never expected to say those words in that order.

“Should we check for anything that got stolen out back, boss?” the bull asked.

Noooo nonono please no…

“Uh….. nah. He didn’t have a grill or anything listed in the inventory.”

Pomni sighed deeply.

Zooble climbed up onto ZigZag. “Good luck with everything, Miss.” They gently flicked ZigZags reins and headed off down the road. The repo woman went into her truck with a clipboard and paper and went inside.

Once they got far enough down the street to see Pomni hidden beside the house, they locked eyes with her. Pomni motioned them to move along. It would still look incredibly suspicious if she suddenly ran around the side of the house and jumped onto Zooble’s horse. Zooble gave the faintest of nods and continued on.

Pomni remained pinned to the side of the house for a good 45 minutes. She couldn’t just run away, it needed to look like she was just a pedestrian… just another passerby on her way, tra la la. It needed to be perfect. She waited until the entire repo team was inside, apparently working on getting the bed frame out of the house, and then she dashed up the hill. She made it to the sidewalk unnoticed, and, just to cover her tracks some more, she walked in the opposite direction of Zooble.

The adrenaline had worn off, and she felt cold to her bones. Standing still for that long in snowy weather was NOT a good time. She sneezed into her sleeve.

“Bless you,” one of the repo men said, carrying out the mattress down the porch steps with his team.

“Thanks,” Pomni replied, sniffling and continuing on in that direction. She didn’t stop moving until she was well out of sight, turning the corner and leaning against a street sign, letting out a long, relieved sigh. She enjoyed the cold sunlight for a few moments before continuing on.

—

Pomni’s watch read 6:07 by the time she had reached the café. Where had the time gone..? She’d gotten up around 12:45, it took her around twenty minutes to get ready, the ride to town with Zooble was another twenty minutes, she ate half her brunch and left with Zooble around 2:30, another twenty minute ride to get to Kaufmo’s house, about an hour spent looking around the house and pinned down by the repo men, and her walk back to town was almost another two hours since she had to find her way through the town streets on foot. It wasn’t a big town, true, but the freezing single digit gusts and heavy snow on the ground slowed her down considerably… 7 would be soon, which was when you absolutely needed to be inside, although it was really recommended you be behind a drop barred door around 6:30, as cloudy or moonless nights make it so some extra hungry Nightwalkers were emboldened to start their hunt a little early. The sky was covered in snow clouds the entire day, so it would be a darker night faster.

Pomni coughed raggedly. Her throat felt raw, her face hurt from chilblains, her lungs felt clotted, and she was exhausted. She had found something resembling two clues, but nothing that incriminated anyone else. All she had really gotten was a nasty oncoming cold.

She arrived at the cafe doors to find them closed and the lights off. Ragatha went home to beat the sunset. It was expected, she had the good sense to not risk his own life. But man… she’d been hoping to warm up at least a bit before the long walk home.

She trudged home. The sky was turning a pleasant shade of pink. Would have been more pleasant had she not been freezing her ass off. She just wanted to lay in bed by the radiator. It had been an awful day.

Zooble was right. She was just a stupid city girl. The college was paying her to draw fucking pictures, for God’s sake. What the hell could she accomplish out here?! She was wasting everyone’s time… her parents and the townsfolk’s. And her own.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment, slowly. As she arrived at her door, she leaned against it let out a protracted sigh, followed by a nasty cough. She leaned over the railing and spat the gunk she coughed up out onto the snow.

She heard something. Was her phone ringing? She pressed an ear to the cold door. Yeah, her phone was ringing. Probably her parents. Great. She opened her purse to get her keys, content taking her time and letting it go straight to voicemail. She didn’t want to talk right now, or do much of anything right now.

Her keys weren’t in her purse.

“Huh..?”

She patted her puffer jacket’s pockets and her fleece. Empty. What the hell, what had happened to-?!

Oh god.

When she jumped out the window. Her purse opened. Her keys must have fallen out. They were miles away, buried under snow, and the sun was setting.

“Oh no… no… no God, no, NO!”

Pomni hurried to the stairs. Okay, calm down. Calm down! if she sprinted across town, she might be able to make it back to Kaufmo’s house in time to grab her keys. They were probably right under the window where she fell, blending in with the grass or an errant drift of snow. She would just run, run like her life depended on it, which it did! All she had to-

When her boot hit the second step, she slipped.

Her stomach squeezed itself into a ball and she let out a shriek, falling sideways. Her right arm slammed into the stairs, blocking any blunt force trauma to her ribs but in turn ripping open the skin under her coat. Her forehead scraped the freezing concrete and her beanie fell off as she rolled over twice, the sharp edges of the stairs narrowly missing her spine but in turn slicing her back as she rolled out onto the snow.

Pomni laid there for a moment. Slowly, she let out a long, pained, howl. Pain bloomed fiery red on her right arm, her forehead, and her back. She felt sticky hot blood weeping out of her forehead, sticking to her bangs and nearly getting in her eyes.

She tried moving her hurt arm. It wasn’t broken but it flared with pain the moment she moved it. Even with her body going numb from the snow, it hurt in the same burning hot way rope burn or road rash felt, like it would never go away and that all your nerves had been grated off and screamed together in agony. She feebly rolled onto her hands and knees, blood dripping from her head in dark beads onto the snow. She felt tears spill out of her eyes and snot run out of her nose.

There was a sound beside her. She looked. She stopped crying.

A beast laid not 20 feet away from her. It was almost completely camouflaged by the darkness save for a pair of white, foglike eyes, teardrop shaped and running the entire length of its bulky, Bull terrier-like skull. Its body was slim, almost disproportionately so to its head, with long, curved legs and hooved feet. It looked at Pomni with tranquil hunger. Upon Pomni making eye contact with it, the Nightwalker rose to its feet, padded silently over to the girl, and sank its teeth into her side.

Pomni let out a scream, shock having melted away into primal terror as the Nightwalker bit into her torso. Her multiple layers only halted the blunter of its teeth, its two front canines cutting through the fabric like garden shears and plunging into her belly. Pomni drove her fists into the Nightwalker’s head, the creature hanging on, nonplussed. It attempted a deeper bite only for Pomni kick it hard in one of its legs, causing it to stumble onto the snow and let go for a moment. Threads of white polyester clung to its bloody fangs. Pomni scrabbled backwards, her body being practically unable to process the level of pain it was currently in. If she could stand up, she would have just fallen right back down as her legs felt boneless. She was dead. She was going to die.

The creature licked its chops free of blood and fluff before padding its way towards Pomni, in no particular rush. It made no sound as it attacked, not even a growl of effort or surprise at being knocked down. It was as unfeeling as the blackest, coldest winter night. And it wasn’t done with her yet, no sir.

Something glinted in the air. The Nightwalker froze as a wet shluck sound cut through the snowy wind. It stumbled over, twitching and confused, unaware of why it suddenly had such an awful pain in its side.

A butcher’s knife was buried up to the handle in its hairless black abdomen. Pomni screamed again as an enormous beast on two legs thundered through the snow at them, eyes glowing with yellow moon malice. The Nightwalker opened its maw in feeble resistance as the beast skidded over to it, grabbing the knife and pulling it all the way down across its belly, steaming black entrails shlorping onto the snow as its skin and muscle were peeled away by hairy paws. The Nightwalker dropped its head onto the snow, its eyes dimming like a dying lightbulb. Dead.

Pomni felt her consciousness fading as well. Soon, the beast would fall onto her too, digging into the wound in her side with its paws and ripping her open like a gory birthday present. The last thing she saw before everything went black was that horrible pair of yellow eyes, looking down at her, furious, hungry…

…concerned?

—

Autumnvale had it out for Jax since he was a baby. Nothing in life was ever just given to him, he had to take it. He had to chew off the hands that abused him, and if that meant losing any chance at going to school with “normal kids,” fine by him. He only liked his parents and Zooble anyway. Everyone else thought he was a freak and a monster.

So that’s exactly what they got once he reached adulthood. Jax played into the monster persona, snapping his daggerlike teeth at anyone that came too close, enjoying his meat bloody and raw and sometimes live in front of horrified socialites, hiding in dark corners so his piercing, lupine eyes glinted at passerby and terrified them about walking the town’s streets at night. He didn’t try to act pleasant, because that got him nothing. Just frightened looks at best, slurs and insults at worst. At least being a monster made people leave him the fuck alone.

So it was no surprise, really, that someone in town decided it was time to put him away for good. Even if he hadn’t done anything wrong, the faintest whiff of trouble on his part would cause the cops to jump on him like a pouncing tiger. Cut out the benign tumor before it ruptured and becomes malignant. It was a clever little trick, using one of his knives to cut Kaufmo’s arms. Probably didn’t even need to actually kill Kaufmo, someone probably just found him in the tree and slit his arms open. Any excuse to get Big, Bad Jax off the street.

What was a surprise, however, was when the Sheriff came to his cell late that evening. Posturing little twerp that he was, the Sheriff liked to make himself look like a tough guy by wearing shades and a cowboy hat. It made Jax snort derisively every time he saw him. “Lookee me, mommy! I’m a big boy in a big hat!”

The Sheriff looked the color of sour milk, and his hands shook as he fumbled with his keyring to open the door to Jax’s cell.

“What’s the occasion? You wanna play with the bunny, copper?~” Jax purred, showing off his fangs.

The Sheriff opened the door, stepping back and quaking with either rage or fear or a concoction of both.

“Your bail’s been posted, Kingston. You’re free to go.”

Jax’s smile fell. “Someone paid half a million? On me?”

“That’s what I just said, now get outta here. We’ll return your belongings up front.” The Sheriff barked.

Jax didn’t move. The sheriff smacked his nightstick against the bars.

“Get going! I’m tired of looking at your ugly face!”

Jax thought it was a joke, a pretty predictable one too, but, against all common sense… it wasn’t. Someone anonymous had posted his bail, and he was soon up front of the police station, getting all of his belongings back and signing release papers. He didn’t have much on him when those dick-swinging big city detectives rolled up to arrest him, just a knife he was using to make beef pork chops and his keys. The cops undid his handcuffs and he was led outside.

It was around 6:15, so that crowd that had been yelling about letting him go all day had been sent away to avoid the Nightwalkers. Thank god. All those people cheering for him would have made him berserk. Even his dad wasn’t waiting for him, but he didn’t hold it against him. He was getting up there in age, and Nightwalkers could probably make quick work of him now. Maybe the cops just… didn't tell anyone he was getting out tonight. That wouldn’t surprise him. Jax took a long, deep breath, savoring the fresh, cold night air, before tucking his hands in his pockets and heading down the road out of town.

He had only one stop to make before he went home. That girl he met just before the gumshoes showed up. What was her name? She either didn’t tell him or only told him once. He remembered where she said she was staying. That teeny little apartment on the edge of town. He wanted to pay her a visit.

She intrigued him. She was one of the few people that wasn’t terrified of him right off the bat. He wanted to at least say thank you in person for sticking up for him like that. Zooble would’ve done the same, but they had been friends for two decades. The Girl only met him for a few minutes and wanted to help him. He wondered what it could have been?

Perhaps she was intrigued by him too.

It wasn’t until he got about halfway up the road by the farms, the sunlight gradually fading out from pink, that he heard a high pitched scream. He normally wouldn’t care about some idiot staying out past curfew ‘cause they thought they were invincible. But he only knew of one person who lived out in the boonies like this who might get caught by a Nightwalker.

He ran, pulling his knife out of his pocket, towards the noise.

—

Jax carried The Girl on his shoulder, moving as quickly as his legs could carry him. He knew there would be more Nightwalkers. There were always more Nightwalkers. But, he knew this town like he knew meat; exactly where to cut through.

At the end of the road, he slid down into the gully where Snapfinger Creek ran. There was nowhere for any of those things to hide down here, and if you were fast enough, which he was, it shaved off about ten minutes of time you might waste taking the main road. The water was soaking his boots, yet he kept on moving. His fur would delay the onset of chilblains long enough for him to get home and warm up. More importantly, so she could warm up.

The Girl was conscious, but barely. Her body trembled, presumably both from shock and from cold. She didn’t have any broken bones, but there were some nasty scrapes on her arm, her head and her back, and the Nightwalker took one hell of a bite out of her side. He could smell the blood. They normally went right for the head with those big-ass mouths of theirs… she got lucky for getting so unbelievably unlucky.

Soon enough, he reached the end of the creek at Snapfinger Creek Bridge, clambering up the hillside and onto the bridge. He sniffed, testing the air for the smell of blood and dark.

Nothing. Just The Girl’s wounds. She was sticky against his shirt. Normally the scent of blood made him hungry, since it meant fresh meat, ready for the cooking. Right now, it just made him scared.

He went back to running, keeping his eyes peeled at all times. Full dark had only just fallen, so The Nightwalkers probably hadn’t had the chance to group up in their little herds. Good. If The Girl had been out around ten or eleven, they all would have pulled her apart like a chicken wing.

He eventually saw the worn-out old roof of his barn, his animals would need food… But they could wait. They had some leftover food in their troughs, The Girl needed to be patched up or she would die. He hurried across his pasture, plunging his hand into his pocket and pulling out his ring of keys. Propping The Girl against his shoulder and holding her fast with his chin, he found his house key whilst moving. He felt hard-packed dirt under his boots, and knew he had found the path to his house. It had snowed a good deal, but not enough to completely hide the earth beneath it. He came up to his door, unlocking it swiftly, slipping inside and slamming the door shut, pulling down the drop bar.

He flicked on the lights. His house was only a touch warmer than the outside due to him not running the furnace for nearly two days. Warmth could wait, wounds needed sealing now.

The hospital was the better choice if he wanted The Girl to live, but it was a much longer trip, which meant more time for the Nightwalkers to come out. He was tough, yes, but he wasn’t tough enough for a herd of them. And it would just delay The Girl getting help long enough for her to bleed to death. He held The Girl under his chin again and pulled a blanket out from the trunk at the foot of his bed, one that had become weathered and a little smelly over the years. It was white with blue and black stripes, he couldn’t even remember why he had it. No love lost if The Girl bled all over it.

He flipped it open and laid it out on the floor, gently laying The Girl down on the blanket, supporting her head as he did so. Her mouth hung open and she trembled. Her chest rose and fell. Her puffer coat had a massive hole in the side with polyester wisping out of it, her hat was missing, and the white fleece she wore was soaked and scarlet.

“Okay… I’m doing this so you live.” he said to her. He undid her jacket and fleece, leaving her in just a torn open black shirt and snow pants. He gulped and gingerly lifted the shirt off of her belly, it clinging to her body before peeling itself free. She had a large set of bite marks in a sideways “U” shape along her side. Nightwalkers only really punctured with their top teeth, the bottom more used to hold prey in place so they could drink their blood. Most of the top teeth only scraped The Girl’s skin, but the canines got her good. They left deep punctures on her belly. It hadn’t gotten through her stomach lining, thank god, the sepsis that would cause would have been hellish agony for The Girl. Lines of blood and pinkish pus oozed from the punctures, and these were clearly her biggest predicament at the moment.

“Clean them and patch them. Then she’ll be okay.” Jax said to himself. He went to his bathroom and grabbed his first aid kit and a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. It was half empty and hadn’t been used in maybe a year. But it was still alcohol. He found a washcloth, a clean one, and doused it in the alcohol.

“Okay. Sorry in advance.”

He gently swabbed the cloth in the deepest punctures, scooping out blood and pus. The Girl let out a burbly cry and convulsed, Jax touching her gently on the side of the face.

“Shhhhhshshsh, I gotcha I gotcha I gotcha, I’m makin’ it better…” Jax crooned. The toothmark he cleaned out was a clean pink for a moment before it bloomed red with fresh blood. That was good, all the infection was out and now the body was working to patch itself up. He found some gauze and gently packed it into the wound, The Girl mewling in the back of her throat.

“Shhhhhh, I know, I know… I know it hurts, but I’m makin’ it better…”

He covered the packed wound with one of those big fat square bandages. Now onto the next one. He rinsed the washcloth free of blood and discharge in his bathroom sink, wrung it out, rinsed it again, wrung it and reapplied more alcohol.

“Okay, here we go… last big one.” Jax said as he came back to The Girl. He gently scooped the wound clean. This time her eyes opened and she gasped sharply.

“Hhhurting me…!” she slurred.

“I know, but I have to, I’m cleaning your bite… you’re lucky to be alive…”

Jax startled himself at how soft and delicate he made his growl of a voice sound. Did he really care all that much about this girl..?

“Where’m I…” the girl slurred, her voice frail.

“My house. Do you remember me? I’m Jax.”

It probably wasn’t a good idea to mention that he was the town butcher, as in her delirium, The Girl might think he meant that he was going to butcher her.

“Jax…?” she mumbled.

“Yeah. Jax Kingston. What about you?” he asked. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember that if she had already told him.

“Pom… Pomni… aren’t you s’posed t’be arrested.. ooooowwwww…”

She let out a moan of pain as Jax packed the other wound with gauze.

“Pomni. Sorry, that’s the last one, I promise.” he soothed, putting another big bandage over it.

Pomni coughed hideously, clutching at her stomach in pain.

“Hurts so much… cold…”

“Okay. I can fix the cold part at least. Just let me-”

“C-C-Cold… please no more…”

Alright. The biggest wounds were patched up, she was freezing. He scooped her up, leaving his medical supplies behind, and went over to his bed. He wrapped her up in his quilt, only her head being visible. He let her lay swaddled for a bit as he got a fire going in his hearth. He hadn’t gotten too much new firewood, but it burned okay. He picked her up again, unwrapping her from the blanket and putting it around both of them, making sure she was close to him. She really was freezing, any longer out there and she might have gotten hypothermia…

He sat in front of the fire, her in his lap. She laid against him, shivering. Eventually, the shivering became less severe. The warmth of the fire and his fur was finally starting to work.

She coughed again and whimpered with pain. Jax ever so slightly tightened his grip.

“I gotcha.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I gotcha…” He felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, not just from her gradually returning body heat. He kept wanting to tell her that he had her, that she was safe. Even if she didn’t answer back.

Tomorrow he would take her to the hospital where she could get real help. But right now.

He had her. She was safe.

[hazey-moonlight]

"Peace is the ultimate punk revolution, where love overpowers hatred, and strength lies in understanding and acceptance."

-Moup

Moupeth Doodlesnap is the childhood friend of Meeptah Moonsmoke. He's 27 years old and is bisexual.

He is a drummer and a singer, he plays other instruments as well.

He's a bigger build and about as tall as Wambus. He's only got those two sharp teeth sticking out when his mouth is closed. His hair can be any colors and any style, as long as it's short. Despite how spikey he looks he's actually very soft.

He cares deeply for Meeptah and doesn't care for Floofty, since their winning Meeps affections.

His intense, smoldering eyes hold a glint of mischief, keeping others guessing about the secrets hidden behind his punk facade.

But beneath the exterior lies a heart as tender as a melody.

He fiercely protects his friends and loved ones, always ready to offer a listening ear or a helping hand.

His aloofness often melts away when spending time with those he cherishes, revealing a vulnerable side that contrasts his tough exterior.

Despite his affinity for punk culture, Moup is a deep thinker and an artist at heart. He channels his emotions into his music, filling the room with raw energy every time he picks up his guitar. His lyrics often echo the struggle between the chaos of their genre and the sensitivity within, blending vulnerability and rebellion into harmonious chaos.

Original design by @flooftyfizzlebeans

[brutalmasks]

psst... bunny mask may be viewed as slightly annoying whenever she gets attached to people, because she likes following them around / ' coincidentally ' popping up in places that they're in at the same exact time as them, but i don't think that she means to be at all. she may just be a littleee clingy, but whenever she does do thing's like this, it's not to be creepy but to demonstrate her love for her friends / found family / whoever the person may be to her. which i think is very funky fresh of her. bunny mask may just needs to learn that having boundaries in relationships is a good thing and that some people really need their personal space.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Too tired in my brain to write. Tired of nothing ever going right in my life.

No matter how much caffeine I drink, I still can't find the energy to write.

I just want to watch the Texas Chainsaw Massacre on loop and imagine getting all the hugs from Bubba.

Hopefully by next week this will be over. I'll find energy to do something. Stories will resume.

[mrsoharaa]

I was reading something about bathroom aromas and immediately my mind thought of bathroom sex. I guess I'm thinking with my enraged hormones (pussy) instead of my head.

[that-glitter-chick]

Armon was sweet, powerful and had a joyful personality.

He lost his arm serving his country in the Pharaoh’s army and was rewarded with an enchanted golden arm. Unfortunately, when revived as a Mummy in the 90s, he could only utilize the arm when he summons his armor, the rest of the time he has to make due with only one.

He was voiced by a real life stage magician, which was funny to me because Armon was constantly asking Rath how his spells worked and being told they were far too complicated to try explaining. Lol!

His armor was Ram based, I’m not sure which god that was supposed to be patronized by. Maybe Khunm?

[hopefuture]

Clark gives the best hugs. Depending on the person it is either be a reassuring gentle yet firm hug or he can go full bear hug complete with a back rub and pat

[camping-with-monsters]

Beware! For just beyond the taller trees and thorny bushes lurks a dangerous and terrifying entity known simply as… The Beast!

Yikes, even muttering the name manages to chill a spine! This dastardly Beast is spoken to be quite the monster. A bear-like face with glowing evil eyes, a pair of tusks that pierce from the sides of it’s mouth, a long hairy body that trails when it runs, and to top things off, it even has razor sharp bear traps for hands! What a horrible sight indeed! You’d best tread carefully if you find yourself in the quiet ends of Whistlegrimm, for if the breeze around you suddenly comes to a halt, and you feel the hair on your neck stand, you bet that The Beast is already on your trail, and it’s recommended you start hauling now. Most of the time, it’s very secretive in its tactics. Despite being such a hulk of a creature, it trails softly through the underbrush, already deciphering exactly what angle is the only one you won’t look before it pounces and roars— and you better believe it— it’s got one mighty roar! The kind of shrill grumble that will have you quaking and scurrying away faster than you can even perceive it’s already daunting stature!

Not many know of The Beast’s origins. Some say the heart-shape pattern on its head bears a mystical power to read the minds of feeble minded victims. But whatever its deal is, it gets a pretty hefty rep when it comes to putting on such a scene. But that ol’ Beast doesn’t seem to have a care in the world about the reputation. All good beasts are feared— it’s exactly what this Beast wants! To get a reaction out of unsuspecting passersby who happen to linger right into its teeth. But should someone manage to find themselves paralyzed and unable to make a getaway in time before it gets close enough, they may be graced to hear one last thing… its mighty laugh as it seems to taunt your terror. It’s then and only then this creature’s truth is revealed.

For this Beast… is only a facade.

BEHOLD! The Beast unmasked and exposed to truly show the real nature of such a character! A true trickster at heart, Goldilocks, the real name of this falsified foe, is only here to make some noise!

Though hardy, she’s actually a good-hearted goofball who’s got a knack for pulling elaborate stunts to get some good reactions— but to her, it’s all in lighthearted fun! With a giant mop of hair stretching long and far— quite similarly to Rapunzel, actually— this eccentric gal has figured out how to use her own head to create the perfect costume, figuratively and literally. Taking on a bear-like disguise in the hopes of making some tomfoolery, Goldi loves to trot aimlessly and listen for a wandering soul to joke around with. It’s really up to the eye of the beholder whether this elaborate stunt is truly witty, or way extra, or whether the fun can be appreciated or is taking things too far and really creating too much of a scare. Miss Goldilocks would digress. She both loves the persona for its scaring potential and makes her feel closer to nature and all its kindred.

It’s hard to say whether those bear trap cuffs around her are even real bear traps. She’s a tinkerer, so it can only be assumed that the lot of her props are all handcrafted by her’s truly. Quite the designer, and very efficient at making things seem all the more authentic. Perhaps those “bear traps for hands” are simply just stilts made to hoist herself upright and run on all fours easier. Or maybe they are? We just don’t know. But regardless, even if she gives you quite the spookin’, it’s important to remind yourself that she bears no ill intent— the woman probably couldn’t even hurt a fly. At least, not intentionally, of course. Having a lot of body strength and being all rough and tumble is bound to leave someone out of breath if they can’t keep up with her. Gonna have to take someone without a pair of lungs, or hell, a need for breathing at all to match this gal’s energy…

——

I originally told myself I wasn’t going to create a Goldilocks based character cause I wasn’t sure how I could outdo her portrayal in Puss In Boots: The Last Wish. And then an idea (initially sparked to me by @menthum-mint) and my own creativity inevitably got the best of me with this one :)

And honestly? She might be one of my favorite designs in DDG. When I tell you this character was in design hell for a while, and that I jumped some hurdles to get this character to work in terms of making her feel authentic to the cast (cause the original concepts did something very different with the hair), it was a doozy getting her to work. In the end, I settled with… character who’s anatomically her own quadsuit. I… yeah! That’s certainly a way to describe it!

[bluebellhairpin]

Gang Orca: Looks terrifying, looks prepared to kill a man

Me: Is... for me? 🥺👉👈

I WANT TO KISS HIM maybe that'll calm him down ☺️🥰

🦂

no but literally, ONE kiss from you is enough to completely give him a 180 change, especially if he feels upset. yk how he's ranked up among the heroes who look most like villains? yeah well that virtually goes away the moment he starts DATING you, let alone what hapens after you're married - the public starts to see the side of him u always saw <3

[satorisoup]

wishing a happy valentine’s day to my cutesie lil mooties and my lovely followers!!! EEEP givin all of u smooches right now :3 <3

[illithidprone]

@a-crookedtouch liked this for a lil thing!

"I've been waiting a long time for you." Halsin's grin echoed his relief upon spotting the other, arms outstretched for the briefest moment in a welcoming gesture before falling back to his sides.

"If I may ask, what exactly kept you so long? Are you injured?"

[lanternlightss]

head empty only “want to kiss nameless bard on the forehead” thoughts

[brutalmasks]

How does one attract Bunny Mask's attention (be it good or bad?) Is she inclined to help people as much as she is to hurt criminals?

good evening, @oculusxcaro! it's always nice to see you on my dash / notifs (: your questions are just the BEST, honestly! i'm really glad you asked because this gives me a chance to talk about the snitch, which is another being in the same universe that bunny mask is a part of. the snitch is very appropriately named, as essentially what this spirit has taken charge of is providing both humans, and sometimes even other deities with all of the darkest secrets that may lie within another person. they do this telepathically through whispers in a person's head whenever he, quote unquote, ' connects with someone. ' although it is usually crime-related, if the person in question that the snitch is talking about has not committed any crimes, then this darkest secret would probably manifest as the worst thing they've ever done. however... the snitch also has made a map of sorts related to these people's secrets and since bunny mask has been connected to that deity, she can easily access this map and find out who has committed illicit acts, such as murder or kidnapping. thus, this is primarily how she targets the people she kills for purposes of avenging someone / a creature, or potentially saving them from being hurt.

she also does a good deal of her own investigating, however, and has learned how to proficiently tail someone + gain information about them ( she likes to listen to police radio sometimes, as well as go to bars that are notoriously frequented by criminals, as well as contact information brokers if she just manages to see suspicious activity while she's out ) while walking the earth once more. so whenever she is stuck without any people to avenge / punish those who are about to hurt someone... bunny mask will simply only use her own wit and skills to find out whether this person has truly committed a heinous act or is about to. but anyhow, whenever it comes to whether bunny mask is inclined to help people as much as hurt criminals: the answer is a resounding yes. she is constantly striving to try to help humanity through both bigger and smaller ways, whether that be helping to get a person out of a dangerous situation even regarding something like nature ( which can often not be controlled. think of like an extreme snowstorm, a rockslide, a fire starting in a forest that has people nearby, etc. ) and helping to comfort someone who seems to be on their last leg in regards to life.

i believe that, at her core, bunny mask often has good intentions and has a good heart as well. but she is also absolutely unforgiving and the way in which she punishes people whenever it comes to those have willingly committed crimes can sometimes be terrifying. what i am trying to say is, she is as much of a protector as she is an enemy to criminals. that is actually one reason behind why she does what she does: to defend the goodness in this world from harm and give people hope that someone is looking after them. but of course, this also applies to animals, too.