#blood mention

[ghosts-selfshipping]

Any of my doai F/O’s would LOVE to be covered in blood :>

[iwander12]

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[mintytea-exe]

what a happy and fun episode !!

[wolfertinger666]

it's kinda crazy how I wasn't supposed to exist,,, as a baby i was born with a blood disorder so I needed a blood transfusion but thankfully the doctors found a way to save my life without needing to use blood. although it's upsetting the reason why I never got the transfusion is because my mother's "religion" is against it and I could've actually died.

[whumperofworlds]

Me, coming out of the room covered in blood: You should see the other guy.

The other guy: *bound, gagged, beaten, and chained to the wall, crying*

[selineram3421]

*a lot of readers loving this fic* Daaaang.

Hissy Kitty

Part 5

Part 4

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ deer man still trying to stay in denial, blood/gore, Italics= thoughts, partial nudity mention, Bold= time shifts, gif is reader's shadow form. ⚠

Alastor felt like he was at the end of a shotgun barrel.

He froze, his hands shaking slightly and his undead heart thumping rapidly.

Quite a daring thing to say...

Husk stared at him in slight shock and something else. Something that the deer demon couldn't decipher. The two stood still, not moving an inch, just watching who would make the first move. Almost like an old west duel.

Finally, after a long silence, one of them spoke up.

"Leave them alone."

In all honesty, the cat demon had no idea what to do about this...situation, but he knew the Radio Demon. His boss was nothing but a cruel, insane, egotistical man who wanted power and control.

"I don't give a shit about what you do to me, but I know if you hurt me, they'll hate you.", Husk said before turning to leave the radio tower. "Whatever thing you've got? It's best to get rid of it now."

And with that, the feline left.

Now Alastor was alone, just like he wanted but he couldn't get rid of the thought of what the ex Overlord had said.

He couldn't deny it any longer.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair before making his way over to his chair.

I'll avoid them like the plague... He decided.

He stayed away for two weeks.

Leaving a room whenever they stepped foot inside, staying in his room, office, or radio tower when he didn't know where they were in the hotel.

And then something snapped.

The thought was screeching in his mind, clawing at his chest, a never ending cycle of want.

He had to-

No.

Needed to tell them.

Maybe confessing would help stop that feeling.

With the last of his sanity, Alastor stepped out of his radio tower and went to search for them with the help of his shadows.

.

You were confused at first by the absence of the red dressed demon but thought nothing of it since your brother seemed happier.

Charlie had given you the new job of welcoming new guests at the front desk but well...its been very boring.

No one checks in.

Like at all. The demons that do come in ask for directions and then there's Cherri Bomb, Angel's friend who stops by for a second or two. So, you spent most of your days talking to your brother at the bar, leaving a "ring the bell for assistance" sign at the check-in counter.

You held a glass of very diluted iced catnip tea, your brother made sure to make it that way so you don't run around the hotel like last time.

"Ugh.", you hid your face in embarrassment.

I can't believe Husk planned that. That jerk! You sighed. I did enjoy the nap after though..

Then your thoughts continued until it wound up to the last conversation you had with your brother about the red dressed demon.

After telling him what happened, Husk stood up real quick and said he'd be right back. Then he came back with snacks and his poker face.

What your brother doesn't know is that you can actually read his poker face. It's very, very faint, but his ears give him away. Depending on the way that it flicks, you can tell how bad a situation is.

And his ear flicked back twice.

Which means he doesn't like the current cards in his hand.

What did he get? You wonder and sip your drink.

Some more time passes and the next time you see Alastor in the same room as you is when the King comes to visit the hotel.

Keekee is in your arms and hops out once Lucifer stops hugging Charlie.

Things take a turn after some random flapper shows up and then there are shark sinners.

"MY WINDOWS!", Nifty screeches in horror.

It goes to shit really quickly, everything is too loud, everyone is running around and trying to stay out of the shooting range of the flaming boulders, and you were overstimulated with all of the things happening at once.

"GET BEHIND THE COUNTER KIT!", Husk grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you towards the bar.

You make a face once seeing the flapper, the reason loan sharks are attacking the hotel, is hiding behind the counter.

"Oh fuck this.", you sigh and walk away.

No wonder your brother said not to come here.

Its too loud..

The banging on the door didn't stop until the Radio Demon stepped out and the screams took over.

Too loud.

"I will devour each and every one of you!"

You covered your ears in pain, wishing you brought your headset.

"ITS TOO FUCKING LOUD!", you yell out.

.

Alastor reminisces when these feelings solidified.

It was when Lucifer and Mimzy showed up at the hotel. He had his fun messing around with the King, making the short blonde feel jealous.

Then Mimzy barged in, which is not a surprise, and started chatting up with the others.

What annoyed him was when Husk mentioned the deal that he, the Radio Demon, had made. Reminding him that he too needed to stay within range so his collar didn't choke his neck.

Then after taking care of Husk, he made his way downstairs to take care of Mimzy's mess.

And that's when it happened.

As he was ripping apart some of the loan sharks, he heard screaming from inside the hotel. Turning to deal with the ones that managed to slip past him, he finds a shadow creature with multiple eyes dragging the left over sharks into the darkness.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no! AH-!", a shark screamed before the shadow tore open his stomach and ripped out his intestines.

"Kit! You gotta calm down!", Husk yelled out.

"That's your little sibling!?", Angel screeched. "What the fuck happened!?"

"It was too damn loud, that's what happened!"

The two continued to bicker as they tried to move the shadow out of the hotel.

A piece of rubble fell and Mimzy side stepped away from it. "Oops. Sorry about the mess. I'm sure the little bug can handle it."

"Mimzy.", Alastor went back to his normal size and made his way towards the hotel. "I believe it's time for you to leave. Now."

"What-? Come on, you don't mean that~", the flapper laughs. "This dump doesn't mean anything to ya! And you love taking care of me!"

"I can't have you making a mess here.", he replied. "You can stay if you want to be redeemed.", he turned to look back at the short woman. "But we both know that's not your style."

"Fine! I don't need you! Have fun at this ritzy dump and-!"

Alastor ignored the rest and walked into the hotel lobby. Husk was the only one taking care of the shadow beast, while Angel was watching whatever was going on between the two royals with the others.

"It's ok now, calm down.", the cat demon said to the shadow in the corner.

"What or who is this?", the deer demon asks and points to the shadow creature.

"Pretty sure you ain't deaf, you heard Angel yell it out.", Husk said and started..purring?

"My! I didn't know you could make such an adorable sound!", he grinned.

"Shut up!", the cat hissed quietly. "They need to calm down, loud noises only make it worse!"

"Well, why didn't you say that sooner?"

With a snap of his fingers, he teleported the three of them into his room in the greenery area.

"The only sounds in here are nature, will this do?", Alastor asked.

"Yes, this is fine.", Husk nodded before getting focused, and pulled the shadow closer. "Kit? Listen. You're ok now.", he said and started purring again.

Their shadow figure was still too large, so the radio demon decided to add in some of his white noise static, earning a look from Husker.

"It helps.", was all he said.

Slowly but surely, the shadow got smaller and smaller before going back into a familiar figure. The darkness on their form began to fade away, starting from the tips of their feet/paws.

Before the shadow fully receded, Husk held out his hand.

"Give me a blanket or somethin'."

"Whatever for?", he asked with a raised brow.

"You wanna see them naked?"

Alastor quickly took off his coat and handed it over.

In a quick motion, the cat demon covered his sibling in the red fabric and wrapped an arm around their shoulders, holding them securely as they passed out.

A few moments passed before the demon in red decided to ask his question.

"What exactly happened?"

Husk was quiet for a bit and then sighed.

"I'll let them tell you."

Now, Alastor stood in front of your hotel room.

He felt like it was as if it was his first broadcast all over again. His nerves were all over the place and his hands felt tingly.

Clearing his throat, he prepared himself and knocked on their door.

"Dear? Are you there? There is something I wish to discuss with you."

A few heartbeats later, the door opens.

"Come in."

*flops over* I'm done for now. Stay tuned.

~Seline, the person.

Part 6

Taglist@

*In comments because there are SO many*

ML I for Alastor🎙️ | HK ChL😾

[omega-e123]

!! NSFW !!

Suggestive. Blood mention.

AKA: Intro to very self indulgent rut fic. You have been warned

In A Rut..

Prologue (HERE!) || Restraint || Indulgence || Adoration

Odd behavior.

There Shadow goes again, walking off. He’s been acting strange lately. At first Shadow was practically clinging on to you.

Normally he doesn’t initiate physical contact, but at home he’s been snuggling into you, holding your body down so you can’t leave him. Attempting to part ways results a grumbly hedgehog.

The kisses don’t stop coming either. Knuckles every time you hold hands. Cheeks and forehead whenever he has to leave, no matter how short of an absence. Even if he’s going to be right back.

Jealousy has also become a big thing. Talking to anyone Shadow deems as a “threat”, he’s looming behind you, head on your shoulder and hands on your hips.

The worst it got was on a date at a bar. Shadow left momentarily to get you a drink. When he returned, someone was flirting you up. Enraged, the glass completely shattered in his hand. It sure scared off that guy. You had to bring attention to the shards in his hand, because he wasn’t concerned at all about it. Instead, Shadow slammed some money on the table and took your hand with the non injured one and left.

Next thing you knew, he’s been keeping distance from you. Both physically and shortening the time you two hung out.

He’s stopped initiating all together. Any advances you made Shadow wouldn’t turn down, but he would abruptly stop or attempt to keep it short. Started wearing a mask around you too.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Something is wrong with him. Your smell alone has started making his head spin. Every fiber of his being is drawn to you. Seeing you forces his quills to stand up on end.

Is this what a heart attack feels like? The pounding drum that is his heart is deafening. There’s no room to think. The only thing on his mind was you.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about you that way. Hell, it’s not like you two haven’t done the deed either; however, the intensity and frequency of these feelings have been cranked up to 100. It felt more primal.

The complete self restraint Shadow has to not pin you against the nearest wall, public or not, and shove his tongue down your throat is tearing him apart.

Such odd behavior was concerning. Swallowing every bit of ego and embarrassment, he turns to Rouge for answers.

Some help she was. That damn bat.

“Sorry, no can do. Sounds like a biological thing and not in the alien sense. I know you’ll hate to hear this but, try asking Sonic about it. You both are hedgehogs after all.”

“I think I would prefer skinning myself and be turned into a rug—“

She gives him a hard pat on the back, “Don’t say that. It wouldn’t be so bad~ I suppose you could ask Amy about it too… Or suffer! Your choice.”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

What’s worse? Confronting Amy or Sonic?

That blue little shit would never let him live it down. Sonic could implode from hysterical laughter if Shadow told him about these thoughts.

Amy… It’s simply too TMI. While she is understanding and more open, what if she didn’t know anything.

Shadow’s instincts pull him towards the former option. Unfortunately for the hedgehog, he was semi right.

Sonic took a good minute turned away from Shadow. His hand clasped over his mouth and the other holding his stomach. Sonic reeling in his laughter and forcing not a sound to come out.

“Nono! Sorry! It’s cute!”

“Cute?” Shadow’s eyes narrow.

Sonic waves his hand, as if he’s fanning the comment away. “Never mind. Sometimes I forget you’re bioengineered. What you’re going through is a rut.”

“This better not be some kind of joke.”

Hands in the air, feigning surrender. “I’m not. You’ve probably never experienced it before because you ain’t got bitches you never had a partner. It’s the one time a year hormones go crazy. Some other Mobians also experience it too, like deer.”

Shadow’s massages his temples, processing the new information. “You’re telling me, it’s a biological signal that it is time to breed.”

“Odd way to put it but yeah, basically. Lasts about two months. What you do with that information is up to you. G’luck buddy” he gives Shadow a thumbs up and runs off.

Two whole months. Only about two and a half weeks have passed and already Shadow can’t stop thinking about you splayed on his bed begging for his touch.

[cepheusgalaxy]

Classic: character compulsively washing their hands trying to get rid of blood stains that nobody but them can see, after having had to kill someone or watching someonde die in their arms, but the stains won't go away.

[biteytiefling]

So I had an idea and it won’t leave me alone so I’m going to post about it if anyone wants to continue this prompt please do

so starting this off with the fact of ghost hunger exist, they feed off of emotions and ectoplasm. This is for regular ghosts though for halfas though they require emotions, ectoplasm, and living meat/ fresh blood because of this all halfas have the air of an apex predator and all halfas are the children of life and death and they all become morally gray because of it also halfas are capable of Shapeshifting

Finally having enough of the GIW Danny and a de aged Dan(10) and elly(5) decide to lay low in Gotham for a while, while plotting how to take down the GIW and run across someone that they instinctually know is their older brother they’re very sickly older brother who calls himself killer croc they decided to stay with him and teach him how to live as a halfa and he teaches them how to live in Gotham they all try to avoid the bats while wreaking havoc

Gotham City and the bats are in alarm as killer croc has found his shapeshifter siblings and they are all causing havoc as they help out rogues and disappearing talons ( taking them to the ghost zone ) and making sure to cause extra destruction in government buildings ( because petty) and even stealing things from museums and private collections ( ghost artifacts ) and the bats are in confusion as they try to catch them ( all the Shapeshifting forms that the bats have seen are dinos, gator person, and Merfolk, I think that Danny Dan and elly would stick to more scaly forms ) 

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P5

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding from the nose.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 6-

=

(y/n) hadn’t talked to Tom for a while now, too scared to even open the diary. How had he done that?? How had a personality enchantment pulled her into its host?? Where it had a whole Hogwarts available to it??

Deep down-so deep she wasn’t even aware of it-she knew there was something more about Tom Riddle’s diary.

She stuffed the diary back into her trunk, refusing to even look at it.

Christmas was coming along now, and (y/n) didn’t know if she wanted to go back home for the holidays or stay at Hogwarts. She looked out the window of transfiguration class, her cheek on her palm as she watched the snow fall outside.

She should probably go back home, to get away from the craziness of the ‘chamber of secrets’ fiasco, if just to give her some peace of mind, and maybe some proper sleep.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes and looking down at her notebook. It was just her plain notebook; one she’d bought in Hogsmeade right after Tom had pulled her into his diary. She didn’t know how he’d done that, how he’d pulled her into his enchantment. Logically-that shouldn’t be possible, personality enchantments were just…personality enchantments, they shouldn’t be able to create their own realms-or pull others into what they perceived.

She licked her lip, rubbing her face as her head ached. She’d researched more about personality enchantments multiple times now, and not one of them said anything about the enchantments being able to be…more human, to have their own realms or be…real.

Tom felt too real.

She jolted as Professor McGonagall ended the lesson, telling everyone that the signup sheet for staying at the castle for the holidays had to be signed by the end of the week if one wished to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and New Year's.

(y/n) sighed, packing her books and heading back to her dorm room, she needed a nap.

She tossed her bag onto the floor and flopped onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow and clutching it, sighing deeply.

A nagging at the back of her mind told her to look at the diary.

She ignored it for several minutes before it became too much and she practically leaped off her bed, throwing open her trunk after dragging it out from under her bed and grabbing the diary. Grabbing it felt like welcoming home an old friend, like something missing was back in place.

She ignored that, opening the diary, reading through her notes that Tom had rewritten-but she got to the most recent ones, and they were gone-replaced with new sentences.

From Tom.

‘(y/n)?’

‘(y/n) It’s been days, I know I scared you, but you can’t ignore me forever.’

‘(y/n) Please, don’t leave me alone.’

‘(y/n).’

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that; I didn’t mean to scare you. Please talk to me again.’

‘I won't do it again. Just’ a series of frustrated scribbles then lined the page before the next sentence.

‘Merlin just talk to me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

(y/n) stared at the words for what felt like forever, she didn’t know whether or respond or to put the diary back into her trunk and ignore him…it…him.

(y/n) closed the diary and dropped onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t even know what was going on anymore, Tom-the diary-was just a personality enchantment-that’s what he said he was when she first wrote to him, and yet he seemed so…real, like he wasn’t just an enchantment.

Like someone’s very soul-their very being-was put into the diary.

But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

…

She was going back home for Christmas.

-

She didn’t bring the diary with her, instead locking it way in her bedside table drawer, though she felt the constant nagging need to grab it and write to Tom. She ignored that nag and it slowly went away the further the train traveled away from Hogwarts.

She was welcomed at Kings Cross station by her dad and her stepmom, and her brother-who was visiting for the holidays-her dad giving her a big warm hug, which she happily returned, she’d needed a good dad hug. “How’s school been sweetie?” her dad asked, his hand in hers as they walked to the car.

“Good, it’s…been dramatic I suppose,” (y/n) responded lightly, not knowing if her parents were aware of what was happening at the school.

“What sorta dramatics?” her brother asked and (y/n) shrugged, unsure of how to explain it.

“The usual stuff,” she said instead, her brother taking her trunk and loading into the car. “Teenagers, classes, boys.”

“Boys? Oh, don’t tell me my daughter has a boy at her heels? I’ve dreaded this day,” her dad joked, holding his hand to his chest as he pretended to faint, her stepmom laughing as (y/n) smiled tiredly.

“Not really, just…a particular boy, he’s…weird, I guess.” (y/n) muttered and her dad could tell she didn’t want to talk about it, even though her brother was bugging her about it, poking at her arm to spill more about her ‘mystery boy’.

“Leave her be Justin, she’s had a long trip back from the school-let’s get some dinner.” Her dad said, kissing her forehead before they all got into the car and her dad drove to her favorite restaurant.

-

Christmas had been very nice, her family had hosted the (last name) family Christmas party this year and she got to see all her extended family from that side, playing loads of muggle games with her cousins and bouncing her newest baby cousin on her knee as she listened to her great grand aunts and grand aunts chatter away. One asked if she had a boyfriend, and with a flush of her cheeks-thinking of Tom’s face and touch when he’d pulled her into the diary-shook her head.

“I’m not looking for one,” she said shyly, and thankfully her cousin came to her rescue-taking her son back and (y/n) quickly escaped into the kitchen, where her dad was making the finishing touches to the ham.

“Hi sweetie,” her dad said, distracted, as he brushed the glazed honey onto the ham while she hugged him from behind, and then helped him hold the ham slices apart so he could brush the glaze easier onto the ham.

She stayed silent while her dad worked, and when he put the brush and metal bowl aside, she tugged at his sleeve. He turned to her; his brows furrowed gently. “What’s wrong sweetie?” he asked, able to tell when she felt a bit…down.

“…Can I have a hug?” she asked quietly, really needing a dad hug, and instantly her dad's arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his familiar warmth, smelling of cologne and dandruff shampoo. She held him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

“what’s wrong sweetie?” her dad asked again, rubbing her back and she squished her cheek into him, wondering how to word the whole…Tom situation.

“There's this…boy,” (y/n) began and her dads grip on her tightened and he took her aside into the den. They sat down on the couch in front of the TV, and she tucked herself into her dad’s side-just like she’d done since she was young. “he’s…unusual, uhm, he’s tutoring me in defense against the dark arts, cause our current teacher is…just a buffoon.”

Her dad hummed, letting her know he was listening, rubbing her arm as his other hand rested on his lap. “Anyway-he was tutoring me, a few weeks back now and he uh…got really close.” Her father's grip on her arm tightened, his brow furrowing.

“Do I need to have a conversation with this boy (y/n)? Or send Justin?” her dad asked and (y/n) snorted, shaking her head, smiling gently.

“No, it’s okay-i…didn’t really mind it, I know you don’t wanna hear that but…it just-kinda scared me-I guess, I’ve never been that close to a boy before-not in…the way we were,” she looked up at her dad and huffed, smiling a bit “nothing happened dad, he was just all up next to me,” (y/n) said, giggling at the end as her dad just looked a bit green at the gills.

He sighed dramatically, putting his hand to his chest. “Oh good, I was worried I might get grandchildren early.” (y/n) squealed/laughed and smacked at her dad, who laughed heartily, before shaking her head.

“Daaad…anyway, uhm-I’ve been avoiding him since then, and…he sent me notes-apologizing, for scaring me-and that he didn’t mean to. And…I dunno what to do.” (y/n) continued softly, looking down at her hands as they were clenched together in her lap, chewing on her lip in thought.

“Do you think he genuinely meant his apology?” her dad asked and (y/n) shrugged.

“Uhm-well, he’s quite…hard to read, doesn’t…show his emotions a lot.” (y/n) murmured, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees.

“Were you expecting him to apologize?” Her dad asked and (y/n) thought about it for a moment, then shook her head.

“I…I hadn’t, he also kinda…begged me to talk to him again?” (y/n) said, remembering what Tom had written to her in the diary. ‘Please talk to me again.’

…she needed to do more research about personality enchantments, after all-maybe they could feel emotions? Since they were an imprint of someone's self into a book or object.

She remembered accidentally tearing a bit of the paper of the diary and Tom had reacted to it, as if he really felt it.

Perhaps Tom was more…real than she’d presumed.

“(y/n)?” her dad asked, and she turned, realizing he’d been talking this down. She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.

“Thanks daddy, I think I got it figured out-thank you for listening.” She said softly and he hummed, hugging her back tightly and kissing her forehead as she pulled away and stood up from the couch.

“You’re welcome sweetie, now let's get back to the party before anyone looks for us,” (y/n) nodded and held his sleeve as they left the den to go back through the house.

-

Thankfully during Christmas-she’d slept pretty good, probably because she knew home was safe and that there wasn’t a chance of being petrified by some-monster.

Returning to Hogwarts felt oddly suffocating, probably due to the…monster thing, and the fact that she was going to…talk to Tom again.

She slid open her drawer and took out the diary, opening it to find it completely blank. She frowned, rubbing her thumb against the blank first page. Odd…maybe he thought she’d abandoned him and erased all the notes he’d rewritten for her.

She swallowed harshly, and grabbed her quill-opening her ink well and dipping the tip, before pressing it to the page.

"I kinda needed those notes Tom.”

Her written words stayed there for a very long minute, before they sunk into the page and Tom’s words quickly appeared.

‘(y/n)?’

“yeah…hi.”

‘Where have you been?’

‘I thought you abandoned me?’

“I’m-“

(y/n) paused in her writing, should she apologize? Should she explain why she hadn’t written back to him?

“Im sorry. I got overwhelmed.”

“scared. I hadn’t expected you to do that, I didn’t know you could do that.”

‘I'm sorry, I hadn’t meant to do that, I’d only meant to properly tutor you, I apologize for any confusion I caused within you, I should’ve told you, asked you, before I pulled you into my diary.’

(y/n) stared at his apology for a long moment, her quill hanging limply in the curve of her hand, before she sighed, dipping her quill again.

“that would’ve been appreciated…how’d you even do that anyway?”

‘It’s complicated, because I’ve been enchanted into the diary for so long, and I, or my original self, enchanted his personality into his diary with the intent to make me as real as possible, and I suppose that included giving me a subspace that reflected Hogwarts. With time, the magic of the enchantment solidified and I’m practically as real as you are.’

“that…sounds not super complicated actually, you explained that pretty well.”

‘I may have been figuring out how to explain it to you since you stopped writing.’

Huh…that was kinda…sweet? Maybe? (y/n) sighed, shaking her head, leaning back on her bed, her back pressing against the headboard. She really didn’t know what to think anymore.

‘(y/n)?’

Oh, right.

“im still here,”

‘Do you forgive me? Or at least aren’t mad at me anymore?’

“I was never mad, just…freaked out, its not every day a personality enchantment can pull you into their space, ya know?”

‘True, I do apologize again, and I won’t do it again.’

‘At least without not asking you first.’

(y/n) sighed, rubbing her forehead, a streak of ink coating her cheek.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you Tom”

‘Thank you, (y/n), for talking to me again.’

‘I know I was quite irritated with you when we first began speaking, well writing, but I’ve grown fond of you.’

“thanks, you’re also quite entertaining for a diary of a nerd :D”

‘I’m not rewriting your notes anymore.’

“Jerk.”

‘Witch.’

-

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley poked their heads around the corner of the hallway Filch had stormed away from, instantly seeing what he’d been complaining about-there was water everywhere, reflecting the scarlet words that had long dried on the wall. They could hear Moaning Myrtle’s wailing from down the hall.

“Now whats up with her?” said Ron, scrunching his nose as their shoes waded in what he hoped was sink water.

“Let’s go and see,” said Harry, the two lifting their robes as they stepped through the inch-high water. Harry pushed open the door-squinting at the slight ringing in his ears-and then his eyes went wide, seeing a girl, much older than him and Ron, hunched over one of the sinks, blood mixing with the sink water as it dripped from her face.

Ron gasped as Harry rushed forward, his hand landing on the girls back, she turned to him, her gaze unfocused as Myrtle continued to moan-now realizing she was yelling for help.

“Hey, little Potter-mind if you grab a teacher for me? I don’t feel good,” the girl said weakly, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she passed out, nearly hitting the sink as she fell back.

“Ron go get Madam Pomfrey! Now!” Harry yelped, kneeling next to the 6th-year Slytherin girl, his hands shaking a bit as he patted her face-staining his skin with the blood that poured from her nose.

Ron ran out of the bathroom quicker than Harry had ever seen him, the two no longer caring for how wet their robes were.

Soon Madam Pomfrey and two professors were collecting the girl, named (y/n), from the floor of the bathroom, quickly taking her to the hospital wing. At the same time, Harry saw a black leather bound on the floor, blood-streaked on the edge of the pages. He picked it up, shaking it out and turning it over in his hands.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harry said under his breath, ignoring the way his ears were ringing and the way his scar itched.

-end of p5-

im so glad you guys are liking this storyyyy!!! and now we're getting to the good shit, buckle up chuckle fucks!

taglist!!!!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

@kayytt-2 @chimchoom

[traumasurvivors]

Feeling the effects of trauma is a normal response to a traumatic experience! It’s kind of like how it’s a normal response to bleed after you fall and scrape your knee.

[onenicebugperday]

@pyrohorse submitted: A sweet little lady having a meal for her babies! Also a horse of some variety. No need for ID just wanted to share.

I hope she enjoyed her meal and didn't leave too itchy a bite mark! Really nice horse also

[thebibliosphere]

So @mothman-etd is also playing Baldur's Gate 3 atm, and he just informed me he met a character that made him think of me.

"Oh yeah, she's like some crazy witch alchemist who's really good with words and tries to get Astorian to eat her. Like, actually eat her, not just fuck. She went into really graphic descriptors of wanting to feel him draining the blood out of her. Anyway, made me think of you 😊"

And, like, I gave him an impressive scowl, but like... I mean, he's not wrong.

[wolfertinger666]

I have a polar bear t girl oc who drinks blood and eats various meats and organs I should draw her again

[bunniebi]

Asmo eating a (your?) heart