#from flesh and bone

[seaweed-water]

i'm just warning anyone excited for the cannibal stiles fic that it is fucking unhinged... okay? you try being in the mind of a psychopath and tell me how that works out for you... unhinged, i tell you, demented... brainsick... i'm surprised i've even come up with this stuff. (am i really? no, but...) the spirit of nogitsune stiles stilinski has possessed me.

here are the tags i have so far...

tags: alternate universe – human, dubious consent, consensual non-consent, implied/referenced rape/non-con, cannibalism, power dynamics, age gap, bdsm, bad bdsm etiquette, dom stiles stilinski/sub derek hale, cannibal!stiles, killer!derek, master/pet, praise kink, somnophilia, dacryphilla, emetophilia, ruined orgasm, edging, orgasm denial, possession, ownership, marking, humiliation, breath play, subspace, derek hale in a collar, they are fucking feral for each other, like straight up freaks who kiss with their eyes open, feeding, voyeurism, baby-eating, porn with plot, minor character death, excessive use of pet names sorry not sorry, dead dove: do not eat

i'm sure there's more i'm missing or haven't gotten to yet. just wanted to temper expectations in case this isn't your bag.

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

Chip not having a gaping hole in his chest post-death is the hill i will die on, actually. I am on my hands and knees. Please I am begging yall. He does Not have a hole in his chest where his heart was thats Not how he died guys I'm begging yall (<- guy at the end of their rope /dramatic)

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 325

Danny, tiny from being physically de-aged more towards his ghost-age for his health, and slightly influenced by the fact that he currently has a tiny concussion, practically beaming at his current sort-of caretaker from the couch-bed: :D (They sort of got a choice in it, and they offered their home for the last few nights anyway!)

Charles “Chuck” Brown, freaking out more than a little bit after he woke up feeling like his back was being melted and decided to take a hot shower: Heey kid, is there a reason I am suddenly sprouting wings?!

[taymartiart]

when u get an accidental boner in front of the class

[shaadowmilkcookie]

have i given you enough of myself, yet?

a little something about people-pleasing

[qoldenskies]

i think about splinter walking in on the aftermath of caged lungs a lot

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY ITS THE SURGERY EPISODE BABY!!! ME AND THE HOMIES NEED SOME NEW FACES FOR OUR NEW PLAN, AND WHO BETTER TO GET THE JOB DONE THAN THE TWO MOST EVIL PEOPLE WE'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF HAVING OUR LIVES VIOLATED BY? I MEAN IT WOULD BE FUNNY. IT WOULD BE FUNNY.

[emmaspolaroid]

it’s like.. Fujino was so fucking jealous of Kyomoto and thought she’d never ever catch up and wanted to quit, but the art she hated was everything to Kyomoto. and i don’t think she ever grasped just how much Fujino envied and admired her, and that she needed her. she was her only friend.

[elumish]

I have been writing and rewriting and starting and restarting the same story for probably like 13 or 14 years, and I keep feeling like maybe this time I will get it to work.

[seaweed-water]

wip wednesday

thank you for tagging me, @dear-massacre... i'm assuming this is what you wanted lmao. also dedicated to @rugbertgoeshome who just lovingly spammed me ♥️

tw: implied rape, rape, depending on how you look at it i guess? someone gets raped

Stiles dips his head down and seals their lips together, holding Derek under his jaw. They watch each other through slotted eyes, and Stiles pulls away with soft lingering pecks as he says, “It’s today.”

With furrowed brows, Derek’s eyes flick between Stiles’, their faces inches apart now as Stiles waits for it to sink in, and then Derek understands.

“Right now?” he asks, his voice unsteady, a spike of adrenaline rushing through him at the realization he’ll be branded forever on this day. He asked Stiles to surprise him with it instead of counting down the days with dread in his veins.

“Right now,” Stiles confirms, and sweat sprouts over Derek’s skin as he swallows and presses into Stiles’ neck, seeking comfort as his limbs start to quiver in anticipation. Stiles’ arms wrap around him, nose pressing in his hair, lips brushing over his temple as Derek attempts to sink into him. He’d almost prefer to wear the collar forever, but even the thought isn’t satisfying enough. He can take the collar off, and then how would anyone know who he belongs to? He must be branded and marked permanently, forever—anything less simply won’t do.

Stiles lets him delay the inevitable a few more moments, fingertips massaging over Derek’s scalp as he breathes in the doctor’s warm scent to calm himself, until finally Stiles pulls away, stealing another kiss before he says, “Go kneel by the fire, baby.”

Derek does as he’s told, draping over the chair, knees planted on the cushion Stiles placed for him. Stiles’ fingers hook under the elastic band of Derek’s pants, peeling the fabric away. The skin on his ass cheek turns cold in the wake of the iodine Stiles swipes over him, and he shudders, the hair rising over every inch of his body.

The branding itself doesn’t hurt quite like Derek expected. Maybe worse than a tattoo, the white-hot iron searing into his ass cheek for all of three seconds. The euphoria kicks in before he really gets a chance to revel in the pain, and Stiles applies an ointment as Derek lies over the chair cushion with tears in his eyes.

“Have you ever branded anyone before?” Derek asks, his voice a bit raw. He blinks his tears away, the heat of the crackling fire scorching over his wound.

“Yes,” Stiles answers, tearing medical tape strips off the roll.

“Who?” Derek looks over his shoulder, his brows furrowing. He knows the answer before Stiles opens his mouth.

“Do you really want to have this conversation right now?”

“Yes.”

The doctor takes in a deep breath, his gaze tentative, lips pressed in a tight line. “Isaac, a few before him. They’re all dead now.”

Derek’s jaw hardens as he looks forward, the velvet backside of the armchair his only view. “Isaac isn’t dead.” But he will be if Derek has anything to do about it.

Stiles places a precut plastic wrap over the new mark, taping it in place, and Derek sucks in a sharp breath as he presses his face into the cushion.

“Isaac doesn’t have my collar.”

With a few shuddering breaths, Derek clenches his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut. “Did anyone else have your collar?”

“No,” Stiles says, the smile evident in his voice. He reaches out and runs his fingers through the hair on the back of Derek’s head. “You are not allowed to kill him. Your punishment will not be fun if you do.”

“Why won’t you let me kill him?” Derek feels Stiles’ lips on his neck, just above the buckle of his collar.

“Drop it, Derek.”

“Are you still fucking him?”

Stiles huffs out an exasperated breath, his fingers gripping in Derek’s hair before pulling him back and twisting his head to meet his gaze. Derek strains, planted on his knees, Stiles mirroring him. “I spend all my time with you. Do you really not know the answer to that?”

That’s not a yes or a no, and Derek’s jaw hardens, his eyes flicking between Stiles’ with knit brows and an obstinate glare.

Stiles purses his lips, frustrated. “No, I’m not still fucking him.”

Derek eases up a bit, still straining in his position as Stiles holds his head back, neck bared. “Then why can’t I kill him?”

“I said drop it, Derek. You’re going to have to trust me. You’ll understand when it’s time.”

It seems Derek doesn’t have a choice. He obeys, begrudgingly, and Stiles tends to him, passing him painkillers and water, feeding him before they go to bed. He lies over Stiles’ chest, ass cheek burning, and deliberates to himself as he stares into darkness.

Perhaps Derek can’t kill him, but cutting the brand off was never explicitly forbidden.

He’s known where Isaac works, where he lives, his favorite TV dinner, and all about his track record thanks to Stiles’ detailed notes and his own investigative work. He learned of Stiles’ brand on his skin fourteen hours ago, and in that time, he’s already got Isaac tied up and naked over his kitchen counter.

Derek could have just re-branded him, but he couldn’t bear to let Stiles’ brand exist beneath it. Instead, he flays the skin off, and Isaac passes out after screaming so hard, only waking up once Derek presses a glowing metal spatula over the bleeding flesh to cauterize the wound. He could have just let Isaac die from blood loss, but Derek is a good boy—he obeys his master, for the most part.

Isaac’s eyes are watery and dazed, his mouth taped shut as he glares wearily up at his offender, gaze flicking to the medallion hanging off Derek’s beloved necklace. Derek grips his jaw, glaring right back. “You don’t belong to him anymore.”

Derek tosses the removed skin into the garbage disposal and flicks it on, and Isaac watches with tears in his eyes, from the pain of his missing flesh or the loss of his master, Derek doesn’t really care. He fucks him for good measure, just to assert dominance and remind Isaac how powerless he is. When he cuts the ropes, Isaac lies there in shock, Derek’s cum leaking out of him.

The doctor praises him when he gets home, as if he’d expected nothing less.

“Clever boy,” he says as he kisses Derek’s temple and places a plate of food in front of him.

“How’d you know? You’ve had clients all day.”

“I’ve had a tracker on your phone for years, baby.”

Derek feels silly for even asking. no pressure tags: @demonicfaerie @endwersed @eevylynn @hellameyers @keldjinfae @violetfairydust @gege-wondering-around

[thefearfulheart]

I offer a clownbo headcanon

Evbo isn’t one for physical affection but doesn’t mind the contact even if it isn’t his preference. Rarely initiates physical contact other then usually a pat on the shoulder, a handshake or on the rarer occasions a hug by himself but he’s willing to hug or do anything else when asked too since he would feel bad about rejecting them. Pretty much would lay stiff as a board in bed if you cuddled him type of thing because it’s not something that is a need for him unlike for other people and he just ends up feeling a bit awkward about it. He has more of a preference for vocalising things rather since he views that as something more grounded and solid without implications unlike physical contact, something feels different when you vocalise things in his head.

Clown, on the other hand, is much more the one that actively desires physical contact and seeks it out in either small or big ways like putting a hand on people shoulders to draping himself across them. He’s extremely more proactive in initiating contact and that’s definitely because he hasn’t physically touched another person for years as he was locked away in his prison so it makes him feel grounded, makes it feel that he has actually escaped from it when he touches another breathing person that isn’t himself. Basically it allows him to feel real and not trapped in the end while speaking feels more like empty promises and lies in the end. To many implications with words while there’s something more honest about physical touch.

So you get the nice visual of Clown draping himself over Evbo’s back while the other is just chattering along about something, anything really.

[lonely-sweetpotato]

I should be working. But I can't.

Why?

Because all I can think about is Poppy and Casteel meeting Sera, Nyktos, and crew.

Like (!!!!!!!!!!!) And also (?!?!???!!?!!!!!!?)

THEM MEETING ATTES?! AIOS?! SAION!!!

And Reaver in the corner "whyyyyy I can't with y'all bullshit, im out, fuck all of you".

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CONTINUE LIVING, SEND HELP.

[cheesyromancejunkie]

“Some things are worth risking everything for.”

[arthurpendragonsass]

yk there's a lot of talk about the way merlin is practically a god but lives as an unassuming servant, and seeing this surprises druids/other magic users. i wanna see kind of the same thing happen to arthur with the people of his kingdom. we know arthur so intimately, from merlin's pov, but i wanna see him as a living legend. stories of his valor spreading across land, blown out of proportion and missing details. “the prince slayed the great dragon and gifted its head to the king!” “some say the goddess blessed him when he was born, when she took the queen back. how else does one survive an attack by a questing beast?” “he held out his hand and the sword stuck in solid stone flew to him! iwan says meredith’s aunt saw it herself!” “the word has come, king arthur defeated annis’ champion—a giant of a man!” old men discussing arthur’s policies, comparing them with those of previous rulers, and being glad that it's him on the throne “finally, a good fucking king.” people having faith that their ruler is generous and fair and can be approached in times of need, and having the comforting knowledge that he would do his best to help because that's what he did with the other village last year! young boys dreaming to join his army and young girls daydreaming about a fairy tale ending with him (or vice versa, obv). just... arthur of his people.

what I'm saying is i want an outsider pov character study of arthur pendragon king of camelot. hope that helps

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[narfin-frood]

do you guys have headcanons for how hater came to be because i super dont. in my head he's been bones forever and ever and thats just his species