#he was already terrified of turning out like clay

[ethan-acfan]

Just your friendly reminder that during ac3, they had started leaving Desmond in the animus for up to 3 days at a time, possibly longer. They also didn't tell him he was going to be spending extended time in the animus until AFTER the time had already passed, and not only that, they told him in an email. Not even to his face, through a goddamn email.

[whumpster-fire]

Yet another reason T. T. Sutherland is a coward and a fool for going "Peril has never been touched in battle before, the dragonflame cactus was her first time experiencing real pain" and I refuse to accept it as canon:

Cooler Headcanon: the reason Peril immediately had the idea of burning the venom out of Clay's wound when he got bitten by the Dragonbite Viper was because she's had to do that to herself after getting puncture wounds from sandwings that injected venom past the superheated layer of skin. It didn't do as much damage to her as it did to Clay because Peril's pretty much completely fireproof even under the skin, so the scars are pretty small and not that noticeable, but she does have a few.

The couple times she de-venomed herself during a battle were pretty much the most metal thing ever to happen in Scarlet's arena. A dragon getting an apparently mortal wound, jamming her claws right into the open wound, writhing on the sand in apparent death throes, and then after like a minute getting back up with "smoke" rising from her eyes and nose as well as the bloody, sizzling puncture, and proceeding to limp across the arena and utterly destroy her terrified opponent.

The dragons she was fighting didn't try to finish her off because they'd already severely burned their tail barbs and probably talons and wings doing it and weren't going to risk getting hurt even worse by a dying dragon. Then of course when their one hope of killing her turned out not to work they kind of lost the will to live.

This contributed significantly to Peril's reputation as an invincible monster, but on the other hand seeing the queen's champion curled in a fetal position, screaming, sobbing and obviously trying not to pass out, made some of the spectators present for those fights somewhat remember that this was a 2-3 year old dragonet being thrown in the arena with full grown adult enemy soldiers, which was pretty messed up even if the small child kept winning. These feelings of sympathy were often diminished a bit by what Peril did to her opponents afterward, but Queen Scarlet was still not pleased, and after it happened two or three times she got a supply of the antidote cactus for "if a guard accidentally gets gotten by a sandwing prisoner" purposes.

Ruby absolutely never saw this because she made a point of watching fights in the arena as little as possible, especially Peril's for obvious reasons.

On the other hand I just thought of the perfect explanation for why Carnelian was like "I wonder if she remembers me?" when Peril showed up at JMA instead of freaking out like most of the dragons there. At some point, early in her career as a child soldier before she ended up in Ruby's unit, she was working in the palace and got voluntold to help out during an incident when Peril got stabbed in the shoulder or something where she couldn't reach with her claws so somebody had to very carefully burn the venom out with a red hot nail and a pair of tongs. Carnelian's actual job was probably something like holding a bucket of water and pouring it on the spear haft a third dragon was holding Peril's wing closed with, but she met Peril in a vulnerable state when she wasn't trying to perform for the crowd, and also saw her trying really hard to avoid accidentally injuring anyone, which led to her being one of a small number of skywings who are capable of being normal about Peril.

[sir-davey]

King Saul’s evil spirit, also known as the Ruach Ra’ah

I want to show some of the characters from my Saul retelling, The Book of Saul, and one of the major ones that take part of Saul’s life is Ze’ev, who is King Saul’s evil spirit but personified as a spirit always taking the form of a wolf in Saul’s visions.

I have yet to properly introduce him, but I will now lol.

I draw him frequently with Saul and I have a lot planned for him. He’s his own character instead of simply being the vaguely mentioned evil spirit that attacks Saul in the Bible lol. In the story, there’s some heavy lore that Ze’ev carries, and when he first actively interacts with Saul (right after being rejected as king), he becomes Saul’s conscience, and a guide, as he twists truths for his own benefit and amusement.

To summarize Ze’ev’s character, Ze’ev can be interpreted in many ways. He is basically the essence of Saul’s subconscious containing his deepest fears and regrets. Saul’s mentality will be reflected on Ze’ev who guides Saul, seeking truths he desperately yearns for, through 7 seven visions. No matter how hard Saul tries, he cannot escape the spirit always appearing before him. And also, those 7 visions are basically Saul’s hell with different truths revealed to him. Ze’ev finds so much joy in watching him suffer, yet he is able to have Saul always running back to him for help. Ze’ev knows very well that Saul has absolutely no one to turn to as he takes advantage of his helplessness.

As for Ze’ev’s appearance, he is usually a wolf, and there are two reasons why Ze’ev appears as a wolf. One being the tribe symbol for Benjamin, the tribe Saul’s from, which is represented with a wolf, and in the past I had called Ze’ev the “Wolf of Benjamin”, but I ended up changing his name lol. But the second reason resonates with Saul more deeply, where in the story, Saul is terrified of wolves due to traumatic experiences with them, and it comes off basically as a phobia Saul has (I believe the phobia for wolves is called “lupophobia”, that’s what Saul would have oof). But ironically, Saul is from Benjamin, and he’d be surrounded by wolf symbols as a benjaminite king ruling the place. And plus, Ze’ev is almost always a wolf, and if you recall what I���ve said, Ze’ev is the essence of Saul’s mind made up of his darkest fears and regrets while appearing in Saul’s visions.

I could literally go on and on about the evil spirit Ze’ev, but I would be crossing spoiler territory if I do loll.

But some small things about him: Ze’ev shapeshifts a lot, and his form is always moving in place. And he has a HUGE tail that constantly flows.

But lastly, this one means a lot to me lmaoo, but hear me out on this. When it comes to Ze’ev’s voice, I usually either have him speak with both a male and a female voice that intermingles at the same time (for reference, it’s just like Satan’s voice from that creepy Mark Twain clay animation movie. Look it up if you’re curious lol). Or, Ze’ev speaks as a distorted version of Saul’s voice.

Butttt, I can’t help but headcanon his voice as Will Wood when it comes to visualizing him in my head. Ze’ev sings as well (he sometimes sings to lure Saul), and whenever he sings, all I can hear is Will Wood. Ack, Will Wood!!! 🔥 And I know I’m being biased because I LOVE Will Wood (pls if you’re a Will Wood fan you gotta let me know 😭). But outside of the book, I imagine Ze’ev’s voice as Will Wood’s lolllll.

I already have a bunch of Saul and Ze’ev animatics planned, but if I do make an animatic/animation with Ze’ev, it’s going to be a Will Wood song.

[blippymilk]

Dirt Bike Racer Fem! Reader x Brozone (+ Poppy)

(TYSM for all the love, request, and followers guys!! The little comments y’all be putting on your request and under my post make me wanna tear up a lil bit 🤧)

John Dory:

- Finds it incredibly hot that you’re a (famous) dirt bike racer

- Didn’t know you were a female at first until you took off your helmet and revealed your (GORGEOUS) self

- Never thought he had a chance with you tbh :(

- But then realizes HE’S JOHN DORY, THE LEADER, J.D and gets the courage to ask you out (however that story ends up is up to you)

- When you guys finally end up together his heart is content

- Although sometimes he feels that he has to go beyond his expectations because his girlfriend is literally a dirt bike racer!

- So yes his ego is hurt a little bit (but he’ll never stop loving you so don’t even worry)

- He would love to take your motorcycle for a ride all day

- And if he doesn’t know how to ride one yet (which I doubt) he will (put his ego aside and) ask for lessons (don’t tell anyone though)

- Definitely getting matching cycles

Spruce:

- Kinda thinks you’re a walking hazard/danger sign at first

- But Bruce believes the heart wants what the heart wants and it wanted you

- Has to get used to the loud noises your motorcycle makes when you take off anywhere, but eventually gets over it

- Loves riding on the motercycle with you after a couple months

- Has you under a oath to never speak about the time he tried to take it for a ride by himself with zero experience (🫢)

- Makes sure the keys (or anything that the lock can be picked with) for the motorcycle are always out of reach if you decide to have kids

- Doesn’t mind you taking the kids for a ride (but they have to be 10 or older 😢)

- Definitely wears a shirt that says ‘My wife is a famous dirt bike racer, how about you?’

Clay:

- You definitely bring out the fun in him (and he hates that at first)

- You met him during his serious boy Clay get up so at first he didn’t take you too seriosuly

- But when he learns it’s ok to loosen up, he found himself falling for you (he been loved you, he’s just embracing it now)

- Wants to be on your motorcycle more than you do

- Definitely already knew how to ride one (he was fun boy Clay soooo)

- Teach him all the crazy tricks in the book, he’ll end up mastering them all

- Please convince this man to wear a helmet cause if you don’t , he’s not even touching one

- Screaming all types of things while on the bike

“I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND!”

Floyd:

- It’s a little weird with Floyd

- Like he loves and supports the fact that you’re a dirt bike racer but he doesn’t think about it too much (at least for the first part of the relationship)

- Secretly terrified of the roaring of your engine behind his calm smile

- You didn’t realize he was either until one day he walked into your garage and you started it up, causing him to completely fall onto his back

“Oh my gosh Floyd are you ok?

“Yea bab- yeah I’m fine…”

- Unlike the other boys, you have to convince him to ride on your bike

- Sit him in front of you so he’s convinced you won’t leave him behind :(

-Eventually he learns to enjoy it to some degree (still prefers the car tho if you know what I mean)

- Attends every event you have with the biggest “____’s #1 FAN!” sign anyone there can bring, and please don’t let him find out if someone is trying to show him up 😭

Branch:

- Ok let’s be honest if you met him during his first Trolls movie phase, he would actually despise you (at least at first)😭

- The nerve he’d think you’d have to turn on your loud engine while the village could possibly be hunted down by bergens

- After the first movie events and knowing everyone’s fine and well, he starts to show some interest

- You may or may not catch him at one or two or all of your events

- He can’t decide if he wants to ride your bike or not

- Like you’ll offer to take him for a ride and every time he’s just like:

“Well- like…um- ye- well actually, wait no, actually…maybe- well…”

- It’s to the point where if you want him to go with you, you’re gonna need to snatch him on and put the helmet on his head

- Since he’s one of the few trolls that knows about the internet, he made a fan account for you where he uploads all your clips, and makes sweet commentary and deletes all hate comments and possibly comments “____ is better” on fan accounts for any opposing riders

Poppy:

- You might have to run away from this girl at first

- Begs to ride your bike before you’re even together

- And when she is with you like Bruce she feels the need to take it upon herself to try and ride the bike

- Let’s just say she enjoyed your physical attention and the way you kissed her “boo-boo’s” afterwards

- So by the time she heals you’ve learned to take Poppy for frequent rides

- Has no shame in asking for lessons at all

- Definitely asks you to take, her, and Viva for a joyride

- Let’s the whole pop village know that her girlfriend is a famous dirt bike rider (as if they don’t already know 💀)

“Oh you’re boyfriend’s a baker? That’s crazy cause my girlfriends a dirt bike racer!”

“No way she’s a CEO? Mine ride’s a dirt bike, and she’s well know!”

“You’re girlfriends a top secret spy for the biggest agents in the world? That’s insane, my girlfriend rides a dirt bike!”

[eugeneplace]

Did you guys know that there's people who ship poly Kismet?!

Because I didn't and now I can't stop thinking about it

I had to do this, otherwise I was going to explode

BRANCH X KISMET KIDS, EVERYONE, I FINALLY LOST IT

There's Coal, Ablaze/Branch kid, he's the oldest with eleven (They had him when they were very young). Red hair and a Mix of blue and lilac. Inherited the glitter freckles.

No one expected Ablaze's Rock genes to give the kid fangs but they did. He looks a lot like Clay but has a very JD personality.

Fun fact: Trickee gave him permission to get his hears pierced even though the others said no

Then we have Bang! Boom/Branch child (Boom thought that name was funny). Dark purple hair (I am one of those who believe that the rainbow hair is dyed) and shining green. Not a glitter troll but has a lot of freckles.

Very bock smart like Clay and got Floyd looks and shyness. I'm a sucker for Branch having a mad scientist child. So she is your typical genius but socially inept character!

... "She" is totally growing to be a they/them

Not so fun fact: The village kids nicknamed her vampire

Twig is from Trickee/Branch. Hey! One of his kids needed to have Branch's attitude. Dark blue hair and warm orange, to contrast his coldness.

The brain of the team and moral compass of his older siblings.

The Jonh Dory resemblance is going to be terrifying to Bruce and Clay in the movie. Especially because the kid looks at you as if he were disappointed in being related and as if he despised every decision you have made in your life...

He's actually very sweet, don't worry!

Jacaranda is Hype/Branch baby, they wanted a blue themed name.

She is just three (omg same age as Branch when his brothers left) but has already proven to be an entity of chaos.

Her puppy dog eyes get her older siblings out of trouble

And oh boy! If these kids get in trouble...

(Version without color 'cause I liked how it turned out)

[chic-beyond-the-wall-oc-acct]

Ok, I've not seen it here but why are so many people on like TikTok and Twitter saying that the people in the Appalachians who didn't evacuate for the hurricane got what they deserved? I genuinely don't understand. People typically evacuate TO the Appalachians to avoid hurricane weather. All we got were flash flood warnings, which happen and are typically pretty easy to get over and recover from. And it's not just the fact that we don't get hurricane warnings, when things started to look worse we were told to stay put. And even for the few people who were told to evacuate, 30 minutes to an hour before they got hit, when you live in a place where people typically go to when they evacuate, where do you go? How do you know how far is far enough to be safe?

Let's take Asheville, a day trip from where my brother and his family live. It's underwater. A place 300 miles off the coast and 2100 feet above sea level. Ashville is one of the places people typically go to to avoid hurricane weather.

The damage in the Appalachians from Hurricane Helene is absolutely devastating. I have lived in Virginia my whole life and have never seen anything worse than a few flooded fields and raised creeks, this was not that. I've never seen the schools be turned into shelters. I'm almost 20, and I know that isn't a long time when you look at everything from before but that's still a good chunk of years. I don't recognize a lot of places anymore.

People's houses have been washed away, there are people dead and missing. Most people didn't have cell service for days and the first thing they see when they get back online to maybe see how folks are doing or get the news is people saying they deserved what they got. Entire towns have been washed away, bridges and roads are literally gone. They're not just underwater or damaged, they're gone. a damn broke and water had to be released into the already flooded rivers to stop others from breaking.

The land and infrastructure of the Appalachians isn't made for this. In most places the water has nowhere to go. It's too much for the ground, which is mostly clay, to soak up and in most places, like the valley my house sits in, the mountains form bowl-like shapes that keep the water from flowing out.

The wind was so bad we had a small twister touch down at my house. I joked with a few friends how it was a polite windstorm because it stayed in the road but stuff like that is literally terrifying. It threw something that knocked one of my windows in and I had to hold it up by myself. Our house is surrounded by 100 year old oaks and pines. If the one that fell had fallen to the left instead of the right, I'd probably be dead because it would have landed in my bedroom. One of our generators started leaking in the middle of the night and as my dad got up for work at 2 am he had to check to see if my mom, who had fallen asleep in the living room, was still alive because you could smell the gas which carries carbon monoxide. And that's just our personal experience. I feel absolutely awful for those that had it worse.

The Great Smokey Mountains, America's most visited national park, had 13.3 million visitors last year. Judging by everything that's been said online I doubt half of those people sympathize with what the people that live in that area are going through. As I said, we get flash flood warnings but nobody prepares you for this level of flooding! I guess it's easy to sit back and criticize the people that are literally suffering right now when you aren't affected at all. I can say I have never criticized people who got caught in a disaster nor have I met people who do so this is all so bizarre to me. It's crazy that the bar is so low and people can't even get across it. Hardly any sympathy and even less aid.

I really hate to put all of this here but I really need to get it off my chest. This was supposed to be a short ramble but seeing how completely unsympathetic people are being made me so angry.

[vorezone-act8]

Inside your mouth I cannot see

safe vore fic. sorry if you realize what these characters are from lmao (owen is an oc stand in for the player but) warnings: emeto, body dysphoria/dysmorphia, mentions of actual cannib.alism/"h.ard vore" but it doesnt actually happen, suicidal ideation somewhat, suggestive implications unrelated to the vore

Owen couldn't keep this up for much longer. 

He'd been running from "Uthman" for twenty minutes at this rate. He couldn't claim to be in good shape, either, even before this happened; he'd barely slept since he got here, and he'd already been walking for ages. This place was awful labyrinthine for a place of work.

He was wont to give out eventually.

And so he did, a momentary falter of his footing resulting in him being tackled to the ground, vision spotting from the impact his head made with the floor.

"Owen," the thing mumbles. No—even like this, Uthman wasn't a thing. He was a person; a person who would feel terrible about this when he woke up. "Need them. Your organs." His breathing is ragged.

Fighting to keep consciousness, Owen writhes in his grasp, but it's no use. Instead, he tries to reason, "You don't want this; you’re going to feel horrible, later. Uthman, wake up, please—"

Uthman's hands, pinning the other man to the ground by his wrists, tremble. His eyes focus again for a moment, practically drawing his own blood by how hard he's biting his lip. "Trying." Tears prick at his eyes, despite the grin his face has contorted into. It's pained. “I’m sorry.”

He's not sure why he wants to tell him that it's okay, to comfort him, as he finally slips into darkness.

Uthman is fighting himself. He's just lucid enough to resist the hunger for a few more moments, but it's impossible. It hurts—and the only thing that will make it stop is if he sates it, or he’s knocked out. But Owen wasn’t able to do the latter. He has to hold off, just for a few more moments. He won’t forgive himself if—

He half-doubles over in pain on the other’s unconscious form, yelping like the animal he is. His stomach feels as though it’s trying to digest itself.

The opposing instincts of the desire to protect him from further harm and to consume him, thus stopping the pain, converge into overwhelming mixed signals that freeze him in place. In inaction. A momentary blessing.

But unfortunately, it results in a bizarre compromise.

The Devil's mouth experimentally opens, and he shoves Owen's head inside. It fits alarmingly well. The clay making up the flesh makes it disgustingly flexible, too. Impossible. It shouldn't be able to fit a man inside. But it can.

Even screaming inside, the hunger is now beginning to cloud his horror. He can taste Owen’s blood, which he can’t stop himself from licking off his chin. The animal in him wants to finish the job. Wants to be full. It's been starving for so long. 

The human is terrified.

But this is the only conclusion The Devil can come to that will satisfy both instincts. Swallowed whole, instead of torn to shreds. No longer hungry, but Owen might survive if Uthman snaps out of this state fast enough.

All it takes is a swallow to bring his shoulders into his throat, then another for his torso, then his legs—

A purr rises in his middle as his poor friend's form settles into it, arms wrapping around him in a lovesick fondness. He curls up on the floor around his stomach, like an animal at rest.

Lucid again for a moment, Uthman is wracked by a sob as his bleary eyes grow heavy against his will. It's too late.

————————————————

Uthman wakes up nauseous, and aching all over—from falling asleep on the floor, apparently. He groans as he sits up, aching back popping. Eyes squinting from residual exhaustion, he scans the room. He doesn't know how he got here, or why.

Confusion quickly turns into alarm.

The last thing he remembers is being with Owen. Where is he? Did they split up? What would cause a lapse in memory like—

He notices a splatter of human blood right beside him.

Panic rises in his core.

"Mr. Webb?" He calls out urgently, fearing the worst. "Owen??" He attempts to stand up—but his stomach lurches unnaturally at the sudden movement, as if bloated.

His blood runs cold. The lingering taste of metal in his mouth—

He retches, but nothing comes up. He buries his face in his hands—both of which he doesn’t want to be his own, especially right now. But they are. This monster is you. You killed and ate that poor man. Didn’t you?

Hot wet tears deface his disgusting visage even further, as they should. He curls in on himself, no, around what was left of the friend he didn’t deserve. “I’m so sorry,” his monotone cracks. “I-I knew I should have stayed away—I’m so selfish. I’m sorry, Owen.” 

He really is selfish. Owen will never get to see his children again, nor will he get to go home. All for what? Because he was just so desperate for human connection that he couldn’t just help from the sidelines, when this man’s family was on the line—when he knows how dangerous he is? Boo fucking hoo.

He shudders violently as he gags. It’s painful.

That man is dead, and

“...Uthman?”

His ringing ears almost don’t catch the sound. Not until it’s repeated, louder: “Uthman! Hello?” It’s Owen’s voice, oddly muffled. Eyes blurry but wide, he once overs the room in disbelief. “Owen?” His voice trembles. He doesn’t see anything. “Where are you?”

“I don’... know,” the man tiredly answers, then poses a question of his own: “It’s too dark to tell. Were you… crying?” 

A shuddering breath is taken in. He scans the room again. “I was worried I… killed you. I’m glad I didn’t. Are you hurt? Do you recall anything? You sound tired, so I’m assuming you were unconscious.” 

There’s a beat of silence.

“...I remember you… knocking me over. Hit my head, must have conked out. I don’t hurt anywhere else, though. Guess you… left me alone?” He seems to be just as confused. 

It’s starting to concern him how clearly he can hear Owen’s voice, despite neither of them knowing where he is.

“I should check you for a concussion,” Uthman thinks aloud. “Can you move?”

Immediately afterwards, a wave of nausea hits him as he feels—something move, inside of what, unmistakably, must be his stomach. Realization hits him like a truck, but as a literal doctor, he finds it hard to accept that this is possible for him to do. They should both be dead. 

Well… if he were human, that is. Right.

“...I’m cramped. Can’t really tell.” Owen’s voice is alarmingly lacking any fear about the situation he’s in. Even without knowing what Uthman has realized, being trapped in a cramped space you can’t see is terrifying. Maybe he does have a concussion. “Wet, also.”

“Owen,” Uthman starts, trying to keep his voice level. He nearly tries to make eye contact with his stomach, but averts his eyes out of shame. “I think I know where you are.” He sucks in a breath. “...For some reason, in that state, I just…” The words are hard to get out of his mouth, because he can hardly believe them. 

“Swallowed you whole. Instead of something more immediately lethal.”

There isn’t a response for a moment. 

Then, wordless, panicked thrashing against his internals. There it is. The fight or flight response kicking in. He grits his teeth in pain, instinctively clutching at his middle, as if to make it stop. He releases his grip near immediately, not wanting to hurt Owen any further. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before—and it’s terribly nauseating. 

Maybe that’s a good thing, vomiting would be welcome to this situation. But—

“...Y-you shouldn’t care, but just in case you do, that does hurt,” he clarifies.

It stops quickly. “Sorry,” Owen apologizes. His voice grows quieter. “...I was scared.”

“No, it’s—it’s completely understandable.” Uthman sighs heavily as his muscles relax. “I mean, anyone would be afraid if they were… literally eaten by a monster.” His eyes unfocus, staring into nothing. He really is one, isn’t he?

“...Don’t… call yourself that,” Owen manages, shifting himself around in an attempt to get more comfortable. Uthman cringes at this horrendously invasive feeling. This is, quite possibly, the worst way to have to confront his non-human biology. He almost tuned out what Owen said.

“It’s true, though. A human, and most other animals, physically could not do this.” He grips his wrist as it trembles. “But that’s not important—I need to get you out of there. Our digestive systems aren’t designed to handle this much, so you should be fine for a while, but I’m not going to wait around for you to get hurt, and I’m sure you don’t want to, either.”

There’s a beat, as if Owen were thinking on what to say, for whatever reason. Uthman finds the answer pretty cut and dry, so this strikes him as odd. His passenger settles with a, “...Fair.”

Uthman pinches the bridge of his nose, sucking in another breath through his teeth. “Yes.” He moves to stand up—but hesitates. “...Uh. I’m going to get up. Alright?” There’s a noise of acknowledgement from inside, so he takes that as his go-ahead. Legs trembling slightly, he uses a nearby wall to stand to his feet…. hooves, rather. Right. He hates this.

It shouldn’t be as easy to walk as it is. He hates that Owen is like nothing more than a little added weight to his body. That’s an entire person. You can hardly even notice that he’s there.

…It’s hard for him to calm his spiraling thoughts with this situation. 

Thankfully, Owen breaks the silence: “What are you, uh… going to do? Try to throw up, right?” …Maybe not so thankfully. This is another thought rabbithole to go down. At least it’s a more helpful one to go on.

“Well…” Uthman has to think about the logistics of this. He was able to get Owen down, so he should be able to come back up. But the space is so tight he doesn’t trust he won’t suffocate within, or that he won’t choke on him, this time. Actually, is there even enough oxygen in his stomach for Owen to begin with? Is it not a concussion, but a lack of air?

His head is spinning with concerning questions and possibilities.

“...I think I’m just going to cut you out.”

“HUH?” Owen barks in alarm. “Just throw up! You’re a doctor, you know sometimes you just gotta throw up—”

“I’m not scared to throw up!” He blurts, feeling the skin beneath the fur on his face flush. “I’m worried you’re going to suffocate. It’ll make me feel better if I just… surgically remove you.”

“Have you ever even performed surgery on yourself? What if you mess up? You could cut me.” Owen strategically doesn’t mention that he’s actually more concerned about Uthman hurting himself, because he knows that he doesn’t care about his own wellbeing right now.

It works. Uthman groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...Okay, good point. Maybe I should just… try. But I’m not sure… where would be an appropriate location. The floors here are all hard.” God, this is embarrassing. “I guess I’ll head back to my office. There’s pillows and stuff…” He sighs. 

Just as he was about to start moving again, he feels some sort of pressure from within. He can’t help but look down, as much as he really doesn’t want to, and thus confront this reality in its entirety. It’s repetitive, it recedes and presses in again a few times.

“It’s really not that bad. Take your time to get there.”

…He realizes it must be Owen’s hand, patting him.

His face grows hot. He doesn’t like that it felt nice, and especially not that his stomach responds with a growl. No, no, no, you don’t like this. “D-don’t tell me that,” he chides, trying to keep himself composed. “It’s not okay, and I don’t want to think that it’s okay. My instincts might kick in again, and then they might not let you go. I won’t forgive myself if I…”

Pat, pat. “You’re more freaked out about this than I am, Uth. Breathe.”

“You SHOULD be freaked out!” He explodes, all of his emotions finally breaking the surface and spilling. “What if I killed you? What if I DO kill you by waiting too long? Your kids need you, and—and I…” I need you. I’m so selfish. God. 

His breath shudders as he continues, “...When I get you out of there, I think you shouldn’t even talk to me from a distance—I’m more of a danger to you than any help, at this rate. I’m not to be trusted. I have selfish intentions. I want this.”

“No!” Owen moves suddenly with his exclamation, causing Uthman to wince. “God damn it, Uthman, you’ve helped me more than anyone else down here! I don’t care that you lose control now and then—honestly, I don’t even mind if you do end up killing me. I’d prefer that over anything else doing it!”

That takes him out of it. His eyes open wide in horror. “...What? Owen, you—you wouldn’t just let me kill you, would you?”

“Of course not! I just—well…” Owen sighs, and Uthman can tell that he’s curling into himself, receding away the farthest he can in the little space he has. He tries not to notice how much he can feel this, implying that the walls of his stomach are squeezing around him. “...You heard Stinger. I’ve… probably already failed my kids. I don’t care what happens to me, I just… want you to be there.”

Now he’s really concerned. He pushes the welling warmth in his chest, much too literal, aside. “...You haven’t given up, have you? Stinger’s full of it. Even if he isn’t, you should still try, you know.”

“I was supposed to be comforting you, stupid.” 

Uthman laughs a little at that. “...It worked, I think.” 

He becomes aware again of the present situation and urgently starts walking, thankfully recognizing a nearby hallway as a reference point for the distance to his office. “I’m such a hypocrite, I said we shouldn’t wait but I drew this out longer by stopping to argue with you,” he hums, allowing himself to find a little amusement in this. 

As he walks, he notices how much the movement jostles Owen’s weight around, as though he were lugging him around in a bag. That can’t be pleasant. Cursing himself internally, he places a hand on his belly to keep it as still as he can. 

Pat, pat. Owen’s hand meets his, seeming to have caught on.

His face screws up in embarrassment, heat returning to his cheeks. ————————————————

Owen is expelled harmlessly out onto Uthman’s makeshift bed. It’s a lot less warm out here, but he prefers having his full range of motion, which he immediately uses to sit up and stretch his back out with a pop.

He looks up to poor Uthman above him, coughing still. “Uuugh,” he groans, wiping at his mouth. “You okay?” Owen asks gently.

The mascot blinks, then narrows his eyes at him. He clears his throat, composing himself. “I should be asking you that. I wasn’t the one that was nearly eaten alive.” He takes off his labcoat, using it to methodically dry off the other man in place of a towel. 

…Oh, yeah, he’d gotten so used to it in the past… 30 minutes? That he forgot he was absolutely drenched in spit and whatever else.

He crosses his arms, just letting it happen.

“If you had a concussion, it seems to have cleared up. I should check you for burns, though,” Uthman comments idly as he works.

“You gonna undress me?” Owen immediately regrets saying that, shutting his mouth from saying anything further at practically mach 5.

Uthman stops. Even with the fur covering his face, Owen can spot that hint of teal to his cheeks underneath. Actually, it was probably long present. “No, but I was going to ask you to remove them. Even besides possible injuries, your clothes are… probably ruined.” He looks away ashamedly. “I have a change of clothes in here.”

Owen chuckles awkwardly. “...Sorry, didn’t mean it like that.” He sort of did. “I appreciate it, but are you sure you don’t need them?”

“...They… don’t fit anymore, anyways,” Uthman bemoans as he continues to dab at any remaining saliva. Owen frowns sympathetically.

————————————————

Uthman finds nothing out of the ordinary after checking his skin, which is a relief, but also puzzling. Is the acid in a Gi.vanium-based digestive system that weak? Thank god for that design flaw.

The both of them find themselves hit with exhaustion after Owen gets changed and everything settles down, and Uthman… frustratingly hungry, with his stomach no longer full.

A distressing element about his body’s cravings is that they’re not supposed to happen at all. He has no biological need for food. But like a phantom limb, he still experiences the ghost of getting hungry from his memories as a human. 

He wishes it was just that, and that it didn’t manifest in animalistic, predatory instincts.

Having nothing else, he settles on a few granola bars, offering some to Owen, as well. He has to look away from him as he eats.

Uthman tries to convince Owen to go sleep somewhere else tonight, but isn’t able to—he’d have to risk running into another dangerous Case, or collapsing from exhaustion. There’s nowhere else to go. Begrudgingly, he allows it.

They settle into their separate makeshift beds. But… neither of them can sleep, despite how tired they are from the scare of the earlier situation.

“...Hey,” Owen pipes up after a while.

“Mmm?” Uthman barely manages to vocalize.

“...Could I sleep with you?” 

His eyes shoot right open, and he sits up. “What?? I’m sorry, I know you probably got used to it, but I could have killed you earlier, and I’m nervous even about this proximity.”

“I’m just cold,” Owen clarifies, embarrassedly. He feels like a little kid asking to get into their parent’s bed, and he’s a 40 year old man. “...And you’re warm. But I’ll deal.”

…Right. The temperature is low in here to kill germs, like a doctor’s office. He has no way of changing it. Naturally, being drenched probably made him chilly, too—

He sighs. “...Fine. I kind of owe this to you after that, I don’t want you to freeze.” He pulls up his blankets and gestures him over. Owen crawls in and settles next to him, unable to help nuzzling into his fur, sighing as he feels the other’s warmth wash over him. “...Thank you,” he mumbles.

Uthman tenses up. There’s those butterflies in his stomach again… oh, no, that’s physical, actually. It’s growling. His face flushes, turning his head away with a distressed grimace. He’s certain that he heard that. “Do you see what I mean? You really shouldn’t trust me.”

“It’s not a big deal—I mean, maybe you’ll just do that instead of trying to, uh, eat my pancreas, next time,” Owen jokes. Uthman really doesn’t find it funny. He wraps his arms around him, though, selfishly pulling him closer. He paradoxically relaxes, despite his heart beating out of his chest. “...Well, if it happens again, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Owen sticks his tongue out mockingly at him. “Well, it was actually kind of nice, just so you know.” 

Uthman makes a strangled noise at that, hiding his face with his arm. “Please don’t say that.” Owen laughs.

They stop bickering and fall asleep soon after.

[scrubbinn]

Slime HRT 4 Months: Sunset & Sunrise

Content warning: Dark tone, Family trauma

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 I'm writing this a bit sooner than I thought. I don't actually want to write this out, but everyone keeps telling me I'll feel better if I express my feelings. To be honest to myself, I really hope that's the case, I could really use a pick-me-up. 

So I ended up talking with my family. Telling them everything. Not like I could hide it anymore, now that my hair is made of goo. I guess I can write about that first. Might be nice for a bit to just think about myself. I woke up last Sunday to find my hair a lot heavier than normal, it was already pretty gooey, with strands of hair sticking together or just kinda always being wet. It also felt a lot more rough than before, I could find split ends everywhere, everyday. That night though, the change in my body sped into overdrive. I woke up to find some of my hair giving way and sticking to my pillow. It's really weird, like those sandy soaps made of a bunch of spheres. It made it feel like I was wearing a pile of clay on my head. It also suds up super fast. Just a bit of water and my hair turns into a perm of soap bubbles. It doesn't have a smell but it gave me an idea. Plucking some lavender I was growing outside, I stuck some in my hair, after a couple hours my house flooded with the scent of that purple plant. I definitely put too much in, way too overpowering. Still, it's super cool to be able to change my scent. so now I've been looking into soap making recipes, after all, might as well take advantage of it.

But with every upside, there's a bunch of downsides too. Nothing physical of course, well besides the fact there's no way I could pass off sandy sky-blue sludge as normal hair no matter how many hats I put on, and Sundays just happen to be the day that my family likes to get together for brunch. I still haven't told them, I just couldn't. They wouldn't get it. I knew they wouldn't get it. So I made the decision to call my mother, to let her know I was feeling sick and I couldn’t make it. That's all it was supposed to be, just that. But when that phone call was about to end, when she told me she loved me I…

Everything spilled out at that point. It felt like it wasn't even me talking, I just had to sit there trapped in this wrong, wrong, wrong body as words and emotions poured out of my mouth that I didn't have a faucet to turn off. I don’t really even remember what I said, but I know what I told her, what I was doing, the pain I was going through, and the plea for forgiveness. She didn’t speak, not for a while at least. Then I heard it. The three words I didn’t want to hear, before she even spoke I could feel myself mentally barricading myself away from the inevitable blast my psyche was about to receive. “Are you sure?” 

Are you sure?? ARE YOU SURE?! What did that even mean??? Am I sure of what I’m doing? Am I sure everything will go alright? Am I sure I want to smash every mirror that gets near me? No. I knew what she was asking. It was all of them. It was every question. Are you sure it’s safe? Are you sure you can handle the harassment? Are you sure you want to hurt me and the people around you because of this? Maybe that last one isn’t fair to her. I don’t know. It felt like she said it.

I remember that night, when I told my mother I was trans. I was still living with her at that time. She asked the same question, and I told her yes. We talked for a while after that as I explained more of it to her, but when I climbed up to my bedroom, and when I looked back, her face was in her hands, and she had started to cry. She later admitted to me that she was terrified of possible persecution and the hate I’d get by simply existing. But that image was still stuck in my head, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I don’t expect to ever forgive it, and I could tell as I sat in my bed, holding my medication close, she had her head in her hands, holding back tears as she told me she loved me. I just apologized, I don’t know what for. I just felt like I had to. I said that I loved her, she said it again, and I hung up.

I spent the next few hours dissociating in my bed. Simply trying to stop thinking about how badly that all went. Bottling up every emotion I could get my hands on while the others I couldn’t reach in time became tears. It also turns out that goo for hair is really hard to maintain when under a lot of stress. When I came to, most of my hair had fallen onto my bed sheets. Spent way too much time scrubbing it out the scent of lavender. I don’t think I can stand that scent anymore. At least my new hair regrew quickly during my tea break. I don’t really know if writing all this helped. Maybe I’ll just have to sleep on it.

After I cleaned myself up, I spent the rest of the day ignoring my mental health. I just sat on my computer staring at a bunch of games I didn't want to play, and a bunch of videos I didn't want to watch. I sorta just stared at my monitor until I realized I had gotten around ten notifications from friends asking if I was doing alright. My girlfriend had messaged me before the phone call with my mother, and after not receiving a message for six hours, she started to get worried. She practically forced me into a voice call and wanted to make sure I was doing alright, I lied and said I was, she didn't believe me and didn't pry further. We talked for a while until I brought up the phone call on my own. Then she told me she loved me, and said she'd be there for me always. She stayed with me the entire time, as I started crying again, and she let me cry, waited patiently, and then asked if I wanted to watch some silly videos. I really did. Sometimes it's really hard to remember there's still people that do care about you. I'm sure my mother cares in her own way, even if she's not aware how much it messed me up. I don't know how things will go in the future, if there's going to be even more pain. But I think I'll be ok, at the very least there are people who can pick me up when I can't keep running, people who will slow down and walk with me. I'll be ok, I'm gonna run to see what the future holds.

Update: So, I'm not really sure how to say this. Writing about yesterday really helped me out so maybe today will help as well. I was working my shift today, construction work, and my legs suddenly gave out under me while I was carrying a heavy frame. It was like my bones just bent, and I couldn't stand up right. I basically got flattened but there weren't any serious injuries Or anything. My bones weren't broken, no bad cuts, just what's definitely going to be a lot of bruising. I got forced to take some extended medical leave. Paid of course, but I guess this means the next few months are just going to be focused on my changes while I wait around in bed. Which is good, I could use a change of pace.

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[sticktopia]

Happy Accidents (RocketPrincess AU)

When a drunken one-night stand leaves Mango with an accidental pregnancy, he has to figure out how to keep his secret safe. Turns out, it's easier said than done when the baby's other parent is literally his boss.

⚠️Warning: Mpreg⚠️

Chapter 4

It had been a few days since Mango’d been to work. Today was his first day back. He was kinda nervous. But he’d been taking the medication. He should be normal enough to get through the day without being suspicious.

Mango stepped into the building casually. He walked to his office with no issues whatsoever. It seemed Clay kept her promise. Good. The last thing he needed was-

“CONGRATULATIONS!!!!” Mango yelped as he fell backwards on his butt. He winced before looking up. His office was full of both familiar and unfamiliar faces; some belonged to his underlings, others were the mercenaries, and some were the medical staff. Mango stared at them all with wide and confused eyes.

“Wh-what-“ Smith stepped forward and offered Mango a hand. Mango took his hand and was hoisted up. “I-I-I don’t-“

“You’re pregnant Mango! This is something that needs to be celebrated!!!” A nurse said as she pulled Mango into the room.

“Coral!” Smith followed the pair into the room. Upon entry, everyone swarmed Mango with “congratulations” and “we’re so happy for you!” Mango gripped the strap of his bag, trying to keep his breath steady.

“P-pregnant? N-no y-you’re mis-“

“It’s no mistake! We saw it!” Another nurse said, stepping forward excitedly. She gripped Mango’s hands and excitedly hugged him. “This is so exciting! No one in a high-up position has ever been pregnant before!”

“Wh-where did you hear I was pregnant? I-I’m not!” Mango said, trying to keep his calm.

“We saw it! In the report! You’re pregnant!” Mango buried his face in his hands. No one was supposed to know he was pregnant till he felt more comfortable about it. Well, there go all the plans he had.

“Coral, Venus. Stop harassing the man.” Smith said sternly. Primal then grabbed the two nurses by the back of their shirts.

“I think you two need to leave.” She said before tossing the two out.

“I believe all of you must leave now.” Hazard said sternly.

“And if ya don’t.” Ballista turned their face into a gun. “We start blastin’.”

The room was immediately cleared out within minutes. Mango stood in the middle of the room hugging himself as the gang of highly skilled mercenaries exited. Well, except for Smith. He ,instead, approached Mango.

“Hey. You ok Mango?” The head agent asked, placing a gentle, yet caring, hand on his shoulder. Mango tensed and sniffled a bit.

“Y-ya know… I really didn’t want anyone to know yet…” Mango admitted. “I-I’m still… still trying to process it all myself… I, I guess the whole company knows now huh?”

“Unfortunately. News like this spreads like wildfire. You and I both know this.” Smith said softly. Mango sniffled and wiped away a stray tear.

“Stupid hormones.” Mango sniffled as he pulled away from the agent. Smith’s hand hovered in place before slowly, hesitantly, lowering.

“Do you want to go-“

“No!” Mango snapped, turning back to the agent. “No. I’m not going back home! I’ve already been gone for three days! That’s three days too long!”

As Mango rambled, he took off his bag and started pulling out the blueprints and papers. Smith stood and watched as Mango threw himself into his work. It was impressive how fast Mango was able to shake off the initial shock, but it still worried Smith. He approached the slightly shorter stick, his hands placing themselves on Mango’s shoulders once again.

“Mango!” Mango looked up at Smith with glossy eyes. Smith’s eyes softened as he saw the stress and fear in his friend’s eyes. With a sigh, the head agent stepped around the desk and pulled the distressed technician into his embrace. Mango stiffened before relaxing and embracing the pseudo hollow as well. Mango trembled in his embrace, terrified and stressed.

“I-I didn’t want this! I-I-I just-I wanted to keep it quiet! I didn’t need the whole company knowing that I was pregnant!!! It’s embarrassing!!!” Mango sobbed. Smith held his friend tightly. The stick was clearly in a lot of distress. He figures it must’ve taken a lot of courage for the expecting stick to even get in the car to get to work this morning. Smith stood silent, rubbing Mango’s back and holding him tight. After a few more moments of this, Mango suddenly pulled away.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to do that.” Mango sniffled, wiping his tears.

“Hey hey, it’s ok Mango. I’m your friend.” Smith chuckled as he approached the technician once more. “I’m gonna be here for you no matter what you know.”

“Really?” Mango sniffled, turning to face the other stick. Smith smiled and nodded.

“Promise it. And I don’t break my promises.” Smith said, taking his sunglasses off. Mango sniffled and smiled a bit.

“Yeah… Th-thanks… Pivot.” Mango said, looking away.

“Oh Ho Ho.” Pivot leaned into Mango a bit. “Using my first name without a threat? That’s a first. Am I gonna be hearing that more?”

“Shut up.” Mango softly chuckled as he stepped away from the agent. “I have work to do. Get outta here.”

“Alright alright I’m going.” Pivot chuckled as he walked out. Just before the agent left the technician’s office, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. Watching Mango work for a moment.

“If anyone starts harassing you,” Mango looked up, watching as Smith spoke. “Call me and I’ll come running.”

“Oh my creators you’re such a nerd.” Mango playfully scoffed. Pivot simply chuckled before placing his glasses on his face and exiting the office.

*********

Everywhere Mango went for the next few days, he felt like there were eyes on him. Everyone was staring at him, whispering about him. 

“He banged the boss.”

“He’s pregnant with the boss’ child.”

“What a slut.”

“No wonder he rose through the ranks so fast.”

Mango tried to keep his cool. Acting like he heard nothing. Like he wasn’t pregnant and nobody had anything to say. But his knees shook with every step, threatening to buckle as he put his weight on each leg. 

“M-Mr Tango!” The sound of the voice jolted Mango from his thoughts. The stick whirled around to face a younger looking stick.

“I heard that you were expecting! Is this true?!” They excitedly asked. Mango stiffened for a sec before relaxing. Or, doing his best to look relaxed.

“I’m not expecting. Whatever you’re hearing from others is a lie.” Mango stated. He walked by the stick, but they followed him.

“You know, it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you are pregnant. It’s just, every employee who got pregnant working with Rocket Corp quit their jobs! You’ve been head technician for only a few months now. Are you really going to give such a title up for a baby?” Mango paused and turned to the stick.

“Look kid. I’m not going to give up my position for anything. This is the best paying job I’ve ever had and I refuse to lose it. Something like pregnancy won’t make me quit.” Mango said sternly. The stick smirked as Mango finished his statement. That confused Mango greatly.

“What? What are you smirking about?” Mango demanded. The stick chuckled and hummed.

“Oh nothing. But you totally just admitted that you were pregnant.” They teased. Mango’s face dropped in horror as he thought about what he said.

“I-I didn’t say I was pregnant! You’re putting words in my mouth!” The stick laughed as they poked Mango. Mango smacked their hand away with irritation.

“Stop it.” Mango growled.

“You totally are pregnant. According to everyone here, you’re normally so calm and patient and like a dad. But here you are. Snippy and short fused. Plus, the face you made when I said you told on yourself was all the confirmation I needed.” The stick smirked. Mango was close to truly snapping when a hand was suddenly placed on the stick’s shoulder. The stick turned around, their smirk quickly falling as they saw who it was.

It was Victim. And they were PISSED.

“Excuse me intern. I would appreciate it if you DID NOT harass my head technician.” Victim said with a very irritated smile.

“O-oh! M-Mx Victim! I was-“

“I do not care what you were doing. Now if you excuse us, we have a meeting to attend.” Victim said as they tightly gripped the intern’s shoulder. The intern winced before Victim released them and walked by.

“Come Mr Mango.” Vic simply said. Mango glanced back at the snooty intern before following his boss. If Mango was being honest, he didn’t want to follow Vic around. It made his stomach churn. He felt lightheaded and clammy; gross.

“I will have to fire that intern. I will not stand such toxic behavior in my workplace.” Victim scoffed as they readjusted their tie. Mango just awkwardly shifted behind the boss. He really was starting to feel sick now.

“Mr Mango.” Mango’s breath was caught in his throat as he nearly bumped into the hollow head.

“Y-yes sir?”

“Are you alright? You seem to be much more unfocused than you normally are.” Vic said as they pressed the button on an elevator. Mango gulped and rubbed his arm.

“I-it’s nothing. Rumors are rumors after all.” Mango said as the two entered the elevator.

“That is but a fact. Rumors are not to be believed unless the person the rumor is about steps up to say something. Their word makes it final.” Vic hummed as they pressed a button, the door closed and the elevator began to rise. Mango sighed and rubbed his face. If he was going to see this through, his boss should at least know.

“Well… the rumor is true…” Mango muttered. Vic glanced up at the head technician with their eyes, studying Mango’s face and body language. They hummed and nodded.

“Ah. So it is true then.”

“Well, no one was really supposed to know. But I guess we have some nosey nurses on our hands.”

“Hm. I will have to fire them.”

“What?! You don’t-“

“Sharing a patient’s information without consent is illegal, you know. And if they are so quick to share something as simple as a positive pregnancy, who knows what else they will share about our company if they were to get their hands on such information.” Mango hummed as he thought about it. From what he was aware of, that was quite true.

“So, do you think there’s something you can do about the rumors?” Mango nervously asked.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do. Rumors abide by no rules. No matter how hard you try to enforce them.” Victim said apologetically. Mango simply hummed in acknowledgement, unsure of what else to say. Unfortunately, Victim didn’t have anything more to say either. Causing the elevator to become uncomfortably quiet. The silence continued to make Mango queasy. Mango inhaled softly and wiped his lip. This anxiety was going to kill him. He needed to say something! But what was it that he could say without sounding weird?

As Mango cycled through things he could talk about in his head, the only options that showed were remembering that night or telling him the baby is his. Mango gagged on his anxiety. He leaned on the back wall to try and keep himself upright. Vic noticed the motion and half turned to the technician.

“Are you alright Mr Mango? Is the elevator making you feel sick?”

“A-a bit.” Mango groaned. “M-motion sickness.”

Vic was about to speak when the elevator stopped and the door opened. Mango immediately dashed out the door and to the nearest bathroom. If he was going to blow chunks, he wasn’t going to do it in the hallway for everyone and anyone to see.

Mango made it to the toilet just in time. He coughed and choked on the anxiety. His head spun as his heart raced. This stress was not good for Mango whatsoever. Once he was done, the orange stick exited the bathroom; only to see Victim standing there.

“Are you well Mr Mango?” Victim quietly asked. Mango glanced up and down the hall, checking to see if anyone was approaching.

“Just, normal symptoms. Nothing I can’t handle.” Mango said, looking away from the hollowhead.

“Hm. If this does continue to be an issue for you, I could send you on paternity leave.” Victim says.

“Well, that is something I needed to ask you about.” Mango said as he and the boss continued their way to the board room. “Since I’m the head of technology, I was hoping to be let on paternity leave before the pregnancy starts showing.”

“To keep your secret?”

“More or less for safety. I mean, I don’t think working around explosives and chemicals while pregnant is very safe.” Vic hummed and nodded in consideration.

“Yes. That sounds about right.” Vic says as the pair stepped up to the board room. “We shall continue this conversation later. Right now, we must meet with the other members.”

Chapter 3-(Chapter 4)-Chapter5

[draco-after-dark]

Hmm imagine if feral Jd came early and started to raise branch (like eldest)

Imagine in the troll village (14yr) branch was getting resources and came across Jd (he is feral that time) , then branch started training him, even giving him a saddle so he could ride him.

Then trolls 1 came(nobody knew feral had wings cause he never really used them, and I headcanon that his fur-cape is his wing accessories that branch gave him. )

At the creek betrayal) branch tried suffocating creek with the help of feral until the snack pack moved them aside

-time skip to the end

The time feral finally showed his wings was when they started singing "just dance" the snack pack and the other trolls were surprised by his wings when he started flying with his glow pattern. After that they started questioning branch about the wings

-trolls 2 the missing scenes are the same-

Escaping lonesome flats

As chomper was biting branch feral started to unfold his wings and show his glow pattern, they were all surprised by the glow that they didn't realize feral cutting off the mustache, and they officially escaped lonesome flats

At the rock village, feral was too busy looking at all the trolls he didn't realize that branch turned into a rock troll, once he realize he tried to save him but ended up turning into a rock troll

When poppy started singing he knew this was his time, he flew up to the middle and started glowing as they were singing.

-Trolls 3-

Feral sneaks out of the village in an attempt to find floyd once he got to the bottle he started using his claws that unfortunately didn't work. He told branch about this(in the middle of the wedding) and that's when poppy realized they were brozone.

Jd couldn't sing cause he still doesn't know the normal language so he just joined them in the song, Clay and Spruce realized that Jd wasn't really talking but decided to question them after saving floyd

(Bruce, Clay and poppy got captured when they got into a reunion with floyd cause they were too late to escape to the vents)

When Branch started singing "better place" feral got out his wings and flew with Branch on his back while singing, Bruce, clay and floyd were surprised by this but they joined in the song (the family harmony still work just like in your au)

This is basically a "what if Branch found feral" version, it's just a random shit that came to my mind while doing my exams... I'm bad at writing stories or something so it's okay if u judge my awful writing skills 👌 I mostly got this idea from httyd, I'm just too obsessed with your feral au😀 I just realized this sounds like a mix of feral and eldest😭

Don't mind my spelling I was in a rush coz I'm writing this on my exam(I'm online class)

I mean considering I'm Friends with the Eldest & Youngest creator it wouldn't be that weird to merge the two stories into something. We already made a Fusion design of Eldest and Feral. Their name is Fetch. Honestly surprised we haven't done it already but to be fair the only Au I work on is my Feral JD au so. *shrugs* Also not sure if you want like my input on the "What if Branch and JD reunited earlier" or not but here my take on the idea.

It would defiantly be interesting having Branch and JD interact so early on. Both Grey and scared of the world. Branch being more terrified then JD since he's been living out in the woods and already had his fair share of critter encounters by this point. I don't think Branch and JD would recognize each other right away. It's already been ten years by this point and they both look very different from what the other remembers. Both of them being grey would sort of peak the others interest but also knowing Branch and his habit for spiraling into the worse case scenario. He would probably think if he stays grey he's going to turn feral like the other grey troll he keeps encountering. JD would be the first to realize who Branch is when one day the two get close enough that JD recognizes the green leafy vest Branch is wearing as Floyd's. That would cause JD to try and steal it back from Branch until Branch yells.

"Let GO! It's all I have left of my brothers!"

JD would immediately stop and just start really looking at Branch. Sniffing him too. Nether of them know the others name because JD can't talk and Branch just always stayed silent anytime they encountered each other. Eventually JD pulls out Branch's old glasses from the band days and gently places them on his head. They both probably cry and share and big hug after that.

First movie would defiantly be interesting given the future plans I have for my au. I don't know if i would change much second movie wise. You'll just have to wait for the rock saga for that info.

I like the third movie ideas. Especially the bit about Clay and Bruce being confused as hell by JD being basically silent. Specially because of how loud and talkative he was when they were all trolling's.

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

hihii!! could you write bluebell for setsuno? <33

cw: Yandere, Delusional Behaviors / Thoughts, Gore, Organs, Allusions to Kidnapping, Brief Mention of Past Cheating, Brief Allusion to Religion, Suicide / Accidental Suicide, Quirk Used in a Metaphorical Sense (Not Accurate), Unhealthy Relationships, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Gender-Neutral Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: Sorry this took so long! I've just been so swamped with work that I haven't had a chance to get around to it, especially with Kinktober here. Hopefully you like this! It was very fun to write. This was a prompt from "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" and can be found here . REQUESTS ARE OPEN—check pinned post. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

PROMPT: Bluebell (Humility, Gratitude): "I'll be your humble servant, if only you'd let me."

word count: Approximately 2k words.

Touya doesn’t understand.

It’s not quite computing in his brain, or perhaps he doesn’t want it to.

You were the perfect person for him—truly. You were there after his fall, you’d been the one to extend a loving and tender hand to him after he’d been saved by Master Overhaul. Trash to everyone but honored by Master Overhaul, then cherished by you. There’s no way that anything else could be possible.

He’d frozen his heart, turned it to sheer stone and ice. Touya didn’t ever want to fall in love again. He couldn’t risk it. If he did, he’d find himself perched on a balcony ready to jump again, only to be ensnared by the hands of a faux hero that only wanted to save his sorry self for the glory. He was just a story to everyone. He was just a bad case of the flu, just something that was important to draw attention to before he disappeared within the millions of cases flocking across the world. Touya knew it all was a lie, knew that he could still see that cheating bitch’s face in his mind.

She was pretty at one point, but it melded into clay and maggots the longer he thought about it, but those disgusting things melted away after a while until you were all Touya could think about.

If Master Overhaul had been his second chance at life, then you were his protestant calling. You were brought here for a reason that you don’t like to tell Touya, but he doesn’t mind if you never want to say it because he already knows the truth: Master Overhaul knew he’d one day need a beautiful lover like you, that he needed another person to offer him what he’d lost, what he’d deserve.

So why—why are you standing before him, a terrified expression plastered across those gorgeous apples of your face?

“P-Please stop. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Touya takes a step forward, but you quickly shuffle backwards. Why are you doing that? Stop it. Touya’s just trying to get closer so he can pull you into an embrace, can squeeze the small of your back to reassure you that he doesn’t mean any harm.

“Yes, you do. I’ve noticed it a lot recently. You’re growing distant from me, and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Did I recently do something to upset you, sweetie?”

You blink rapidly, a dashing line dotting down your face until it reaches your suddenly agape mouth. There’s something unfamiliar flashing across your eyes, something that Touya’s never seen before. Or maybe he has. Is this what he saw looking in the mirror right before he tried to kill himself? Are you reflecting what he felt just so that he doesn’t have to feel isolated right now? Oh, surely you must. You’re so kind, and perfect, and dear, and just a little peach that he could rest in the palms of his hands and take a swift bite out of.

“I genuinely don’t understand what you’re saying. You haven’t done anything wrong, but I… I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t remember ever being close to you.”

Twitching. Are his eyes twitching? They can’t be. He could never be annoyed with you. No, of course not. He’s just annoyed at this set of circumstances. You’re trying to play it cool so that you don’t upset him. It’s because you’re just oh-so considerate of him. It makes Touya’s chest ache, makes him feel so special, so important, so remembered.

“I must have. You don’t have to lie to me. I won’t get angry. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I got angry at you for being upset?”

Touya doesn’t understand what’s staring back at him. Why are you suddenly looking at him in terror? Why is your bottom lip trembling? Why have you started wringing your hands and slowly backing away from him? Why do you look like you’re on the verge of tears? Why? Why why why why why why whyre why heyw ehwy whey wywhy e

“Please. Um, leave me alone. I don’t. I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. I was k—kidnapped, um. Master Overhaul didn’t tell me I was here to… He… He just said I had to take care of… I don’t know you.”

Squeaking engines scratch like records in the back of his mind, Touya’s teeth clench, his fists ball, and he breathes out gently and heavily. The air whistles between his teeth whenever he cinches his eyes shut and tilts his head away.

“Baby. I… You’re hurting me. You don’t want to leave me, do you? And after all of the tender moments we’ve shared… after every time I saw that stunning smile spread across your face whenever you looked at me? All of your coy glances… your shy attempts to remain casual. I know that you wanted to take our relationship slow, that’s why you never hold my hand or kiss me, right?”

A genuine sob bursts forth from your throat, something hearty and something monstrous, and Touya’s eyes snap open again to see you fumbling away, crying fat crocodile tears and stuttering like you didn’t know what to say to him.

“I—I’m going to tell Master Overhaul that you’re—you’re keeping me from doing what he asked. I’ll tell him you’re harassing me.”

Why would you need to lie like that!? WHY would you need to tell Master Overhaul something like THAT!? DON’T YOU LOVE HIM!?

Touya starts to awkwardly chuckle, swaying, dizzy. He feels drunk, he feels like he’s on the verge of passing out, as if he’s on the verge of losing his mind, exploding into tiny molecules that will fade back into sand and stardust, that’ll be chemicals beginning their half-lives for the rest of eternity.

“Heh… Heheh… You… Why are you saying these things, baby? Why are you… Master Overhaul didn’t… He didn’t kidnap you. He brought you here for me. Yes. That’s why you’re here. Just… Just please stop lying to me, okay? I love you.”

A tiny wail leaves you, and your feet dance until you collapse backwards, until your body collides with the wall and you’re sliding down it with aghast features, with skin taut and pulled back, with bleary red eyes and sleepiness, with tremors shuddering through your body.

“No… No! No, I wasn’t. I’m here just to… to—take care of some old man and little girl! Please, stop. Stop. I don’t know you. You’re not my boyfriend. I don’t love you!”

He growls. He doesn’t mean to, but he growls. He pounces forward a few steps until he’s only a meter away from you. It’s just enough space between the two of you so you stop panicking and lying, and it’s just enough space for him to brace against one of his knees and clutch his claws against his chest. Touya pleads, his voice cracks and he can feel tears start to tingle within his own eyes.

“I need you to stop speaking like that. I’m yours. And I’ll be yours forever. Just stop saying such hurtful things. Can’t you see? I’ll be your humble servant, if only you’d let me!!!”

Your hands grip the side of your face, and you’re hyperventilating. Nothing's making sense. Touya doesn’t want you to look at him like that, never wanted to see that expression on your face—especially not whenever he’s the one receiving it! That makes him feel like such a bad bad baaaaaaaaaaaaad boyfriend!! Why can he never do anything right!?

Visceral, primal, animalistic fear and rage bite him back.

“Leave me alone, you creep!”

Shredding machines and gears right through his body, wood chippers eating him alive, gore and guts splattering like piñatas pouring stale candy and frothy eyeballs across yellow grass. Touya shatters, and his side rings with agony whenever it slams onto the hardwood floor. Maybe he’s crying also, but he’s chewing his tongue and gagging against the way it rolls behind his front teeth. Touya’s long nails nearly slice his skin open whenever he winces against the heartbreak and the machetes slicing through the underbrush of his calloused trauma.

“Baby… Baby… Don’t say that… Don’t call me that… I love you… I love you, I love you so much. You’re killing me, you’re killing me, baby. What do I have to do?”

How can he prove his devotion to you? How can he show you just how much he genuinely and totally loves you? He’d do whatever you needed, he’d do anything for you, he’d do everything that will make you love him. He’d fling himself down before your feet, would lick the bottoms of your shoes, would prostrate himself to let you do all of your heart’s desires to him. You could crush his back, could rip his sinuses out, could fracture his kidneys, could slurp up his ligaments—do it!! Do it!! DO IT, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

“I don’t want to be here! I just wanna go home! Stop reminding me that I—that I was—Please just shut up!”

“I’m always yours—always… from the moment I fell in love with you, I—”

Touya’s heart was thumping. It was beating against his sternum in ways that reminded him of wars, of airplanes humming and whirring their deadly fumes across the innocent plains, of the death rattle springing to life in its evil deeds, in throats, in limbic systems that don’t know just when to quit. It was so real, so painful, the pain. Touya could visualize it, could see it, could feel his own blood drumming within his fingertips, could tell that life was ending, could tell that you were yelling now, you were yelling for someone other than him and it was driving Touya insane. What could he do? Your heart’s a weapon to him, digging into him and twisting those fishy scales from his body, and Touya wanted to do the same to you, wanted to give you his heart, wanted to—

“Take it. Take my heart, let me show you how you’re hurting me—”

It was in his mind, so real, his heart is his only defense, his only backup, it was the only way to make you see just how much he absolutely adores you, he jerks forward, crawling, hands still over his lungs, breathing, seeing—

“Just. See, see how much I love you, I have to—to—”

It happens too fast. Something sharp and unbelievable, something that Touya never thought was possible. He blinked, and could feel the pressure against the pads of his fingers before he could even comprehend it. It tore right through his body, slicked through him like it was a wraith in the night, like it was metaphysical and wasn’t even truly a genuine organ. His eyes are vibrating whenever he slowly peels his hands away from his body, whenever everything starts eating away at the edges of his vision, flurries of gnats and fuzzy burnweeds, and Touya looks down.

There—there, his heart—his heart—

“I—”

Blood glurks from his mouth instead of words, but Touya doesn’t stop shambling closer. His hands fall, and he watches his heart hit the ground and bounce a few paces ahead of him. You’re shrieking, you’re staring at him with this abhorred expression, and he can hear Master Overhaul Master Overhaul Master Overhaul Master Overhaul over and over in his head. Jealousy begins to decorate his gasping breath, and begins to bleed onto his shirt. Why isn’t his name on your lips?

Touya focuses on his heart, everything is getting slurred into soupy rinds and he can’t help but beg that it works, that you’ll finally submit yourself to him in death, that you’ll see his love, that you’ll see that you ds ee waht it meens to jim if ouy wulde jusst

L o

V ee e

Me

[rainbowcaleb]

A snippet sneak peek at the upcoming fic final chapter update (as voted by you!)! This one is to the theme of goofy Nein.

{thank you @quinn-of-aebradore for the lovely header you gifted me!}

“Caduceus, is that story true?” Essek cut across the noise with his simple question. They all turned to look back at Caduceus.

There was a grin fighting against the placid look on his face. “Who’s to say?” 

Jester let out a peal of laughter. “Oh my gosh, Deucey, I didn’t know you had it in you! Being around the Traveler tonight really rubbed off on you.” She slapped him on the back like a proud parent. 

“I’m keeping my eye on you.” Beau looked around the group. “All of you. I got fists for the first person to show signs of possession.” 

“Hopefully that will be very unnecessary.” Caleb sighed. “Certainly feels like we’ve already had that trial and came out only mostly intact.”

Veth peered at Caduceus. “I like my hot bod too much to hand it over to some pile of earth.”

“Bleh.” Jester stuck out her tongue. “I’m gonna have nightmares about being a clay creature now.” She raised her arms in front of her, jerking them like a puppet. “I’d be so scary.”

“Terrifying.” Fjord agreed, although his joking tone seemed to have a drop of sincerity in it.

“Would I be scary?” Yasha pointed to herself.

“You’re the tallest, so yes.” Veth nodded.

Beau started to say something but Jester suddenly threw her arms up.

“Oh!” Her eyes were round.

Fjord was so startled at her outburst he almost slid off the bench. “What is it?” He said urgently, hand going to his belt.

“Incoming Traveler announcement!” She pressed a finger to her mouth in concentration as she listened. Then she laughed. “Ooh, he’s really planned for everything. Okay! Well, gosh, there’s an orgy happening in the big central hut for any who wish to join. Clothes optional.”

“It's an orgy, I hope clothes are optional.” Beau muttered.

[aidontdraw]

I gave up on rendering...

Spoiler scene for Konoha Crush: Next Generation.

Kankuro was the first one up to make a pot of coffee. Sasuke the next. Followed by Menma. Finally Gaara & Boruto, only to see Naruto a minute later.

“Did you start the kettle?” Gaara asked.

“Don’t worry, princess Naruto’s tea is on the counter.” Kankuro joked.

“Thank you.” Gaara first placed Boruto in a still sleepy Naruto’s arms, then walked over to the counter.

Pouring Naruto a cup of no caffeine tea, with honey. It was his favorite, but it could get tiring after 9 months. If he was being honest, more like 2, almost 3 years without coffee. It felt like a lifetime.

“Love ya’.” Naruto smiled at the tea before him.

Gaara smiled, and kissed Naruto's forehead, then made a bottle for Boruto. He handed it off to his husband, who provided to feed their child in between his own tea. Still sleepy from the night before.

“Need any help?” Sasuke asked awkwardly.

Gaara looked around, “there’s nothing you can do.”

Sasuke sat down on the corner seat of the table watching the performance of a lifetime. They all moved together in synch, each knowing the next part of the routine. Kankuro and Gaara swapped places to focus on different parts of breakfast.

Menma seemed to share his fathers attributes to the morning, and not his mothers. Already acutely awake and planning his day. He would be able to go straight to school after breakfast was done.

Gaara scraped the bottom of the pan, pulling up any bits of bacon that attached itself. Thick popping grease created a perfect place for the eggs. Nice and fried in bacon fat.

“Menma,” Gaara announced, “put your homework on the table. I want to look it over.”

“Yes dad.” Menma reached over for his book bag, taking out a few sheets of paper.

Gaara said, “Kankuro, switch.”

“Yeah-yeah.” Kankuro got up, coffee still in hand as he took over egg duty.

“Actually, you might be better suited to this,” Gaara admitted.

“Hah?” Kankuro cracked open two eggs.

“My homeworks on the history of puppets,” Menma said excitedly. The years of indoctrination by his uncle worked too well, “I did my report on Lord Sisori.”

Sasuke's face twisted in confusion.

Naruto calculated in his head, looked over to Sasuke, “They’re at the Third Ninja War Unit right now.”

“Still,” Saskue asked, “Sasori?”

“Yeah! He’s amazing! His 100 puppet technique saved so many lives during the Third Ninja War. He was basically able to be his own army.” Menma recited facts, like his mother, he was a bit of a show off.

“Sisori is an important figure here.” Naruto admitted.

“Sisori?” Sasuke confirmed.

Kankruo and Gaara switched places, the new puppet master of Sunagakure said, “Like it or not… His techniques revolutionized modern puppetry.”

Sasuke’s face contorted again, glancing back over to Naruto. Boruto in his arms, getting a pat on the back. Then spitting up a bit on a towel and smiling a toothless grin.

“You want to mention that he didn’t actually turn the sand red. Most of the battle fields were near the Sisori Clift Side, by the Rivers Nation. The ground there is iron rich clay.” Kankuro said after finishing a rough read of the paper, “That’s what gave it the red color.”

“Yeah, but the enemy didn’t know that. So they just assumed it was so thick with the blood of his victims that it stained the ground.” Naruto added.

“Yep! It's a great example of Sunagakure’s resourcefulness. You want to use everything you can against your enemy… Including their own stupidity.” Kankuro said, “Most people don’t know anything about this fuc<i>-ggen</i> place. They die before they even reach the gates.”

“That’s not important.” Menma said confidently.

“It is. Imagine you went against Lord Sisori,” Naruto transformed into teaching mode, it was natural after all these years, “You’ve heard terrifying things, that he’s killed so many. You have a rudimentary idea of what the desert should look like. You get to the battlefield, and it looks nothing like that. It's red. Blood red. Do you think you’d be afraid?”

“No.”

Naruto chuckled, “Okay… do you think someone else might be afraid?”

“Maybe?” Menma shrugged.

“They would be.” The first time Naruto saw that place, he thought the ground was stained with blood too, “People make stupid decisions when they're scared. He knew that and used it to his advantage.”

“That's kinda cool… I guess.”

Sasuke tried to enter the conversation, “Ya’ know, Sakura fought him once.”

“She did?!”

“Yes,” Naruto sighed, and glared at Sasuke, “It was arguably the official start of the Fourth Ninja War.”

“I thought it started because of the Gokage Summit.” Menma said in confusion. That's what a lot of the history textbooks would say. It was a clear line in the sand, when the Gokage formally joined forces against the Akatsuki.

“Well, yes, but also, war is a funny thing. There are many things that lead up to it and it's hard to ever say when it really starts.” Naruto said.

“What do you think started it?”

Gaara answered quickly, “The Third Shinobi War.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“After it ended the Dynamos and Kages agreed to enter a disarmament, causing many villages to lose a majority of their funding.” Gaara explained, “The loss of money ment villages had to decide on whether or not they could pay for veterans benefits. Most decided they couldn’t. Leaving several very powerful ninja without a way to earn an income from the state. Many went rogue.”

“Okay?”

“Of those that went rogue, were the members of the Akatsuki. All people who played a part in the Third Ninja War. All trying to create eternal peace, due to the issues they faced in the Third War.”

Naruto added, “Your fathers right, because of all of that we entered a dark age. Without a reason to fight, there was no reason to pass down knowledge. Many ninja families were killed off, in fear that they still had power. When they died their histories died with them.”

“So war is good?” Menma still couldn't comprehend the complexities of war at his young age. As he shouldn’t. The young boy should be writing histories of heroes who saved the day. Something that would carry hope for the future.

Naruto said, “No.”

“War is complicated.” Gaara added.

“Heavy topics for breakfast,” Sasuke noted as he ate his eggs that were done in the middle of their long winded speeches.

“We were going to leave it at Lord Sisori’s accomplishments in the Third Ninja War… but somebody had different ideas.” Naruto glared at him.

“Tch.”

“When would you say the Fourth Ninja War started, Mr. Sasuke?” Menma asked.

Who responded with, “Konoha Crush.”

“What's that?”

“It was when-

“It's how me and your father met.” Naruto said, glaring at his ex.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Gaara said, “Your mother showed me great compassion, and our relationship bloomed from there.”

“And it had nothing to do with the Fourth War. It was a fringe group who attacked Konoha.” Naruto added.

“I’d hardly call Suna a fringe group…” Sasuke scoffed.

“I’m talking about The Sound.”

“We attacked Konoha?” Menma couldn't comprehend that. They had been allies since before he was born. His mother was from there, his cousin was from there, they visited often.

“Yes.” Gaara tried not to shy away from his own past.

“Does that mean Shikadai might be my enemy one day?”

“No,” Naruto said confidently, “We’re in an age of peace.”

“Plus, there are many treaties in place to ensure that Konoha and Sunagakure remain allies.” Kankuro tried to help out.

Menma was still concerned, “How do we know they’ll stay?”

“Because you and Shikadai exist,” Naruto accidentally placed a heavy burden onto his child's shoulders, “You all will ensure that our treaties will live on in the future.”

“Oh.”

“Now enough talk about war… Finish up your breakfast.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Killing Me Softly Part Two: A Stay of Execution - Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Tagging: @mortal--soul @yourwinchesterbros @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @ritasantosworld @bl4ckt00thgr1n @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @nu1freakshow @oureternalbond @the-wandering-lunatic @lexondeck @keyweegirlie @theplacewhereallthedemonsgo

Killing Me Softly Series:

Part One: Livid - You and Tig are at an impasse

You don’t call him, and he doesn’t call you. Tig figures this is the way it dies. Not with a bang like he expected but with a silence so oppressive it strangles the life out of the only healthy relationship he’s ever known.

There’s no leeway from either side. As much as he doesn’t want to, he understands your point of view.

Luann had given you back your sanity after what Omar Ghanezi had done to you. She was the one that had found you, scrubbing your skin raw in one of the shower stalls at Cara Cara. You’d been freelancing for the three Ghanezi brothers because Cara Cara was just getting it’s footing, and Luann couldn’t give you enough hours to pay the rent. She was the one that patched you up in the aftermath, tending to the physical wounds and the ones that scarred your fucking soul because you couldn’t just forget shit like that. She had been the one to talk you down, when you had a 22. Calibre pressed to your temple because Omar Ghanezi had come at you again and this time it had ended with three bullets in his chest and one in his head. She’d been the one to give you an alibi, to help you bury his body on the outskirts of Charming.

Luann Delaney, the woman who had given you back your life, who’d lost her own in a fucking ditch at the edge of the road with her head caved in and her skirt hiked up because Georgie Caruso didn’t want the competition.

Tig didn’t like it any more than you did. She was an ally to the club, a partner in Cara Cara and Ottos’s old lady. She deserved better than this, but his hands were tied on the matter and until Clay gave the order, there was nothing he could do.

Now that Tig isn’t seeing you, he has a lot more free time on his hands and he throws himself into making all of the minuscule adjustments to his bike, that he’s been putting off. It’s exhausting and it’s time consuming, but it feels good to work with his hands, to focus on something that doesn’t make his heart feel like it’s shattering into a million pieces.

There’s always been something about the way you enter the room that alters the air space, Tig doesn’t know what it is but it usually makes him feel just a little lighter, puts a bounce in his step. When he glances over his shoulder and sees you standing there in the doorway of his garage, he feels something inside of him die because he knows that this is the end and despite everything, he’s not prepared for it. He turns his attention back to the bike, but his hearts not in it anymore, his fingers fumble on the spanner and his focus wavers.

The scent of your perfume floods him, that soothing lavender with the soft citrus undertone, it flushes through his system, igniting all of his nerve endings because his mind might know what’s happening, but his body is already responding to you the way it always does. He startles when he feels you wrap your arms around his waist, the weight of your cheek in between his shoulder blades and the softness of your curves hugging him.  

He sets down the wrench, his oil-stained palms coming to rest over yours, his fingers settling within the grooves of your knuckles. He doesn’t want to turn around because he’s too terrified of breaking the spell, of snapping the fragile connection that seems to be wavering in between the two of you.

“When Luann died it was one of the worst days of my life.” You tell him, your voice muffled by the fabric of his overalls. “It felt like someone had taken a hammer to my world and smashed all of those pieces that I worked so hard trying to put back together again.”

Tig knows, he was there that night that Unser came to tell you. He’d held you as you fell apart, tears staining his kutte as he cradled you close. He’d felt each and every one of those violent sobs as they wracked your body.

“I wasn’t thinking the other night.” You confess, closing your eyes and exhaling deeply. “I heard he was back in the country, and it was like I was back there again in that moment and all of that rage…” You trailed off, searching for the words but finding them inadequate. “I know I don’t need to explain it to you.”

“No.” he says finally, inclining his head in your direction. “You don’t.”

“You didn’t deserve the shit I gave you. I know you were protecting me, from jail, from the club, from Clay…” The weight of it hangs in the air between the two of you, because in that time apart you realised Tig doesn’t want to stop you completing your goal, he just wants you to do it safety.

“His time is coming.” Tig promises as he turns to face you. His hands cup your face, his calloused thumbs ghosting over the blush of your cheeks. He smells like motor oil and eucalyptus, a combination that somehow draws you in. “It’s a stay of execution, not a pardon.”

“I know.” You tell him, the edges of your mouth twitching up into a cryptic grin. “And I have some ideas on how to make his life as miserable as possible in the meantime.”

This is what he loves about you, the balance of darkness and the light, the fact that they co-exist in the same space, one complimenting the other. You’re resilient and clever, always thinking outside of the box. Tig knows you’ve found a way around the conundrum that you’ve been facing, something that doesn’t result in you ending up dead or behind bars.

“My beautiful feral girl.” He smiles, lips brushing over the corner of your mouth as he whispers against your skin. “Come inside and tell me all about it.”

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[rosegoldenatlas]

The Last Man Standing

He knew what it was like to be the last one standing. He knew it all too well. He knew the feeling of the world crashing down onto your shoulders because the sky had nobody else to fall onto. He hated the memory of being the last man standing. Of watching everyone else fall and disappear and knowing it was his fault. He was always the one who would brush it off and pretend it was all fine. And he was the last man standing because of it. He was the one who pretended it was all fake and he survived because of it. He survived even as his legacy and his kingdom fell to ashes and smoke, he survived as the oceans drained and the world caved in. He became the last man standing because he was ignorant.

And maybe that's why he always stayed in his ignorant bliss. He stayed in his own bubble of fake happiness and ignorance and distractions. Maybe that's why when he was thrown into these death games he immediately faded back into his old ways of pretending. Of covering his problems with intricate builds and. His old solution of smiling and looking the other way when he felt the sky weigh a little heavier on his shoulders.

Maybe that's why he stopped trying to survive. For fear of being the last man standing once again. For fear of watching all that be made be destroyed and all he loved to die. For fear of being alone all over again.

But if all still happened just like it did before. His pets, his Army of companions died and he looked the other way. His wife fell victim to his own ignorance and terrified craze and she left too. And he would be alone. And all he loved died. So he made stupid mistakes he knew would end up badly. He went crazy before he could watch all he built crumble like before. And he let himself believe it was over. He had died before he watched that final step.

But then he was thrown into the cycle again and again. Each time he would try to break the cycle before the last step. He couldn't be the last man standing. Not again. Not all over again. It couldn't be like Mezalea. When had he begun to call it by name again? No mind it doesn't matter. He was turning his gaze aside again and he knew he shouldn't be ignorant like this. He knew but he couldn't help it.

The cycle repeated but then it went out of order. The ship burnt and he was losing his intricate facade an his distraction before he was losing his companions and that wasnt how it was supposed to go. After his castl- after his ship not his castle the palace was gone he should really move on from this cycle. But he can't. He had to keep some sense of normalcy. Something to keep him sane. So he finished the cycle himself and made the world burn after his facade did. Like it was supposed to. For a moment that time- for just a moment he nearly let the cycle complete. He nearly was the last man standing and he couldn't do that again. So he made an ignorant half thought out plan like always. And he burnt before the cycle could continue.

The fourth time the cycle was running it was so much more familiar than before. He could die and die and he still had time they all had time before the world caved in and he needed to be gone before that happened. So he made his facades and his creations and watched them die. He made companions and watched them go. But he was still here and he needed to leave. So he made his ignorant stupid decision an left.

So now he stood with a new book in hand. He had a clear choice. He could live to watch I all break watch it all burn again. His wife and friend were already gone. He wasn't going to make more companions. He couldn't handle it if he had to watch it all burn again. His home, his facade, his distraction to keep him insanity was made from stone and clay. But he knew better than to think that would stop it from crumbling.

He had allies this time, he couldn't lose them before he left. He would break. So he made his stupid decision and ran at Scott. He always did this. He knew it was stupid. But he couldn't do this again.

Maybe next time I'll be strong enough to be the last man standing. He always thought. Maybe next time I'll be strong enough to stay and stop being ignorant. Maybe next time I'll be strong enough to hold the sky on my shoulders alone again

[persephonescottage]

Honey & Wine | 01.

Pairing: Billy RussoxFem!Reader

Summary: Pony wakes up to a home just not hers.

Warning: References to sexual situations, swearing, obsessive thoughts. Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include kidnapping, stalking, somnophilia, CNC (between two consenting adults), knife play, age gap, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting and other triggers I will include as we go along, please only read if you’re 18+. If any of this warnings trigger you please don’t read.

A/N: Here it is! Thank you to everyone that still wanted to know about my silly little characters and thank you for choosing to read this. This is a sequel to Pony and I’m excited to give this two a proper ending. PS. Billy is back at it!

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The smell of the sea you remember from growing up in California present as soon as you open your eyes to the white room you’re laying in.

Warm sun rays fill it as linen curtains fly around with the breeze that comes in through a pair of french doors.

Your hair lays on cream colored pillows embroidered with blue threads and your body is tangled in sheets that smell like lavender. There’s a bouquet of pink peonies on a vase on the night stand right next to a water filled carafe.

Where the hell are you?

The adrenaline in your body interjects you out of the bed and you run to the doors to look outside. The sea is right there, just passing a small patio with bugambilia bushes and a small table round up with two chairs.

The waves crashing against the colorfully tiled concrete ledge that separates you from the sea. 

You touch your body slightly, moving your arms, lifting your legs. Nothing hurts and you’re not injured, in fact you feel quite rested apart from the strange sweet taste in your mouth.

You’re barefoot but you don’t care, you walk in a trance letting your naked feet touch the warmth of the terracotta clay floors outside as you reach the ledge, the cotton camisole you wear sticking to your body. 

The sun is shinning bright.

You’ve never seen such a shade of blue.

“What are you doing?”

You hear his concerned voice behind you and you suddenly remember. Your trashed apartment, you kneeling on the floor fighting a panic attack as Billy Russo dragged you out through the emergency stairs of the building in John Street.

Everything went dark after that.

“You scared me.” You say, your hand on your chest as you turn around to face him.

His hair is tousled and he is wearing a grey linen shirt and some shorts, a white kitchen towel over his shoulder. His cheeks pink in a sun kissed look and you panic.

How long have you been here if he already has a tan?

“Step away from the ledge Pony.”

“I’m not gonna jump.” You assure him baffled, because its the truth, but also because your instinct says you have to be on his good side.

“Get back inside then.” He looks slightly relieved but you know he’s still has his suspicions “I’m making breakfast.”

“Wait. Where are we?”

“Where you wanted us to be my love.” He smiles.

Therapy?

“We’re in Santorini, come on inside, I’m making omelettes.”

With that he disappears into the house that you can now see from the outside. Irregular white walls that seem brighter with the sun rays, slight touches of the same blue you saw on your bed sheets, the wood frames of the doors that lead inside.

How long have you been asleep?

Is anybody else here with you?

But most importantly. 

Are you free to go?

He went inside and you could run, you tell yourself checking for a door out of the home, but all you can see is the sea surrounding you. If you wanted out you would have to go in.

But, do you want out?

You let your naked feet touch the rustic tiles on the inside of the home, the walls are decorated with colorful art and it’s fully furnished. You hope he had someone decorate it before you arrived and not that you’ve been unconscious long enough for him to do all of this.

“You hungry?” His tone is so casual, so domestic, that it terrifies you. 

The house smells like chives and fresh cream and you can hear the sizzling sound of the skillet where he is cooking over classical music that plays quietly on a vintage radio. You stare at him while he works, without the fancy suits and the sleeked back hair, he looks slightly boyish.

Or maybe you were just so used to the edge of the Blackbird mask.

“Sit sweetheart it’s almost done. You want some wine?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s always five o clock in Santorini babe!” He laughs so carefree and you try your best to smile.

You’re fighting yourself to not look alert but you’re not that great of an actress and you’re sure you look like a scared little mouse when he comes near you and guides you to the dinning table.

You would lie to yourself if you said the feeling of his hand on your lower back didn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“How are you feeling doll? Dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Not really.”

“Perfect.” His smile warm again “Hungry?”

You shrug but you sit down on the table anyway.

You see him get back into the kitchen and come back with a couple plates. There’s fresh fruit, eggs, coffee, toast, everything looks delicious and your hand automatically goes for the coffee mug, taking a much needed sip.

He wouldn’t poison you would he?

“Now that you’re up, I was thinking we could go down to the beach.”

“Now that I’m up?” You question him but all he does is keep eating, as if you had said nothing.

“You need the fresh air and I-“

“Why are here?” You cut him off bluntly. “What happened to me?”

“You were asleep for a while.” He dismisses it.

“Define a while.”

“Couple days.”

Couple?

And he says that so nonchalantly?

“What’s going on here Billy?”

“Jesus, so many questions, eat your breakfast we’ll talk later.”

“No. Let’s talk now.”

You see him put his fork down and you get tense. He doesn’t look as angry as much as he looks frustrated but his dark eyes look up to you and that always triggers feelings in you. 

Sometimes sexy sometimes scary, but always feelings.

“We’re in Greece, just you and me, that’s what’s going on.”

“So like a holiday?” You want to believe.

“Not exactly.”

You can feel him going around your questions, dodging the real explanation and you think if you weren’t on the other side of the world without rhyme or reason you could find it cute.

“Billy?” You talk slower this time warning him “Why are we in Santorini?”

“This is what you were working three jobs for. Isn’t it?” He’s smiling now “You wanted a house in Greece.”

“Yes but not-“

“Not with me?” He laughs, his eyebrows raised in surprise “Well that’s a nice thanks for the place  Pony! By the way it’s under your name. The new one of course.”

You look at him perplexed and he catches on.

“If I found out you killed your ex anyone can. Just wanted you to be safe.”

His words make your face burn. 

He talks about your crime in such a casual manner, a secret that closed you up like a clam for years. You fled California, you shut yourself from the world and focused all your time and energy on running away, and he speaks of it as a stumble on the road.

You don’t think you can eat anything at the moment as your stomach churns with memories of your crime and you see him finish his plate, reading your face and taking yours to the kitchen as well.

There’s this familiar dynamic going on but you’re not sure if it’s safe yet. He acts as if you’ve lived together longer.

Coming back to the dinning room you see him swirl a glass of red wine on his hand and he bends down to peck your cheek on his way to the patio.

“Get yourself ready for the beach honey. The fresh air will help your head.” It’s half a sweet request and half a command and you know you can’t argue with it when you stand and walk behind him to the patio down the hall where you walked in.

As soon as he steps out the breeze playing with his now longer hair he calls out for you after he’s pulled out and sat on one of the chairs around the glass table.

“Hey Pony?”

“Yeah?” You find your voice quiet and shy.

“Why Greece?”

“I love Mamma Mia.” Is all you say before walking to the direction of your bedroom, his loud laugh following you through the doors.

It did sound ridiculous now that you said it out loud.

&&&

You find strange how the bedroom feels so much like you decorated it and you have mixed feelings when you keep finding objects of your old apartment scattered around in the decor.

Your makeup sits in the vanity, along with your perfume bottles, vintage iron brush and handheld mirror, your skincare tucked in a cabinet of the bathroom, your art on the walls and certain pieces of your clothing hang in the closet. 

You recognize those pieces as the ones in the polaroid pictures you once had to show to the police when he left them on your nightstand in Brooklyn, when you didn’t even know he existed in the first place.

So this is why all your place was trashed.

He could’ve done it in a more organized way, you think.

You go through the drawers of your dresser finding everything inside. They’re all full with clothing in your size, accessories exactly to your taste and you eye the shoe rack on the wall that has all kinds of designer on it.

You even reach the lingerie drawers and scoff when you find all dainty lace and bows in there.

After he kidnapped you? 

Not gonna happen sir!

There’s a couple of bathing suits there and you’re relieved they’re not so revealing but you still put a light short dress on top of a one piece red one and a large hat that hangs behind your door.

How did he manage this? To create this environment where you feel so immediately at home, where you find everything naturally and everything is to your exact taste?

The waves keep crashing outside of your window and you wonder what would happen if you refused to go to the beach. 

You can hear Gianna’s voice in your head. You’re in Greece with New York’s hottest bachelor, he got you a full new wardrobe and wants to take you to the beach, and you’re nervous?

She would be so disappointed but you’re just not sure how much freedom you’ll have in this paradise.

Maybe you should start by asking for your passport.

“Ready sweetheart?” He calls for you again and you sigh.

You did kinda want to see the beach, you’d think of escaping later.