#i do not know how to draw bird man. doing my best

[adelle-ein]

slay the princess art dump

the pristine cut is so good guys

[thevoidstaredback]

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

[tubbytarchia]

Doc and Jimmy brainrot part 1 lmao oh no

Basically "What if Doc was in the Life games and Jimmy triggered his parental instincts again". You guys will see my vision. I don't care what it takes. You will see this very specific vision I have god damn it if it's the last thing I do

This is all I have to use as propaganda right now but some ideas and justification below cut!!

Been imagining a lot of Doc/Jimmy interactions both in a traffic and HC context, both of which I'd love to draw for but obvs this for now is 3rd life and I want to draw a little something for each Life series. You'll see!!

The general idea is inspired by a moment from one of the Decked Out streams in which Jimmy calls for Etho and Doc's all "you're triggering my parental instinct... I wanna take you into my hand and take you to a safe place" yep that's it that's the whole inspiration!!

Jimmy deserves love and he does get it to various degrees ofc (Tango, Bad Boys etc) but man... It's so fun to me to imagine Doc in traffic, I think he claimed that he didn't want to be part of the life games because he was afraid of being too competitive (or so I heard), but god it's so fun to imagine big scary mad scientist goat man in that scenario and him probably going at it on his own a lot of the time, but this god forsaken mf Jimmy knows exactly how to unintentionally trigger his parental instincts. I want Doc to subtly take Jimmy under his wing especially as Jimmy keeps dying first. So maybe Jimmy is a bit incompetent and loud as far as he knows, but he sees that he's trying his best and the dad in him can't help but intervene just a tiny bit (and I do mean just a tiny bit) as the games go on. Yes I'm just gonna shove Doc into the Life Games just because I wish this dynamic could have happened and I beg you to put up with it!!

For the above drawing specifically since, sigh, I'm slow and that's all I have to offer rn... it's of course 3rd life, starting off. I imagine Jimmy's wings sprouting during that, because the whole "canary curse" began with the Life Games etc. And this post isn't about FH but just for context as I imagine it, Scott who doesn't like unpredictability convinces him to clip his wings (thanks Bree) because Jimmy's not a proper avian (unlike Grian who has a more "airborne" body, bird feet etc rather than just... wings) and he'd never be able to take flight anyway, those wings would only encumber him. (And then Jimmy keeps clipping them himself until DL Ranchers but cough this post isn't about that). I imagine the avians (for my specific roster, just Grian) have their wings magically clipped anyway just enough to prevent flight and make the games fair. Doc ofc isn't avian himself but he knows that Grian greatly frowns upon the act of willingly clipping wings so when he sees that Jimmy's quickly growing wings have been clipped as well, he can't help but ask, because why would that be necessary while his wings are so small anyway? And Jimmy's response triggers a wee bit of fatherly concern in him but thats it for 3rd life woo

For the rest I just wanna draw more tiny moments of interaction until I get to Secret Life, I guess!! The brainrot is really fucking strong guys

[beenbaanbuun]

hi bunny! <33 i wanted to ask if you could do a little fic of how the ateez boys (specifically jjong) would be like during aftercare ❤️ after a rougher session— i���m in need of comforty cute stuff rn lmao 😭 no pressure ofc! luv u bun bun 🫶

aftercare w/ateez

hongjoong

i feel like hongjoong is very prepared for aftercare, especially if he knows in advance that it’s going to be a rougher session

like he already has a glass of water and a snack bar on the nightstand ready to go

coos and praises you as he breaks the bar into tiny pierces and slides them between your lips with his fingers

will absolutely force you to pee and shower once he thinks you’ve got your energy up enough to walk to the bathroom

stays with you the whole time you pee, and slides into the shower beside you to wash your hair

unlike some of the others i don’t believe that the shower will to anything else because hongjoong has a modicum of self control and can see you naked without going feral…

seonghwa

seonghwa’s first instinct is to go and grab a washcloth from the bathroom so he can wipe down the mess between your legs

of course, while he’s in the bathroom, he kills two birds with one stone and begins to draw a bath for you

wipes down your sticky skin with the warm cloth, all while whispering praises

‘i know you’re sensitive but you’re being such a good girl by letting me clean you! just a little more and it’ll be over, my darling.’

once you’re somewhat clean he guides you to the bathroom and helps you into the bath before going to chance the sheets

comes back the second they’re changed and in the washer so he can sit on the side of the tub and watch you with a pretty smile

yunho

cuddly boy!!

will literally just hold you to his chest and stroke his hand up and down your spine while the two of you return your breathing to normal

isn’t so fussy about the ‘clean’ aspect of it all, but will definitely make you go pee because we do not want any UTI’s in this house!

and once you’re finished peeing, he just ticks you back into his nice strong arms and lets you fall to sleep in his grasp

he trusts you enough to know that you’ll tell him if you need anything else; water, a snack, all that jazz

he also knows you enough to know that is so incredibly rare that you’ll want anything other than him and his warm cuddles

because let’s be real, lying on top of yunho with your head tucked into his neck and his long arms holding you in place is actually the best feeling in the world

yeosang

you know my thoughts on yeosang’s sex style so i also have to assume that he takes his job of aftercare very seriously

it’s half a guilt thing because baby boy went so hard that now he has to take care of you; he needs to know that you’re okay and he didn’t do too much

he starts by wiping you down and you’re guaranteed to be oversensitive, but he just shushes you and tells you how well you’re doing

ideally he’d like you to shower, but you’re too boneless right now and he doesn’t want to leave you for long enough to run a bath

and when he’s all done cleaning you up, he’ll hold a straw to your mouth, watching you as gulp down the water he brought you

i can see him needing his own validation as well so he asks you plenty of questions

did he go to far? did you like it when he did that one thing? were you having as much fun as he was? he really is desperate to know that you were having a good time

san

san is so fucking clingy that from the moment he goes soft, he will not let you out if his sight

he won’t send you to the bathroom yourself with promises of cuddles when you get back; why would he when he can follow you in there to hold your hand while you pee?

and while you’re in the shower you better let this man wash your hair, your body, your face, anything he can, unless you want him to pout

sits you on the toilet seat while he brushes your teeth; it’s cute but you can’t help but feel shy as he holds your jaw and looks down at you

and then when he’s sure you’re squeaky clean and happy, he bundles you up in his arms and drags you back to bed with him

from which there will be no escape, by the way; if you even dream about getting out of bed, san will be pouting and complaining

mingi

i like to think that he puts his mind, body and soul into sex, so he’s probably just as tired as you when it’s over

ideally, he’d just like to stay in bed with you, but he knows you have to replenish yourself, so he sets you little tasks

“can you go get a wash cloth from the bathroom so i can wipe you down?”, “go piss, girl. i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

and you best believe that after every single task you complete, he’s praising you like you’ve just cured world hunger or something

lips pressed against yours, letting you know just how good you are for him and how proud he is of you for doing what he asks

it’s safe to say youre leave your submissive headspace any time soon, not when mingi has you in his grasp, whispering sweet praises in your ear

wooyoung

wooyoung likes to do everything for you and if he even catches you lifting a finger he will become the most annoying person to ever walk this earth

like he’ll be getting you a glass of water and he’ll come back to the bedroom to see you with a tissue between your legs and all he can thing is how dare you?

literally storms over and takes it away from you before continuing the job himself, muttering under his breath as he cleans you up

“you weren’t so independent when you were begging for my dick, hm?” he scowls, “you need me to fuck you properly, so what makes you think you don’t need to help you with this too?”

like honestly, he’s kind of mean with it but with his gentle touch and the tiny kisses that he’s pressing to your thighs, you know he isn’t actually mad

just being his regular wooyoung-ish self…

jongho

oh you think he’s a teddy bear? wrong; during aftercare you’re his teddy bear and there’s nothing you can do about it!

because he’s way too strong for you to escape from the grasp he has on you, no matter how much wriggling you do

it’s fine though, because jongho always keeps. a bottle of water by his bed and a few snacks in his drawer and a pack of baby wipes too

you literally don’t even have to move from his arms for him to take care of you; everything you need is right there!

of course when you tell him you need to use the bathroom he’s pouting, but then you tell him he can come with you and he’s happy again

he doesn’t consider the fact that he can’t squeeze you to death when you’re actually on the loo, so when he realises that he’s pouting again

literally clings to you the moment you stand up, wasting no time in dragging you back to bed for more cuddles

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

[taylormarieee]

-Birds of a feather ~A Dean Winchester oneshot~

Summary: you and dean used to be a thing, attached at the hip like birds of a feather, he thinks you guys should stick together and honestly, so do you...

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: dean winchester x fem!hunter!reader

Warnings: hurt to comfort, slight angst, fluff, illusions to sex but none takes place, sam being a supporter/wingman, kisses, touches, mutual pining, reader playing hard to get(just a lil bit), teasing, that's it! lmk if I missed stuff<33

A/N: Hey... how yall doing... I know i've been absent and i'm sorry, so here's a little fic to bring back the life in my blog!

You and dean were the "IT" couple. You guys did everything together, you guys were two peas in a pod. He loved and adored you and you respected and loved him.

You guys were made for each other and it showed. Sam used to get disgusted after a while when you two were so smitten about each other, but then came the arguments.

The arguments about the tiniest things. the arguments that led to angry sex. The moaning, and sweat on each others bodies. The feeling of him inside you was always a good way to release the stress, but then after that there would be a good day and then the cycle started again.

Until there was no more sex, just arguments that led to dean leaving at all hours of the night and you finding comfort in his younger brother.

Talking to sam felt like the best thing in the world every time you fought with dean. You hated fighting with him. He was your love, your future husband, the man of your dreams.

He meant the world to you, and you couldn't bear losing him to some shapeshifter or some demon or even just speeding to fast in his car.

That's why it hurt you when sam got the call that his brother was seriously injured in the hospital due to a car crash. He loved his car so it shocked you when you found out.

JANUARY 6TH 2004, LAWRENCE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, 11:01PM...

You both rushed to the hospital and never left his side. When he finally woke up, you hated to break it to him but you couldn't do it anymore. The arguments, the cold shoulders, him driving off and staying out drinking his life away in all hours of the night.

You kissed him goodbye and left. You lived with Bobby for a little while just until you got on your feet but then you found out a demon was after you for what your father did, something you'll never know.

He's been dead for a little while. Your father. You've been trying to follow in his tracks for a while now.

But anyway, you have been living with Bobby for a while now and every time Bobby said that Dean and Sam were coming over, you always made sure you were never home.

But one day, Bobby didn't tell you and you heard the rev of that impala and immediately froze. You were in your room finishing up your drawing on this Wendigo you killed last week for Bobby with the help of Rufus.

"Hey bobby, what's up." Sam spoke, the vibration of his voice echoing around the halls.

You grabbed your sketchbook and tried to sneak downstairs and run out the back to where your car was parked but unfortunately, they were in the kitchen where the backdoor was.

You peeked in and of course Dean had to be the first one to notice you.

"C'mon out and stop hiding ya ijit!" bobby calls out drawing now Sams attention. Both of the Winchester brother's had wide eyes as they watched you come out from the corner.

You were wearing a black long sleeved crop-top with baggy jeans that had stars on the pant legs.

"I'm not an ijit bobby, how many times are you gonna call me that!?" you ask bobby while rolling your eyes trying not to acknowledge the brothers, specifically Dean whose eyes cannot leave your body and face.

'When did you get so many piercings.' he thought to himself.

"Well when you stop leaving the house for hours everytime I tell you there coming over, you haven't seen em in months almost a year now, you can't keep hiding." Bobby tells you.

you sigh and look at the both of them and that's when you lock eyes with dean again.

"Hey dean. Hey sam."

"Hey." they say in unison. you give them a tightlipped awkward smile and then put your journal down.

"Wanna see some of the drawings of my most recent kills so far? It's a lot of vampires, demons, wendigo's you know, the whole shebang." you aks with a smile.

They both smile at you like there proud and say sure. you nod and open your journal.

You had some notes and details next to your drawings. They all looked at it in fascination and awe.

"These are amazing! Did you hunt them all on your own?" Sam asks as he flips through the pages.

"N-no, well kinda. I had help every now and then." you say looking at bobby with a smile.

He grew to be your father and you really appreciated him for who he was and what he's done for you.

"These are really great but uh, can I talk to you outside for a minute? Please?" Dean asks looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that you knew you couldn't say no to.

"Yeah Dean, sure... cmon." you say as you walk outside with him near all of bobby's abandoned junky cars.

"What's up dean?" you asks folding your arms across your chest.

"how have you been?" he asks keeping it casual and short.

"I've been doing fine, how about you?" he smiles and steps a bit closer to you. you fight the urge to step back.

"I've been thinking about you. For months. Wonderin' where you've been, how you've been holdin' up but I see you've been doin' just fine." he says with a slight tilt of his head.

"Yea I have de-"

"I ain't finished just yet doll. Why have you been avoiding us? Avoiding me?" he asks sternly.

you roll your eyes, 'here we go'.

The conversation you've been dreading to have. You thought he'd just leave it alone but what the hell were you thinking?

This is Dean, THE Dean Winchester we are talking about here. He's relentless until he gets his way.

"Look Dean, I really don't want to talk about this right now ok? I don't wanna argue with you." you tell him in the most nicest way possible.

"Ok..." he takes a long pause. "Why not?" he asks, making you sigh a very annoyed and long sigh.

"Because Dean, the way we could turn a civil conversation into an argument was honestly stupid and insane, so please for the sake of saving me a headache and meltdown and you getting into another severe car crash, drop it." you explain to him.

His eyes soften almost. Letting the relentless side of him slowly fade away bringing out your dean, the soft mushy bear dean.

"You- you still remember that night?" he asks softly.

"dean I remember it like it was yesterday. All I have are nightmares of you in the hospital, your heart stopped beating for 5 minutes! How could I not think about how the man I loved died right in front of me over a damn argument! I always blame myself!" you shout.

"You shouldn't ha-" he starts.

"I shouldn't what? Have that guilt?! Oh, but I do Dean. Every day I play scenarios in my head. M-Maybe i-if I was more understanding then you wouldn't have left, maybe if I wasn't so mad over the smallest thing, maybe if I just talked it out like a normal human being, then maybe, MAYBE! the love of my life would still be with me right now."

His eyes widen. He's stunned at your confession but you don't even give him time to talk as you walk towards your car, A Cadillac DTS.

You hop in and drive off.

~NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, BOBBY'S GARAGE, 9:30PM~

Your car finally pulls up in the driveway and you notice that dean's impala is still here. 'So there staying the night huh?' you thought.

you turn off your car and get out. you open the door with the key you have and walk inside the house.

Bobby's asleep on the couch in front of the new tv you bought him two weeks ago.

You smile and grab the nearest blanket you can find and wrap it around him to shield him from the cold outside.

You lay a soft kiss to his head and whisper him a goodnight. you turn around and notice a figure standing in the kitchen, you jump and pull out your pocket knife but you realize it's just Sam.

"Hey, sam." you greet quietly.

H eturns around clearly pretending to not know about your prescence and smiles.

"Oh hey! I promised Bobby I'd still be awake in case you ever came back." he says as you walk over to stand next to him.

"aw thank's Sammy." you say with a geniune smile to which he reciprocates.

"hey, can I uhm, tell you something that I think you should hear?" he asks shifting his weight.

"yea go ahead." you respond crossing your arms in front of you, a habit you had.

"Dean hasn't been focused or okay ever since you left. He's been kinda broken. Screwing any girl that looked at him the right way or taking his anger out on me and that's nothing I can't handle but, I just hate seeing him like that." Sam expresses.

"Hate seeing him like what?" you ask concerned.

"Like a part of him is missing. Whenever I look at dean, he's staring into nothing, as if he's dead. There are nights where he mutters your name and hugs the motel pillows like they are you. Only to wake up facing the reality that your not there, your not here with him anymore." he explains.

"I just can't keep seeing my brother drink and fuck his life away until he slowly fades into nothing. I watched him die for 5 minutes, I'm not going to watch him suffer anymore. Please, bring the life back into my brother, that is all I ask." Sam asks and then walks away.

"goodnight." he say lastly before dissappearing into the other room.

you stand there, contemplating on what you just heard, clearly not seeing the effect you left not only on dean but on sam as well. It tugs at your heart and suddenly you feel dizzy, almost like you can't breathe.

You step outside for a second and breathe in the cool air. You sit down and cry, you just cry and cry.

~MEANWHILE, INSIDE WITH SAM AND DEAN, 3 HOURS PRIOR~

"Sam come on please. You gotta tell her. I can't keep doing this anymore, you said it yourself Sammy." dean pleads with sam.

Dean had asked Sam to talk to you, to just tell her how he's been feeling and tell her that he needs you, that he can't keep living without you.

After you broke up with him so randomly in the hospital, he just couldn't keep going.

He was constantly overstimulated and constantly angry. The anger in him never died down until he saw you today for the first time in months.

His heart warmed up at the thought of seeing you in that outfit and being so bubbly, it made him miss you all the more.

Like a burning flame that was slowly dying and losing its light and being drained of its passion by the coldness of your heart.

It left him stunned that you could do something to him after such a tramatic experience.

All he wanted was for you to fuel him back to life, bring the happiness back into his life.

All those other chicks he fucked and left in different towns just weren't doing it for him anymore.

Not like you.

You had him hooked. Enfatued by your mere presence. He needed to be careful with you though.

Placing the sofest touch to the weakest petal. Caring for you like a rare feather.

He never wanted you to leave his side, because right now? He was going crazy in the maze in his empty mind.

He may be speaking in poems or riddle form but for you? He couldn't contain or shield his seeping heart that was torn.

And that his why his brother had to confess that to you, what dean didn't predict was for it to go that way.

~BACK TO THE PRESENT- NOVEMBER 18TH 2005, 10:45PM~

Your just sitting outside now, all forms of crying done. You didn't know how much you hurt dean that night.

You were just doing what was best for you, but I guess that was you being selfish. You only added salt to an already salty wound.

You made him bleed more than he did that night. You made his heart collapse.

He was your everything, and you guess seeing him die that night, you felt the need to distance yourself as much as possible to make sure you didn't lose him again.

And yet, all you did was hurt him even more and make your life and his ten times worse.

Bobby was right, you couldn't keep hiding from him. He was your savior and your becon.

He was always there at your beck and call. You both flew together like two parrots in love.

You stuck by each other like seahorses. You made him whole and he made you complete.

You were each other's puzzle pieces. He was the Clyde to your Bonnie.

You were going to do everything and anything it takes to get him back to you.

You get up, ready to open the door but someones hand is already turning the knob before you and it swings open.

Dean...

"Oh sorry, I didn't know anyone was out here," he announces tiredly.

Your frozen, you forgot how good Dean always looked when he woke up in the middle of the night.

Tousled hair, soft pink lips, and glazed-over eyes shining in the moonlight.

"n-no it's ok, I was actually going to come look for you. I wanted to talk to you. Is that ok?"

"Yea yea, that's fine with me." he says a slight smile on his face.

You both sit down staring at the stars in silence before Dean speaks up.

“so, what’s wrong?” He speaks out into the misty air of the night.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never left you that night. You died and then came back and you were fucking suffering and I just hurt you even more. I know you can probably never forgive me for that and I just wanted to let you know that I am incredibly sorry. I love you Dean, your the love of my life, your my safe place. I wouldn’t even be alive half the time if it wasn’t for you, I am grateful for you, your my future husband and I know I ruined my chance of ever getting to kiss you again but just know it’s ok and I’m sorry.” You speak out in one breath!

Dean blinks as it takes him a second to register what you said because you spoke so fast but he eventually chuckled and pulls you closer to him.

“Oh doll, I love you so much and I forgive you, why wouldn’t I? You’re the only thing that kept me going. My motivation to find my dad, my motivation to move on and protect Sam. I don't know where I would be without you and my brother. I love you for that and I’m grateful to have you here with me right now. No more focusing on the past, time for the future. Cmon, let’s go inside.” He says with a smile on his face

you nod and smile grabbing deans hand so he can pull you up. He walks towards the door to open it and you stop him by grabbing his hand.

“Dean wait!” you exclaim. He turns around with confusion and you grab his face and kiss him. You kiss him roughly and you kiss him with so much passion.

He grabs your waist and kisses you back with the same amount of passion.

you both break the kiss and rest your heads on each other.

“don’t know what that was for but I really liked it.” Dean speaks with a smirk on his face to which you giggle at.

“wanted to seal the deal of our love.” You say with a smile.

“your such a tease you know that? I was pining for you all day.” He says with a smile

“well what can I say? I’m a girl that likes to play hard to get. The moment I laid eyes on you today I wanted to pounce on you.”

“Well baby, you got all night.” He says with a smirk and a wink.

Birds of a feather, we always knew you two would stick together...

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling + anyone else who wants to join!

[storiesfromafan]

Little Bird - Part One

A/N: I am finally diving into writing a story for Feyd. Forgive me if he is ooc, but I am trying haha. This idea came when rewatching Dune Part Two almost a week ago. And i haven't been able to stop thinking about it, only to work on Benny one-shots.

Also, things may/have been changed to suit the Story, and will possibly keep changing to fit it as a whole.

This will probably be a slow written/updated story, as I want to make sure it's as good as it can be.

Do let me know what you think 😊

Part One

Rabban strode heavily and with confidence into the war room, his uncle – Baron Vladimir Harkonnen – grotesquely sitting at the head of the table. The Baron looked to his nephew with a scathing look, making Rabban's step faulted for a second, yet he continued on as if nothing happened.

“Well?” Boomed the Baron's impatient voice.

Coming to stand before his uncle, Rabban looked to the man with a proud and confident demeanour. “Yes Uncle. We have successfully obtained Arrakis, and wiped out the Atreides".

The gluttonous man smiled wickedly at his nephew, his plans coming along nicely. “Good. You have done well Rabban".

In the moment Rabban felt light, the weight of delivering what was expected of him lifted. Something that seemed rare, hardly happening for him. Today he had finally showed his worth, and his Uncle had shown him he was favoured. For the Baron had given him the place he conquered. Commanding he go to Arrakis, take the spice and make the Harkonnen name mean something of greater greatness.

A dark chuckle came from the shadows off to the side of both men. Both cast their gaze to the figure that slowly stepped out, their skin pale and head bald, like the other men. But the main feature separating the three was the new comers stormy blue eyes, which shone with mischief and mayhem. His full lips housing a knowing smirk. He was the Baron’s other nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“Brother, do tell our Uncle about the souvenir you brought back from your invasion of Arrakis" came Feyd's raspy, yet amused voice.

Rabban's jaw clenched at his brothers words, have beating him to the punch. For he had hoped to inform the Baron of his prize himself. Part of him knew that the Baron would be angry for taking what he did. Yet he could not help himself. The perfect opportunity arose and Rabban couldn’t resist taking something for himself. Even if he didn’t truly want it. It was to show his strength and power.

���What is he on about?” Demanded the Baron, eyes drawing together in agitation.

The older nephew sputtered, trying to find the words while being put on the spot. Feyd held his arms behind his back as he leisurely strolled to stand beside his Uncle. His intense gaze on Rabban. With both sets of eyes on him, Rabban was uneasy, yet did his best to not show it.

“Well!” The Baron yelled, now becoming impatient with the man before him.

Once more Rabban could not speak, only angering the Baron more. Feyd smiling joyously at his brothers lack of response, how both he and the Baron seem to effect him.

“Uncle, since Rabban is tongue tied, I will inform you" came Feyd's raspy voice. “It would seem my brother has taken the prize of Atreides niece, the one who’s mother ran away and disgraced her family".

The Baron listened to Feyd's words, staying silent. Which he took as a sign to go on.

“I will say one thing in my brothers defence" Feyd mused, walking towards Rabban. “This prize is known to be good friends of the Princess. So, having her in our hands is favourable. And if we were to join her to our house, we may gain more favour with the Princess. And ultimately her father, the Emperor”. Feyd stood by Rabban and turned to look to the Baron.

Silence fell for a few minutes. Feyd watching the gluttonous man before him. Rabban not looking to his Uncle, and uneasy by the complimentary words of his brother. And the Baron, the wheels in his head turning. But then he smirked, a deep chuckle coming from the man both nephews despised.

“We already have an in with the Emperor. For he supplied us with his own men" the Baron looked to each of his nephews, who stared at the man before them intently. “Having the princesses favour because I allowed Atreides niece to join our house, is not necessary. In fact, it would low us!”

Locked in a windowless, bland room – walls a sterile grey, basic grey and black furniture. It was some sort of holding cell, a fancier one for those who had come from wealthy and influential families. Yet the Harkonnen’s seized, contemplating if they would execute them or not. That was were you were currently waiting, and for over twenty-four hours.

You had been dragged here, after being taken from Arrakis during the take over. You recall being asleep in your room, before hearing noises from the halls. When you left your room you found the chaos. Soldiers moving about, killing all insight. Unlucky for you Rabban Harkonnen had been coming down your hall. His eyes landed on you, recognition flashing in his eyes. And that was it. Before you could run he had his large hand on your arm, dragging you away while death and destruction passed you.

Even now you were still dressed in your night dress, which had dirt and some blood on it. Your hair was a tangled mess from those that would take hold of it and drag you about, Rabban included. Your lip was also split from being backhanded when you finally spoke up. Thankfully it had clotted over, but it was still quiet sore. You were on alert, but frightened. And who wouldn’t be? Yet you thrived, navigating it while feeling everything you did.

You had to be strong from a young age. Due to your mothers choice to pick love over duty, resulting in you, you were the one to suffer for her indiscretion. All the great families looked down their nose at you from the age of seven, when your mother had gotten her foot in the door, your father’s family rising and gaining a small bit of power. It wasn’t much but it allowed you all to be seen in social circles. But many whispered, speaking ill of you all.

Great families told their children to not speak to you, leaving you out in the beginning. When you were nine did the Princess Irulan for-go what people and children said. She was kind to you, befriending you. A true friend. And for once you felt as if you didn’t have to fight to be seen. Over time your friendship influenced those around the Princess, and in turn those children were kind to you under the Princesses gaze. But as soon as she turned her back, or left, they turned their backs to you.

Your ears faintly picked up shuffling in the hallway outside your room. Followed by voices, which sounded to be in a heated exchange. Wearily you stood from the chair you’d been sitting in, refusing to sleep till you knew what was to become of you. Taking a couple steps toward the rooms door, you strained to hear what was transpiring behind your closed door.

“How could you!” A gruff, angry voice said. “She was to be mine!”

Then there was a deep chuckle. “An why would you want her? Don’t you have enough whores to keep yourself entertained?”

“I was the one to take Arrakis and wiped out the Atreides! She is my prize!” A loud bang rang out down the hall, a fist had hit a wall.

“She was taken from you because you hid her from our Uncle”.

“Which I was going to inform him of! Until you told him!”

Their voices lowered, and their words faster. You didn’t hear anything after that. With a final loud aggravated groan, followed by heavy feet stomping away from your room. Then silence. Yet you could not relax just yet, for the other person was still out there. You knew it.

When the door suddenly open did you jump. But the doorway was empty, staring out the door frame  you questioned what was going on. Then he entered the space of the door. You took a step back. Slowly, as if stalking pray, he entered the room. The door closing shut behind him. Like all that you had seen he was pale and bald, but also tall and lean. As he entered into the light of the room his face coming into full view. First you noticed his full lips, that were set in a straight line. His strong jaw and sharp cheek bones. Last it was his blue eyes, their bright blue contrast to the dark look he was giving you.

With every step closer to you, did you step back. Until you were stopped by the chair you had been sitting in. Recovering from being trapped while the man came to stand before you. You stood tall, holding your head up high. Your gaze fierce as it meets his bright blue eyes. What surprised you was the amusement shining in his eyes now. You were amusing to him.

You looked at him, really looked at him. For a Harkonnen, this man had some unearthly beauty. Yet something told you you’ve met before, though you couldn’t believe it. But those eyes, bright blue, different yet familiar. Either in this life, or a past one.

“W-who are you?” You finally asked, wanting the silence to end.

He remained silent, just watching you a little longer, before he took a step back, giving you breathing room. His hands moving to rest behind his back, as a fear enduring smile crossed his full lips, which did not reach his eyes.

“I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen” came his raspy, deep voice.

A chill ran down your spine, both from who he was and his voice. You had heard many stories of the man before you, stories that chill to the bone and leave no room for humanity in him. And you stood before him. But why?

“W-why are you here?” You questioned, knowing you were pushing it. And Feyd was allowing it.

“I am here to inspect what is now mine" he coolly replied, as if it was common knowledge.

You looked at him with confusion. How did you end up his, if his brother was the one to take you from Arrakis? “What about your brother?”

Feyd chuckled softly. “My brother did not inform the Baron of taking you. And as punishment you were given to me, little bird".

You remained quiet, letting his words sink in. You had been worried about being Rabban's prize. But now Feyd owning you, that was terrifying. He would either spend his time torturing you, your flesh, before killing you. Or he would make you his whore, your body servicing him in every carnal way. Neither were options you looked forward too. Though maybe the death route would be the best of the two, for it would end the soonest.

“Come now" Feyd's words broke you from your thoughts. “Surely you wish to ask more questions little bird?”

He’d already given you a nickname, one you found annoying. “S-stop with that nickname".

“Why?” He asked in amusement. “I think it suits you. Taken from the wild, only to be locked up" – he reach out to take a lock of hair in his fingers, which you pulled away from – “untamed but with time can be...”

Your gaze darkened, as you managed to move from the chair and putting more distance between the two of you. His words had truth to them, but you would not be tamed. Not by him, and not by his methods.

“You are strong" Feyd said suddenly, his face dropping so it was serious. “I remember you at the palace when we were younger. How the children from the great families looked down at you, spat insults at you. It made you strong...”

Was that a compliment? “So what?” You spat.

He chuckled once more. “I was making an observation little bird. As not once had you cried or cowered when you were taken. Nor when in this room, or in my presence. You stand tall, and do your best to remain calm. I will give you that".

You glared at him. Not for what he said, but the nickname and how sure of himself he was. You were here because of his brother, not by choice. You were here, in your nightdress and looking a fright, because of them. They didn’t even have the decency to let you freshen up.

Feyd took no time to move before you again, his hand taking a hold of your chin. Lifting your head so he could look down into your eyes. Your glare deepened at his actions, which only pleased him more. Feyd then moved his thumb to your bottom lip, the rough pad running along it. The pressure he used collided with the split in your lip, causing it to open and you to hiss. Music to Feyd's ears. Running his thumb over the blood, he moved it over your lip, back and forth till it was completely covered.

Pulling his hand back, Feyd moved the blood covered thumb to his mouth. His tongue licking the pad, collecting your blood. The metallic taste delightful. “You will be moved to a better room. I will send some women to help clean you up, before you get some needed rest. By tomorrow I should have worked it out...”

“W-worked what out?” You asked curiously. A sinking feeling in your stomach.

A twisted smile crossed Feyd's face, chilling you to the bone. “If I will kill you or make you my whore".

With those words he turned from you, and walked to the door. Once it opened, he moved from the room and once more the doors closed, leaving you alone. Leaving you wonder what just happened. You moved to the chair and sat, your mind running over all that transpired with Fayd. Then finally you understood, tomorrow would either be the day you die or the day you loose yourself.

You don’t know how long you sat there, but when the doors opened and two guards walked into the room, you knew it was time to go. Reluctantly you lifted yourself from the chair, and crossed the room to them. One guard exited first, with you following before the second guard brought up the rear. It felt like you were being marched like a criminal, but it was far from it. For as you arrived to your new room, the halls to get there were nicer but still bland. The room was larger, a couch and big bed. The walls were still grey but with this room there was a window. You could see the night of Giedi Prime.

Two bodies walking from an adjoining room caught your attention, and upon turning you were greeted to the sight of two Harkonnen women, slaves, waiting with their hands held before them and eyes down. They were pale and bald, yet thin and were quite beautiful.

“My lady" they greeted softly, scared to be loud.

“If you follow us, we have a bath being drawn for you" one of them advised.

You didn’t say a word, but cautiously crossed the room to them. They stepped aside and allowed you to enter first. The bathroom had the same grey walls and grey, and black furniture, but with a large sunken tub in the middle of the room. Another woman was filling the tub, pouring in oils and scents. It didn’t take long for it to be full, and she left her spot. She walked over to you, bowed and then left. The other two women came in, and moved to undress you. You didn’t fight them when they removed your nightdress and undergarments.

You walked into the tub, the warm water feeling good as you slowly submerged your body in it. Your muscles loved the warm water, it helping with the tension you were holding. The floral scent pleasing to your nose. One of the woman came up and asked to help with your hair, which you accepted. So there you were, relaxing in a tub of water while the slave washed your hair and detangled it. It felt so good you almost forgot where you were, and what had happened to Arrakis and your family.

“Leave me" you commanded when your hair had been seen to.

Both women bowed before scurrying out of the room, door closing behind them. There you floated, eyes cast to the dark, sterile ceiling. In this moment of relaxation did you recall your family. Your Uncle, Duke Leto Atreides. His concubine Jessica. Your Cousin Paul. And all those innocent people serving the family that had fallen at the Harkonnen hands.

For the first time in years did tears rise in your eyes, and made their escape down your cheeks. The situation you were in was not easy. Many would have crumbled as soon as seeing the soldiers, or when they were on the ship to this toxic planet. You crumbled in a tub full of pleasant smelling water, realisation of possible outcomes of fate flashing before your eyes. Tomorrow would come too quick, you just knew it.

TBC...

Next Part: Part Two

[crows-in-the-house]

matching Bill's freak brainrot

guys guys just listen, ok, like, Bill giving somebody dead stuff?? Best thing ever.

Idk about you but I really like to draw dead animals, like birds, fish or bugs. If he would get me a bag of dead rats and arrenge them in my name I would swoon over this man in no time. Like, they are still fresh?? And he possesed all of them just so they spell my name? In one night? It took time and effort guys, u just don't get it. Now scooch, I need to draw (maybe he would pose for me too?)

Ooooh and deer teeth?? Like girl pls, we can make matching bracelets or necklaces out of this!! No shop sells that! Isn't that an unique gift? No? Well then what about your mortal enemys head? Who would ever be so creative and romantic to give you something like that? Well, obviously, Bill.

And what if he makes me a bowl of worms instead of cereal? Well, at least he tried! How is he supposed to know humans don't eat those, he isn't one! And all that bug eating advertisments on earth don't make it easier!

Talking abt not being a human - I just need him to describe the colors my brain can't see! What do you mean you can see ultraviolet!! You just have to explain how it looks in nature and where can i find it. Hyperbeige? Ok now i hate my human body too. Fuck it, lets make a deal, he gets to posses me and I get to float unnoticed and stalk ppl around. Will I regret it? Maybe. But look how cutey my boy is laughing!

I bet he would be full of ideas of what to draw. Obviously, such a muse would inspire to make great art on every topic and in every medium! Like drawing him in all angles, paintng skies with stars and planets out of our world, making poems of how triangular piramids and mountains are, writting, well, weird equations of something looking like a portal, but hey, it looks pretty! Oh and sculpting organs, photographing the unknown! A great help to those with artblock!

I just wanna bite him, i cant

[nova-amor]

༘☁︎⋆ ◜ 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◞

it wasn't a secret you found your best friend's dad attractive, you truly couldn't help it. simon riley was a retired british soldier; his thick arms decorated with intricate black and white tattoos and a faint stubble growing along his sharp jaw and cheeks, it would be a crime to say he wasn’t at least a little attractive.

you often found yourself staring at him— lustful eyes lingering over the sight of his sweat-glistening chest whenever he came back home from a late afternoon run, mind wandering to how soft his hair would feel in between your fingers, thighs squeezing together whenever you caught a whiff of his cologne. even with graduating college and beginning your career, you felt like a teenager all over again whenever you around simon for too long— your hormones going into a frenzy and lust clouding every single one of your thoughts.

it was shameless— absolutely disrespectful to both your friend and simon, but you just couldn't help yourself. simon was at least twenty years your senior and you wanted him. truly, desperately wanted him. and, one night, he finally made it obvious he wanted you too.

“has a boy ever made ya cum before?” simon inquired, his cheek resting upon one of your inner thighs, his fingers toying with your slit. he had been teasing you for what felt like forever, coaxing you into his room after he had found you raiding his kitchen for the millionth time. you were supposed to be having a sleepover with your best friend who was staying with simon while she was in town.

“it’d be like old times,” she had promised. old times definitely didn’t include you sleeping with her father after she had fallen asleep.

“i asked ya a question,” simon pulled his finger away, a whine leaving your lips at the lack of contact. he smirked, his eyes beaming as he watched you writhe and shake before him. “best t' answer it, little bird, if ya want t' get what ya want.”

“n-no, never,” you quipped, stammering over your words. your cunt throbbed as he pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, the circuits of your mind completely fried. “a-always faked it, they didn't even know where the clit was, had t' show them.”

simon faked a pout. “poor baby, ya never been with a real man then.” he teased, his fingers returning to the one spot you desperately needed him. calloused digits swirled around your sensitive nub— drawing loose circles and letters. a series of low moans escaped from you as he stimulated you, your eyes fluttering shut and jaw going slack as you fully succumbed to simon's touches.

“need ya t' be a good girl and be quiet f'me, okay, little bird? can you do that for me?” simon asked, dipping his fingers into your entrance. you nodded your head, cunt clenching around him as he stroked your squishy walls. “mmm... that's my good girl— g'na show ya how a real man should treat ya, little bird. doesn’t that sound nice?”

[slytherinshua]

LIFELONG (COFFEE) ADDICT

genre. fluff. warnings. jokes about addiction. and brief marriage mention. sion is so whipped. not proofread. pairing. sion x reader. wc. 572. request. requested by anon for #21: "when I’m with you everything else goes away.” a/n. i swear in every wish behind this man is drinking another cup 😟 he's just like me 😭 the coffee addiction goes hard.

“I’m going to marry you one day.” Sion sighed dreamily as he wrapped his arms around your waist, whispering the affectionate remark close to your ear. You giggled at his sentiment, finding his morning clinginess to be one of his infinite attractive traits. Your boyfriend always looked forward to the days off work when he could stay with you, partly because he could never get enough of your company, and partly because the coffee you made was almost as addictive as your lips. 

He felt that way now as well, the first morning he was back in your cosy apartment, holding you closer than ever as the smell of freshly ground coffee beans reached his nose. Although he still had much more to do that morning before he was ready for the day— he still had to change out of his pyjamas and tackle the birds nest that was the current state of his hair— he allowed himself to rest completely against you, warm cheek rested on your shoulder as his arms squeezed your waist.

“You say that often these days. Do you really miss me that much?” You asked him back as you poured the kettle of boiling water over the grounds in slow circular motions. You had been dating Sion since before he debuted, and the busy schedules he had now certainly put more distance between you two than he was used to.

“All the time. But, when I’m with you, everything else goes away.” He told you softly. Sion was more than excellent at his job, and you could tell how much he loved what he did. He got to perform on big stages and work with his best friends. There were definitely more pros than cons to his job, and he would never even think about doing something else. But one of the biggest cons was the stress and distance. 

You were his way to destress and relax his mind so that when he got back to work, he could lead his members in the best way possible. You could always feel how much weight he was carrying, and all the burdens that he had to face head on. But, thankfully, Sion was easy to please, and didn’t expect you to carry any of his responsibilities. Simply being with you was enough to give his body a reset. That, and tasting your coffee, of course.

“You’ve seriously never thought of opening a coffee shop?” Sion asked, a hint of shock in his voice.

“Never. I don’t think I’d like serving customers that much. You’re the only one who’s tolerable.” You joked, mirroring Sion’s grin. He finished his cup of coffee in the time it took you to only start sipping yours. Naturally, you stood up to serve him a second cup.

“You’re such an addict, Sion.” You giggled at how excited he still got as you placed down the refilled mug. He looked simply adorable, still in his pyjamas with messy hair and puffy face. 

“I know already. Coffee, sleep, and you. The 3 biggest addictions of my life.” He said it proudly, smirking slightly at your shy smile at his addition.

“Someone needs to put you in rehab.” You brushed back some of his hair, revealing his forehead as a clear target for your kiss. 

“Not for you.” He stated clearly, drawing the line for which addictions he could go without. “I hope I’m a lifelong addict.” 

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities

[frudoo]

Random König Headcanons

Hey y'all! This is my first post on here so I hope it's alright <3

These are all pretty SFW (for now >:)), so I don't think there's really any content warnings??? Idk let me know if I'm wrong.

Likes going to Build-a-Bear. Will definitely make your bear and his bear kiss.

This man can COOK. Oh, you want takeout? Nah. He's already pulling out the ingredients for your favorite dish. Buys the two of you matching aprons.

Talks to animals like they're babies. I also feel like the man just... attracts wild animals like birds and squirrels. Undercover Disney princess??? Perhaps.

Speaking of babies... the man is so good with kids. Laughs all giddily when toddlers climb him like a tree. Wants you to have his babies so bad

Actually has a decent singing voice. Get him drunk enough and he's doing karaoke like a pro. Oh, and if you agree to sing a duet with him??? He's GONE. Goes all out.

Likes to hold pinkies when walking around in public. He likes holding hands, too, but when he's feeling a little more anxious he'll intertwine your pinkies. PDA isn't his strong suit but he HAS to be touching you at all times, and it's like a pinky promise that he'll always be there with you :,)

Draws patterns/words on your back with his fingertips when y'all are laying in bed. Mainly a bunch of pet names, "I love you"s, and hearts. And cartoon penises

This big burly BEAST of a man loves being the little spoon, no matter how impractical it is. Honestly loves any cuddling position though.

Pouts when you're not giving him enough attention. His lips get SO puffy when he's jealous. Talking to one of his friends? He's grumbling German insults to them under his breath. Eventually he'll just scoot closer to you on the couch and rest his legs on top of your lap. BAM, now he's got your attention, even if it's just you telling him that he's crushing you. Big ol' lap dog.

Likes to do your hair!! He'll take pictures of what he's done and show them to you like a hairdresser :,) It could be the worst hairstyle you've ever seen but you're wearing it PROUDLY.

On the rare occasion that you two go out to a restaurant, he REFUSES to tell the waiter if his meal is wrong. Oh, it's shrimp and he's allergic to shellfish? He's telling the waiter he loves it and will just stare at the untouched plate sadly. Also will not let you trade plates with him because what if the waiter sees??? Tries to sink under the table when you finally cave and tell the waiter that the order is wrong. Glares at you the entire time he eats his new correct meal but is secretly so thankful. <3

Is absolute trash at video games. One of the best combat soldiers on the planet, but put a controller in his hands??? He's lucky if he gets three shots in.

Bought an engagement ring two weeks after you two started dating. I mean, he literally fell in love with you immediately upon seeing you for the first time, so are you really surprised??

Is a really good gift wrapper. His hands always start cramping around the holidays because he does most of the wrapping. His love language is 100% physical touch/gift giving btw.

Adding onto the singing thing... I just think he would be a really good musician, specifically a drummer.

NOSE NUZZLES. Like the Brendan Fraser type of kiss where you just rub noses after. He just gives off those romantic vibes <3

Unconventional kisses. Eyelids, the tip of your ear, everywhere you have moles, your calves, ankles... the man is obsessed with you, and he's kissing you wherever he can reach.

ADORES taking baths with you. Candles, rose petals, bath bombs: he does it all. Washes your hair for you. Lots of forehead and temple kisses.

I am unwell. I need him so bad.

Please feel free to reblog if you'd like!! I hope y'all enjoyed my little (very self-indulgent) rambles. :)))

[alexthebordercollie]

i love Ford in the one bigger than myself chapter where he's coming off of what i assume is a visit from Bill. damp, cold, randomly scooping his friend into his lap, and being fed spam like a baby bird. really, who is doing it like him?

UGHHGHG! I love how you put that T^T Just the best description of this scene possible.

And yeah, this scene shows Ford having a manic episode after one of Bill's dream visits. I don't usually post all my chapters to tumblr, just the ones I feel work really well in isolation. That said I know have to post this scene for people. If you guys would like me to post more stuff from Bigger than Myself or Hand of God let me know. People can request scenes they'd like to see my draw.

Link to Bigger than Myself Bigger than Myself - Chapter 5 - alexBDcollie - Gravity Falls [Archive of Our Own]

The scene in question is below the cut.

“Morning Fidds!”

“Sweet Jesus!” Fiddleford nearly jumped out of his skin when he woke to Ford hovering an inch from his face. He leaped back and rolled sideways. Tangling up in his sleeping bag. 

Ford was squat down on the ground beside him and pulled back when he saw Fiddleford jump. “Oh, sorry, didn’t me to spook you.” He apologized. Though the big grin on his face didn’t suggest regret. 

Fiddleford wrestled with his sleeping bag for a minute to get free as he sat up. “I, gosh nabbit- It’s fine.” He huffed. Freeing himself from the plasticy fabric. “Just don’t go hollerin’ so close to a man’s face. Nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

“I hope didn’t,” Ford replied sincerely.

Fiddleford felt around in the grass for his glasses and looked back at Ford and he put them on. “Didn’t what?” He asked. Furrowing his brow as Ford came back into focus.

“Give you a heart attack,” Ford replied. 

Fiddleford looked him up and down slowly. “You didn’t… it’s a figure o’ speech Stanford.” He reminded him slowly. 

“Right, of course. I know that. Obviously.” Stanford rambled. He was strangely damp. His hair clung to the side of his face and his clothes stuck to him like he’d tossed them on while still wet. They weren’t damp enough to suggest he’d gotten wet while wearing them. 

“Ya fall in a creek or somethin’?” Fiddleford asked. He looked around the campsite and found Ford had already gotten the fire relit for them. He reached for the bag where he kept their food and cooking tools and startted riffling through it for spam and powdered eggs. 

“Hm?” Ford’s gaze seemed unfocused. His eyes darting about at random. He looked back at Fiddleford like he didn’t understand the question. It took a few seconds before it seemed to click. “Oh, this-” he ran a hand through his damp hair. “Took a bath in the creek,” he clarified.

Fiddleford watched him close as he brought out a frying pan and some cooking spray. “Right…” He only pulled his eyes away long enough to watch what he was doing. Grease the pan, pull out a canteen, and mix up the powdered eggs. “Ya didn’t need to do that bud. It’s a campin’ trip. I ain’t exactly expectin’ ya to smell like daisies.” He chuckled. Trying to relieve a bit of the awkward energy that sparked in the air around Ford. Fiddleford couldn’t name that energy but he could feel it prickling his skin. 

“Just felt like it,” Ford replied. His voice, oddly distant for a moment. 

Fiddleford looked back at him again as he placed the frying pan over the fire. “Yeah? This about that nightmare last night?” He asked. Figuring that must be the cause of… whatever this was. 

Ford had woken up with a shout that morning. It had to have been something fierce to startle him like that. Fiddleford almost thought he dreamed it. If he’d realized he hadn’t he wouldn’t have gone back to sleep so easily. Stanford Pines was not a man who scared easily.

Ford looked back at Fiddleford confused. “Nightmare? What nightmare?” He asked. He was shaking. Fiddleford was noticing it now as he watched him. Peeling open the can of spam without taking his eyes off Ford’s trembling hands. They hung limp in front of him. His elbows rested on his knees. 

“Ya woke up early this morning. Ya told me it was a nightmare.” Fiddleford reminded him.

Ford looked at Fiddleford with wide doe eyes like he hadn’t the foggiest clue what he was talking about. “A nightmare…” he muttered. Gears turned in his head as he struggled to remember what Fiddleford was talking about. His teeth seemed to chatter slightly as he spoke. “N-no, no, good dreams…” he countered. He looked away again for a moment like he was recalling something. “Good, good dreams. Scary, but good. Scary good, you know? You don’t know-” he was muttering, barely getting a coherent thought out.

Fiddleford nodded slowly. “I geuss…” he conceded. He cut off a few slices of spam with his whittling knife and slapped them in the pan with their eggs. Taking the skillet by the handle and giving it a jiggle before flipping its contents. “Ya should get yer coat on. Ya look chilly.” He advised. 

“Coat, ya, that sounds like a g-good i-idea. Smart, you're smart,” Ford stammered. 

Fiddleford watched the food for a minute but maintained a keen sense of Ford’s presence as he felt the man walk past to find his coat strewn out in the grass. Fiddleford relaxed enough to focus on his cooking, only to be blindsided again. Ford thumped suddenly down on the ground behind Fiddleford and, before his presence could be properly registered, reached out and snatched Fiddleford up in his coat.

Fiddleford let out a startled yelp as he was enveloped suddenly in a cocoon of dense brown fabric and shockingly strong arms. “Hey! Watch it! Hot pan over here!” He blurted out. Squirming to poke his head out of the top of Ford’s coat to make sure he hadn’t spilled the food. Thankfully he’d let go in time for the skillet to rattle against the metal frame that held it over the fire before settling back into place.

“S-sorry.” Ford stammered. Making no effort to let Fiddleford go. He sat down behind him and pulled Fiddleford into his lap. Arms squeezing him tight like pythons as he burrowed his nose into the crook of Fiddleford’s shoulder. 

Fiddleford found his hips wedged between Ford’s thighs. Their bodies pressed tight together. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks but tried his best to ignore it. He wasn’t sure what made Stanford so snuggly all of a sudden but he was clearly feeling out of sorts. Something was wrong and Fiddleford reasoned it was best to be gentle with him. He rubbed Ford’s forearm through his sleeve. “Ya comfy?” He teased.

Ford nodded into Fiddleford’s shoulder. “You’re warm,” he muttered. Barely audible. 

“Well I hope so,” Fiddleford chuckled. Trying to take the awkward exchange in stride. “It’d be concernin’ if I wasn’t.” Snuggled up like this though, he could tell Ford was cold. The man was usually a human furnace. He felt strangely cool. Perhaps it was just from his creek bath earlier, but it was an uncanny feeling nonetheless. A worrying sensation that made Fiddleford want to lean into his affection if only to warm him up.

Fiddleford looked back at the pan and watched it closely. Allowing himself to settle comfortably into the folds of Ford’s coat. Hoping Stanford’s head would clear with some heat and a bit of food in him. “You wanna tell me about yer dream?” he asked.

“Hm?” Ford hummed drowsily.

“Yer scary good nightmare?” Fiddleford teased, turning his head back to meet Ford’s eyes.

Ford looked unsure for a moment. His pupils were huge. Had he been smoking something? No, not Stanford. He was too straight-laced for that. Then again, it had been a long time since last they spoke. Anything was possible and Fiddleford didn’t have any clues that might explain what was happening. Ford was always prone to bursts of wide-eyed energy when some new discovery captured his imagination. This wasn’t that. This was something alien. Unfocused, that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He wasn’t excited about something, just excitable. Too energized and too tired to think at the same time. Like he was ten cups into a coffee binge with nothing to work on. Ford was never so aimless. He always had something on his mind.

“No…” Ford replied slowly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The energy seemed dampened. Like he was coming to some kind of realization at the moment. A realization that harshed whatever buzz he had going for him.

Ford dropped his face back into Fiddleford’s shoulder and shivered in his coat. Fiddleford set about trying to work some heat back into his friend’s body. Rubbing his hands swiftly back and forth over Ford’s forearms. “That’s alright. Ya don’t have ta talk about it if ya don’t want to.” He assured him.

Ford took a deep breath and Fiddleford could feel his chest swell against his back. He could feel Ford’s heart thumping against him. Fiddleford felt it slow in real-time. Ford was doing it intentionally. How he ever learned to do that was still a marvel to Fiddleford. 

“Fidds?” Ford spoke up. His voice uncharacteristically meek and small.

Fiddleford leaned forward to pull the pan from the fire. “Yeah bud?” He replied evenly as he slid their food off onto paper plates. 

“What’s it like, when you’re with Emma?” Ford asked.

Fiddleford paused for a second as he considered the question. “In what sense?” He asked.

“Like… how does it feel ?” Ford asked. “To be with someone like that.” 

Fiddleford could feel himself turning red. He didn’t mean like- like that? Like that. Did he? “Excuse me, pardon?!”

“You know, like, being married, being in love, what’s it like?” Ford huffed. Clearly, he thought the question was more sensible than it sounded. 

Fiddleford laughed and offered Ford a plate. “Oh come on now. Like you never fancied someone.” 

Ford took it but still kept his arms wrapped around Fiddleford. Holding his own plate in front of the both of them and taking up the space Fiddleford needed to eat. “No not really.” He answered bluntly. Not even looking at the food. Just staring into space. “I thought I did once but…” 

Fiddleford grew quiet as he processed what Ford was saying. He felt a bit guilty for his teasing. Ford was always an odd man so this wasn’t a shock per se. “Well, I…” He thought about Emma-may. Tried to formulate an honest answer. He loved Emma. He knew he did. Growing up they were thick and thieves. A couple of weird kids against the world. She was a bit like his Ford at the time. A strong, brave, personality. Someone who could fight off the monsters and inspired Fiddleford as much as she worried him half to death. 

“I dunno, she’s my best friend I guess,” Fiddleford finally answered softly. 

“I thought I was your best friend,” Ford whined playfully. Nudging Fiddleford with his shoulder.

Fiddleford scrambled not to drop his plate and laughed back. Pleased to hear Ford beginning to sound a bit more like himself. “Ya are my best friend ya dummy! Yer just different.”

“Different how?” Ford asked.

Fiddleford gapped his mouth open a few times as he struggled for words. “It’s just different! Ya know, it just is!” He snapped. “If ya don’t understand it, then I don’t know how to explain it!” 

Ford blinked at Fiddleford a bit dumbfounded before looking away. “Right… It’s a silly question.” He looked hurt and Fiddleford’s heart sank. 

Fiddleford knew exactly what the difference was. He knew all too well that the way he loved Emma was something else. The way he loved Ford… Sitting here in his lap. Wrapped up in his coat. Wondering with an equal mix of concern and startling awe what was going through that man’s head. It was very different. Fiddleford promised his life to Emma-May before he ever met Stanford. They had a plan. They were going to run away together. He thought that’s what love was… Somewhere wires had gotten crossed and Fiddleford didn’t know how to uncross them. Love wasn’t supposed to be this way. Ford couldn’t have asked anyone worse. 

Fiddleford looked at Ford’s plate in front of him and reached up a hand for his plastic fork. He cut off a chunk of fried spam and held it over his shoulder. Nudging Ford’s lips. “Eat ya knucklehead. We got a big day ahead of us. Ya promised me an alien space ship an’ I won’t ever forgive ya if ya can’t deliver.” He teased.

Ford looked back at him again and chuckled. He parted his lips and allowed Fiddleford to deposit the food in his mouth. Resting his jaw on Fiddleford’s shoulder while he chewed. 

They sat like that for a while. Eating their breakfast and laughing. Ford excitedly gushed about the valley he called home and the many things he had discovered over the years. The strange wild-eyed buzz, whatever it was, slowly melted into Ford’s usual enthusiasm. No longer disoriented and aimless but focused intensely on sharing his love of the paranormal. His love for Gravity Falls. Whatever it was Ford called love, Fiddleford liked to think it felt something like this. He hoped someday Stanford’s love could be treasured by someone. He deserved that much at least.  

[currentfandomkick]

So. Reincarnated!Danny and Tim has taken over my brain. And the trans headcannons for both Tim and Danny, and Kitty and Johnny resulted in what’s below. Debating calling this the RookAU as i like that for Tim’s future solo identity, and color palette wise it reminds of phantom.

Toddler-adjacent Tim with ghosts, Constantine and decent parents below in fic form

Tim was used to seeing people others ignored. The nice lady in the pearl necklace and the pretty green pendant that matches her ring. She’s always with this nice biker who checked Tim over whenever he fell and said he was “a doctor before i kicked the bucket again,” while doing a reflex and booboo check.

The pair had a habit of staying around his neighbors and hovering around a Tim a lot.

No one else said high to them. The biker said its because his shadow was bad luck, but Tim saw it wrap around Batman and Robin before and go through bad guys who stopped fighting as good in a bank robbery before. The biker’s shadow is really a big helper and chooses what type of luck you get.

He’s not sure if the biker worked that out—the one with the 13 on his bike and wore the green skull necklace—there are a lot of bikers that drive through people but no one gets hurt-hurt.

Tim drew a lot of the ignored people in crayon. Some were bleeding but Mr. 13 told him they’re stuck like that as ‘Thats how shades are’ and ruffled Tim’s hair.

Sometimes the pair visited instead of only seeing him when his parents let him go to boundary by their properties. It’s nice, but they’re very weird about names, and Tim.

The woman told him she has a few names, and so does her husband. She said Tim could give them names too! Having a lot made you safer and stronger.

The biker calls her “kitty” a lot so she has to be a Catherine, but sometimes she’s “Martha” too. Tim didn’t like the idea of using the biker’s names for her.

She calls the guy Johnny a lot, Thomas and Tom. Tim doesnt know which is their middle names or what crimes they did to use those all the time, but they’re really nice to him! He’s pretty sure he likes being Mr. 13 too!

Sometimes they mention they knew him “before you went round two, little man!” but they don’t call him the name he went by, as “you and your uh, cousin I think you two decided on? Shared a name and your old one was real close to it. So not the best thing to call you that little man.”

Tim chose his name for himself, and Mommy and Daddy got it changed everywhere. No one needs to know, just like no one will know since Mommy and Daddy are very sneaky and are teaching him to be sneaky!

He was still debating if Kitty Martha and Johnny Tom would like to be Miss Pearl and Mr. 13…

The two murmured he needed to be careful about which people he noticed, especially if they were blue or green, or if other people didn’t see them. ‘Shades’ can be tricky and Tim is little enough they can do a lot of damage, according to Pearl.

But the parade of people at home made it hard. There were other people in and out of the various houses he grew up in that his parents and others ignored. Mom called them his ‘imaginary friends’ when he saw them on the street. But they pretend not to see servants and the help too.

Pearl. he liked that for her; Martha Kitty Pearl. She followed him when he left the house and shooed the others away. Sometimes Pearl blew a kiss and a bunch of shades were gone!

Johnny Tom 13’s shadow buddy cursed people sometimes. Mostly it made their phone work worse. Shadow likes cheezits.

Dad thought it was a little funny, feeding the ‘Shadow’ and giving it to the wrong spots. Shadow didn’t care, but Pearl and Johnny didn’t like it.

Dad stopped laughing about it when Tim asked why there was a bird with a person’s face flapping at some of the jars his parents brought home from the latest dig.

Mom knelt down slowly, looking at her work friends and Dad. “Sweetie, can you draw what you saw?”

Bird person noticed he was pointing at them and made a lot of loud angry sounds.

Tim covered his ears and screamed back.

The bird person froze. Tim huffed before grabbing the crayon.

“Sorry, they were too loud. They stopped trying to grab the jar though. Do you still want a picture?”

Dad knelt down beside Mom and nodded slowly.

Mom looked at the jar. “Timmy, should Mommy move it back?”

Tim told her no, the bird person wanted it there and kept moving otherwise.

After showing off his drawing, Mom and Dad changed languages they way they always did when it was a grownup conversation.

The bird person flew over and looked at his drawing, and him.

“Pearl and 13 said I’m not supposed to say hi. But you’re not a shade—are you a meta?”

Tim. Had no clue what the bird person was saying, flapping scuffling about. They pecked his drawing. A lot. They were not, very much not, happy about being there.

Tim frowned. Mom and Dad were talking to their friends in hushed tones, and moving out of the room.

Tim huffed and grabbed a map of the world and put it out for them. The birdperson squaked at him, gesturing to the place they are on it.

Tim pointed to the continent they’re on. “Mom’s friend calls it the ‘new world,’ but it’s been here for longer than I’ve been alive. But shades can be a lot older than me… and you’re not a shade.”

Tim hummed, wishing Pearl or 13 was there. They said you have to speak and feel what you mean sometimes to talk to other ignored people.

“I’m not sure what you are if you’re not a meta. But I think you want to go, go home?” Tim tried to focus on what made home, home. Mom and Dad reading to him together, holidays and singing silly songs. It was warm and an invite to play and rest.

The birdperson flew to him and perched itself on his shoulder.

“You’re very light,” Tim commented. “Do you want any water?” He focused on cups and drinking this time.

The bird person huffed, gently hitting him with their wing.

“Got it. Not thirsty.”

He went back to his book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and let the angry bird person hop down his shoulder, but stay touching Tim, as they grabbed the crayon and made marks on some paper he left by the map.

His parents came to check in on him and saw the bird person’s drawing on the paper, grabbed his drawing of the bird person, and whisper-yelled enough he knew they were not happy, but not to the point he knew what it was exactly.

“Do you think I did something bad?” Tim asked quietly, with this swirling abyss twisting in his gut.

The bird person ruffled their feathers and said a word that felt like a ‘no.’

A few hours later a man who said he could call him “Connie” came in. His parents kept calling him Constantine. There was a nice floating man with him that everyone but Connie ignored.

Tim waited for them to be distracted and asked the floating man one of the safe questions 13 and Pearl gave him for safe ghosts.

“What do you like to be called?”

The floating man paused, floated lower and stared at him.

“It’s okay, you’re a guest and it’s okay to talk to guests. I chose Tim!” He smiled, hoping his parents didn’t have to bring up his old name.

“Deadman,” the floating man offered his hand.

Tim shook it like Dad does.

“and try not to spread around your name to others ghosts. We can uh, overwhelm the ones who can see us.”

Tim frowned, ignoring his parents’ eyes and Connie’s look as their conversation quieted. They’d just say he was talking to an imaginary friend again.

“Is that what I should call the green and blue people? I know the one with the goop coming out are usually shades.”

“Some of us are obvious with the colors, some are more like me and very pale. Do I look solid to you?”

“If you aren’t a shade you’re solid. It’s why birdie is hard to workout. They’re more see through but feel very solid.”

“Right.” Deadman’s face tightened by the eyes and his mouth. “Most people see through ghosts like air. Sometimes we can be see-through like hair. Its. Not common to see us as solid, even at your age.”

“Oh. Is that why a lot of you glow if you get close? Not a lot, but like, like… sunset hair! but not golden just, other colors, but all of you—everywhere! Shades don’t glow unless they’re changing color.”

“I can’t say for sure, most mediums see me half here, half not.”

That felt familiar. Bird person flew over, absently grooming Tim’s hair with their feathers.

“That sounds annoying. Do you want to watch Blue’s Clues with me while Mom and Dad do the serious stuff? Blue takes a while to get what you’re saying but Mom said she’s hard of hearing and won’t get hearing aides—that’s why Dad said it’s important to learn sign language.”

“Did he?” Deadman asked.

“M’hm!”

Connie explained some adults only thing to his parents while Deadman and Tim tried to make Steve to understand they already knew where Blue was, and know just how bad he is at instructions.

When the episode was over, Tim, Deadman and Birdperson went to knock on the door where his parents were. Or Tim did.

Deadman floated through and told Connie they were ready.

Connie sat him down, and started asking questions Pearl and 13 made him promise not to answer as that’s what exorcists ask before making people go away.

He loves 13 and Pearl, and knows they watch over Mr. Wayne who acts happy when he isn’t. His happy face and his “happy” faces are very different. The “happy” face is more like Steve’s face movements, while his happy face is always soft and barely there if you don’t pay attention.

Tim always pays attention.

“Look kid, I know you can see souls who are stuck between the living realm and the dead realms. Deadman is dead.”

Tim scowled as he knows what dead is—it’s when bodies stop working. Souls and spirits are vastly different. “He’s not Gone or Ended, so he’s not dead-dead-dead. And that’s not uncommon to know or see at my age so bleh!”

“Tim!” His parents tried to chide him.

Connie waved them off and motioned for Tim to continue.

“It’s true! And if I did, then you’d make my friends Ended or Gone and they choose to stay.”

Connie paused at that, making the same face mom does when working out something weird going on in Drake Industries. “Does this guy choose to stay?” He pointed to the bird person.

“No,” Tim answered with a small frown. He did spend a lot of time trying to communicate with them afterall, and the weird ‘feels like’ thing going on. “He wants to go home, but he can’t. I think the jars are like,” Tim trailed off, looking around to find his hotwheels tucked away in a corner. “Like cars to get him home or something.”

Connie hummed. “Not wrong in his case. But, seeing souls can be dangerous kid.”

“Only if they realize you can see ‘em.” Tim argued like Mom does with the investors. “And you invited Deadman in after being made a guest, so that’s allowed.”

“And a friend of yours teach you this?” Connie guessed with the ‘fake knowing’ look his dad used on a bad shareholder before they started listening to Mom.

…Tim can admit he loves being with Pearl and 13 and Shadow. But he’s not sure if friends is the right word. But if he uses the right feeling word around his parents, they’ll get sad and mad and he… he wants them to be happy.

“Nope. Not a friend, but not-not a friend either.”

“Cryptic, little—takes after Janet, huh?”

Tim smiled back at him, even as Mom and Dad share a look where Mom pretends she has no involvement and Dad is trying to get her to admit she is involved.

“I chose me to take after thank you very much.”

Connie snorted. “When you’re older, we can talk about how to use it. Until then, I’m going to give your parents some wards to keep the nasties from you.”

Tim didn’t like it. Or the sudden craving for burgers and shakes.

“Aren’t you going to help Bird Person get home?”

Constantine sighed. “Yeah, I’ll drop ‘im off. Just don’t borrow problems from the dead, okay?”

Tim stayed quiet, trying to work out what that meant.

Connie knelt down. “Its not your responsibility. If you want to try anything, contact me first and we can get you set up as an apprentice for another paranormal detective first and foremost and work it out from there, but that will be a long, long ways out.”

Tim nodded slowly, looking at his parents. Dad had a pinched face. Mom had her Gala Jerk Repellant smile one.

Tim’s heart sank.

“If they look ghostly, ignore them unless everyone can see them. Then you call me.”

Dad didn’t like letting go of their find. Mom hated something about it all.

Maybe that Tim can see secrets and get ghost gossip that she can’t.

When Pearl and 13 moved to the Drake Estate Tim took their hands and introduced them to his parents carefully.

His parents jumped back when Pearl and 13 each put a hand on his shoulders.

“Mom, Dad, this is Pearl and Thirteen.”

Pearl smiled at his parents, her hair more inky and short than her more-usual green shag. “Pleasure to see you two again. Hope

You don’t mind us watching over Timmy here given what tends to try and stick to him.”

“As long as our son is safe and free,” Mom supplied while shaking Pearl’s hand herself.

Tim wondered if this would be another board meeting fight or not.

“Jack,”13 acknowledged.

“Nice to see you again Tommy,” Dad offered his own hand. “Didn’t know Timmy here could uh, bring you back?”

“Likewise, and its 13 nowadays. Tim’s a special case,” 13 explained while ruffling Tim’s hair. “We’re gonna need you two to keep a secret from Old Connie for us about this.”

“Why don’t we work out what we need to do while Tim wears the ‘silence headphones’ we got him and practices his penmanship and drawing?”

“I’ll help him pick out a book!” Jack called, scooping Tim into his arms.

“Pig Pancake!” Tim perked up, squirming out of his grasp and running to find his favorite picture book.

His parents put his headphones on and everything was quiet. Just him and the book. And him trying to draw the pages and wrote like the letters on the page.

Kitty waved a hand infront of him to get his attention.

13 pointed at his ears.

Tim took off his headphones.

“Tim,” Mom began. “We came to an agreement. When your father and I are not here or are busy, Martha—yes I know it’s Pearl too I was getting there dear—will stay with you. Shadow will stay with their son if they’re both with you, and Tom—Thirteen—will go between the two of you.”

Tim kicked his feet. “So no Nanny?”

“Yes you still have a nanny when we’re not around sweetheart,” Dad answered. “But you also have Pearl to play with and keep you out of bad trouble.”

“Like the rogues when they break into schools?” Tim asked.

“Exactly sweetie,” Mom smiled. “Pearl is very good at making problems go bye-bye, and can get you somewhere safe. But we have to keep it a secret from Connie when he visits to make sure the wards on the house and the repulsions we’ll be putting on you to keep nasties away are working, alright?”

A smile bloomed on Tim’s face as he nodded along.

“Can Pearl and me play mario kart now?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” 13 bemoaned.

“Yep! C’mon Pearl, you can be Bowser this time—he’s the coolest!”

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

PLEASASSWEEPLEASE TOU DONT HUNRERFSTABDS

GLENN GLENN GLENN ITS GLENN VOTE GLENN VOTE FOR THE BOY

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

GLENN GLENNNNNN

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I haven't dedicated the last 2 months of my life drawing Glenn close for him to lose

Vote for Glenn Close or I will make you read the parody I did of the vaporeon copypasta

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

VOTE GLENN

Glenn fuckers fought tooth and nail to get us here from like 38% dawg we DESERVE THIS. GLENN IS THE SEXIEST MAN!!! HE WAS THE FIRST FICTIONAL CHARACTER I FOUND HOT AND HE’S GONNA CONTINUE TO SWEEP!!! Your hot goat woman sounds sexy don’t get me wrong but I’m forever fighting for the man that changed my brain chemistry. Proud of our fandom tbh. I don’t think y’all understand the sheer amount of effort I have put in to get my boy where he is today but this placement feels well earned. TO GLENN SWEEP!!

THE FUCK YOU MEAN GLENN CLOSE ISNT WINNING IM BOUT TO THROW HANDS FR

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

Yalll better vote glenn i swear to god

Vote Glenn or else the bird gets it🐦🛸

HOW IS MY DUDE NOT WINNING????

GLEN GELN NELG GLENNANN HE DESERVS ITTTT

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Taako (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

A celebrity chef from another plane

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge. 

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.” 

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance. 

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins. 

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees. 

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves. 

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt. 

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor. 

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

To My Friend: Or, a Letter From a Villain

My dearest,

I am sorry. For everything that has passed between us. I am sorry for the fights we have had, for the scabs on our knees and the pranks we have played. I am sorry we did not do more of it. 

I remember we used to sit on that tree. We carved our names on it. It was not romantic. We didn't know what romance was. It didn't matter, even if it was romance. We were just having fun. 

We had a challenge to climb it all the way up to the top. It was the highest tree in the forest, or so your sister told you. I'm sorry that I never did reach that top branch, and even more sorry that I never helped you up there.

I pushed you off once. Your knee was fractured, and you yelled so loudly the weird girl from the next village over came to investigate. She helped me carry you all the way home. Mother and Father yelled at me so afterwards. I remember having to do your chores for weeks afterwards. I am sorry for that. Your tears made my heart ache so badly. I cannot believe you still let me draw on the cast. Did you like the flowers I put on them? I do not know if you could tell, but they were supposed to be lilies. Your favourite.

How are you now? Did you manage to start the shop you always wanted to man? I know you told your mother about it, and she slapped you and said to dream bigger. She told you that you would be great one day. I hope you are not. Greatness really is not what it was cracked up to be.

I am sorry I have not spoken with you. I did not think you would want me to, what with what has happened since. I do not think you would be happy to see me. I am everything I ever wanted to be, and I hate it.

We dreamed as children, did we not? I dreamt of a crown of jewels and a throne of bone, a foolish thing to want for a boy such as I. You dreamt of a quiet butchery at the heart of the village, leaning on the counter and bragging about being the one to provide the Emperor with freshmeats. What kind of whelp dreams of being a butcher, anyways? I am sorry I did not mock you for it.

How silly we were there, little kids playing a wild game of pretend. How different we were. How foolish.

I do not eat freshmeats from a butcher. No, I feast of flesh right from the bone. It tastes fresher, sharper, like the memory of you carving into my heart. Do you like carvings, still? You used to make the most adorable birds out of called branches. I would scour the forest after a storm and bring the best pieces just for you.

I would give you all the branches in the world to have you by my side. You could be my lady, my advisor, my butcher. Whatever position you want, my friend, you could have it. Just come back. Please. I am sorry for what I have become, for the monster I see in the mirror.

That tree we used to sit on is fallen now. I had it cut down after I took the throne. I am sorry for that, too. Nonetheless, it sits in my trophy room now. We could sit on it together again. I could have servants push the both of us up onto its topmost branches.

What do you say, my friend? Will you come back to me? Will you accept my apology, and renew what cruel fate tore apart? Will you be my friend again?

Remember: I know where you live. And I can bring you back to me, whether you like it or not.

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@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

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