#it's just found in meat they are carnivorous

[starsnores]

fucking i just remembered that post about like. how taurine is an essential amino for cats to eat bc their bodies can't make it on their own and how it's found in a lot of energy drinks and there was some joke about feeding your cat boy monster energy drinks to make sure they get the proper nutrients in the post somewhere. anyway that's trolls to me.

[here-there-were-dragons]

i have to wonder what super hardcore militant vegans think should be done about obligate carnivore animals, because in all my painfully-rapidly-approaching-30-years i've literally never actually seen anyone give a clear consistent much less halfway feasible answer on that

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Just a silly question but how will cotton react when he saw or knew that y/n REALLY love to eat rabbits and have a weird obsession for eating them? Like. Is he gonna be terrified or he gonna be like "stay away from my child but I still love U tho"

-(I wanna be the 🦖 anon please and yes the ask earlier where I quack was me too )

Cotton x carnivore!darling

Tw: minor body horror, cannibalism, reader can be another hybrid or human, cotton being cotton, blood mentioned. Not proofread 🌺

🔪he knew there was something wrong with you. From the moment you took him in and nursed him to health. To the way your hands glided over his abdomen and raked down his thighs. Your eyes staring hungrily at his throat. He saw the red flags, but he ignored them, because you made him feel something he thought he hated. Fear. Adrenaline.

🔪when you reluctantly let him go, he begged to stay. He knew he wasn't much of a meal but won't you give him a chance? He'll gladly let you tear open his chest and claw out his intestines. How would you eat him? Raw and fresh? Or cooked and seasoned? The thought excited him beyond belief!

🔪when you had your first litter of children, he quite literally had to pry them from your hold. He loved you but he couldn't risk you eating your newborns. So for the first few months he raised them himself from a distance. The only way he'd let you near them would be if he was close by and had a sedative in hand.

🔪 while quickly becoming a prisoner in your own home, Your shorter than average husband was constantly breathing down your neck, his gaze never leaving your form. And with the help of your offspring, life got even more suffocating. You loved your children, you really did. But you could never really get rid of that little itch in your mouth begging to sink into some meat. When was the last time you had it? You were starving.. you didn't want to eat vegetables anymore..

🔪one night you went missing. How the hell did you break out of the chains he found. He felt his heart stop and scrambled out of your bed. Ears moving around to try and catch any noise. Quickly rushing to the children's rooms, he relaxed in seeing them all safe and sound. Until he heard something from outside. Grabbing the dart gun from his bedside, he stepped out slowly. Following the smell of blood and cracking of what sounded like bones. Going Deeper into the forest...

🔪and there you were. Crouched over the bodies of what seemed like a deer hybrid family. You didn't seem to notice him, happily chewing and tearing at the flesh underneath you. Blood spewing out onto the dirt floor, he swore he could see a little twitch from the mother's hand. Their bones bent in unnatural places and the gashes on their bodies lethal. He slowly approached, standing over you

"there you are.. where have you gone..? you had me so worried honey..."

🔪 you simply stared up at him, licking your bloody lips and dropping the arm you were chewing on. He could feel himself get hard at the sight. Weirdo. Ignoring the corpses next to him, he set down his gun and kissed you softly. Wiping the rest of the blood off you with his shirt. He learns quickly that once you've eaten meat, you don't need to eat it for a good while. Expect him to hunt down his fellow hybrids for you in the near future. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he kept neglecting your needs?

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 1

Rhiana is your dear friend who lives just out of town in a cozy cottage in the forest. You met while shopping. You two talk about the different spices she suggests to flavor meat and veggies. It leads you to a fast but close friendship with Rhiana, close enough that it becomes a usual event to visit her monthly while you’re in the area. Whether it’s shopping, karaoke, or just coffee date hangouts there is one thing that comes up a lot.

“Rhiana you’re so pretty.”

“Aw (Y/n) thank you!”

“Seriously though you’re like a painting. I still can’t believe you don’t model.”

“Honestly (Y/n) you’re such a charmer!”

Your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t do anything for a nightly routine or facials or specific remedies to look how she does. Seeing her when you do it seems like the scale of her looks ranges from glowing to immaculate. It certainly makes getting free stuff with her much easier. She just will credit one thing to her looks and even then she doesn’t talk about it much.

“Maybe it’s what I eat…I have been eating more meat, lately.”

But your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t explain anymore, usually going on a tangent about how she can season her meat. She’ll refuse to tell you just how stringent her beauty is on her carnivorous diet. Because on top of being a good friend to you, she is a Witch. Specifically, the kind that maintains her health and youth by devouring the souls and bodies of human beings. She usually prefers eating children but since she’s met you she’s decided to reign it in.

“What if me and (Y/n) had a baby? Hehe, I can’t believe it’s making me blush so much.”

“Aaaaahh please let me go home!!! I promise not to tell!”

“Hmmmm maybe we’ll have 3…or 5 or 10. They won’t be allowed to leave if we have that many right?”

Rhiana the Witch has been doing this for hundreds of years and she’s had her fair share of lovers and harems. But she’s never found out about someone so early in advance. When she was much younger much dumber of 113  she’d seen a vision featuring you, of course at the time she didn’t know. Nor was she aware just how much seeing the future you had awakened something in her. Now she’s well in her 600s and she realizes how all of her flings in the past have features of yours or they speak like you. Or how her familiars mirror different aspects of your personality and as she delves into her past she realizes how all her life she’s been building up to be with you.

“(Y/n) is my….special person….their mine. All Mine!”

Now on top of feeding her voracious appetite, she’s trying to gain your affections so that she has your consent to make you immortal like she. If you might think it’s because she respects boundaries, then you’d be wrong. The potion she’s perfected over centuries only works if you give your express consent, with as little pressure as possible. So she’s refrained from drugging you on her many outings with you…for now. 

If I wanted to I could sprinkle a light aphrodisiac dust into the food they just keep shoveling into their mouth.

“But then I–HACK—*cough cough*”

“Hon, maybe don’t talk while you’re eating.”

“Right! So as I was saying–”

But Elements do I adore just watching them eat so happily.

She feels like a hapless teen all over again as her stomach flips and turns the more time she spends with you. No longer can she get a wink of her enchanted eyes and some choice sugar-coated words to get you exactly where she wants you. She has to try with you and she’s never wanted to do so more than with you. She’s even begun to tailor her meals with the ones that seem to bother you most. It’s risky but the satisfaction of a full tummy while she reads your letter about the creepy vendor finally stopping their emails makes her happy. 

“That is convenient.”

“I know. It’s not right to celebrate anyone going missing—”

“But it doesn’t take away from the harm they’ve done. Don’t feel bad hon it’s probably just an extended trip somewhere to the underworld.”

She thinks about how she’ll hide her rejuvenating diet when she finally gets you closer to her. You might not notice when she uses magic but you're not an idiot; you’d figure it out eventually. Not to mention the added trouble of her familiar’s growing interest and past suitors budding their noses in her business with you. She’s got a lot of work on her hands—and not a lot of time.

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t I come visit you every once in a while? Two days a month just isn’t enough time to make you fall in hopeless love with me+. What do say to me spending a night or two at yours?”

She's giving the former mc going for the side character reader Debating about a part 2 🖤🖤🖤🖤

I did it! Part 2: Here 🖤🖤🖤

[just-another-random-cloud]

(Click for better quality)

Not sure what I think about this one but if I try to work more on it I'll go insane so-

Worried/Protective Older Brother Martin is my serotonin.

This will happen again, probably

Tiny little scene:

The forest seemed to grow each second more that they were there, left alone in the dark, the unknown, only with distant sounds of nocturnal animals and the wind softly shaking the folliage to keep them company. They seemed to be out of danger for now, but, for how long?

But that was far from the biggest issue plaguing his mind at the moment.

No, what was gnawing at his brain like a carnivore to fresh meat was the fact that, well, he was the oldest, right? It was his job to keep them safe. It was his job to guide the way and make sure his little brother was kept away from harm.

Then why was Chris the one bleeding right now?

Why was Chris the one who jumped into action to protect him?

Why was Chris the one who got the worst of it?

He couldn't stop blaming himself. If he hadn't been so distracted goofing off he could have-

A weak groan pulled him off of his thoughts. The green-dressed brother seemed to be floating in and out of counciousness, eyes unfocused, but luckily he still seemed to hear the older one, even managing to answer in a quiet, hoarse voice, so different from his usual tone. He made Chris promise he'd never try a dangerous stunt like that again, but knowing his brother, he knew it was hopeless.

He couldn't exactly say he wouldn't do the same, in his place.

Even with the dread and the fear and the guilt, he still found a place in his heart to be so overwhelmingly proud and thankful of the youngest. He was so brave the whole time... even if it was very stupid as well. But in the deep end, they'd both be dead if it wasn't for him.

And he just knew deep down that Chris wouldn't blame him at all at the end of the day.

And maybe that only made things worse.

But for now, the least he could do was stay by his brother's side, keeping him safe and awake until the team arrived.

He just hoped it would be soon...

(was it an animal? Bots? Poachers? Who knows? :3○)

[kingconia]

Hello I js read ur MC who takes inspriration from the protag of their stories and if you're still taking requests, is it possible to do a part 2 for it?

A/N: You are welcome. I pondered a little about the continuation of this concept, and figured out that Leona & Vil had the most potential for the second part, since I left a cliffhanger in their stories. Others seemed quite cliche or obvious—Riddle has a crush, he can easily deal with, and same goes for Malleus, Azul & Idia. I hope, you don't mind.

The first part can be found here. Obviously, read it first for the context.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR & VIL SCHOENHEIT WITH THE READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST OF THEIR STORIES.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Leona is bad at admitting aloud that he made a mistake, but it doesn't necessarily mean he has no realisation of it. He knows, he hurt you. That is obvious;

— He starts paying more attention to you in the school, since he hasn't figured out how to fix your relationship yet. And that is when he notices that... You are actually not as cheerful as he remembered you to be? Most of the time, you sit away from other students of Savanaclaw?

— When he asks Ruggie about that, he shrugs. He tells Leona that you were always like this, and they even call you ”the sombre heir” among themselves, since you are not quite fun to have around. Leona is surprised. You were so different with him...

— In the end, Leona simply decides to speak with you honestly. He has this feeling that you will accept him either way. You always did before. But, oh, seems like he is not on your good side anymore, isn't he?

•

”Oi, kittie, watcha doin'?” Leona plops in front of you, putting his elbows on the table.

He is nervous, he will not lie about. It is the first time he feels such an overcoming anxiety before someone alive, and that is strange. It is just you, after all. Right?

”Dunno,” you answer slowly, putting a slice of meat in your mouth. ”Thinking about my family, who died so yours could take our throne away. You, Leona?”

Well, you definitely are not planning to forgive him so easily.

Leona shifts uncomfortably as he tries to catch your gaze. Without a luck.

”I accept my fault,” he murmurs quietly, hardly audible. ”And if anything, I understand your pain. I, too—”

A sudden laugh from your lips makes him stop in the tracks. As you wipe your mouth with the napkin, you smile suddenly. And when you raise your eyes on him, Leona almost flinches. Because there is nothing kind or gentle in these orbs now. Instead, they are cold. They are cold, and at the same time, they are awfully mad.

”What would you know about it, golden boy?” Your voice shift in a condescending tone as you shake your head slightly. ”Kings like your brother, Leona, they have honour. And princes like you or your little nephew have a bravery and heart. But people like me, Leona, the fallen ones, we only have rage. So, excuse me, but I don't think we are at the same page, kittie.”

You are hissing your last words, hand coming to grab Leona by his chin, tip of claws scratching his skin. He wants to back away, he intends too, but he is suddenly strangely fascinated by you. Intimidated, even.

”If you want to apologise, Leona, then do it properly. With falling on your knees, at least,” your fangs flash in a carnivorous smirk. ”And until then, have your dreams. Sweet or not—we will see in which mood I am going to be today.”

Leona gulps as he watches you leaving, eyes fixated on your back.

Perhaps you ignored his existence until now, willing to forget his rudeness. But now, it seemed, he lost the last pieces of your mercy.

...And he needs to figure out how to have your forgiveness really quick.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Vil is not surprised when headmaster warns him, that someone from his dorm attempts to take away his housewarden title. He already knows who it is, and he is not surprised to see your face, when he enters the main hall;

— He had a bad week already: his hair products worked awfully, your number of followers outnumbered his own, and Neige practically took the role that was his in the very last moment. It is only logical that in the same week you attempt to take his title;

— And, of course, you succeed. The poison you created can be only worth of the Pomefiore housewarden, and no one can deny that. Even Vil. In fact, he always acknowledged your brains and wilt, so of anything, he feels it is fair win;

— What makes him stop frozen, though, is the person you want to see as your vice. Originally, Vil thought that you will take Rook—he is quite aware of his attraction towards you—but then... You chose him? Why? Why would you do that?

•

”Well,” Vil says, when the two of your are left in the room alone, and there is no need to act as you were friends anymore. ”What else are you planning to do with me? You are the housewarden—you won. Why making me your vice?”

You turn on your heels to face him, a big and shiny smile plastered on your face as you step closer to him.

”Don't be so mean, Vil-sama. Why do you act as if I hate you? I don't,” you put yours hands on chair handles he is sitting at, invading his personal space gracefully. ”I cannot hate a person, who helped me to understand what my signature spell is.”

Vil furrows, pressing his back to the chair more firmly, not trusting you coming close to him. Yet, it hardly changes anything—the tips of your noses are practically touching.

”I apologise, but I cannot recall such a thing.”

He had never helped you with anything in your life. Now, Vil is ashamed that he didn't.

He remembers your first day in the dorm. How you clinged to his side, with stars shining in your eyes, asking him about this and that. How you attempted to befriend him. How you only originally started to speak with Rook to understand him better.

Vil failed the little student of his.

And the person in front of him didn't want his acceptance now.

”How come?” Your hands are suddenly on his head, fingers wrapped around his favourite diadem, taking it off slowly. ”After all, you were the first beast I spoke with.”

He flinches, and you carefully kiss him on the cheek before putting the diadem on your own hair. It looks nice.

Vil hates that.

”I miss the kid you were,” he murmurs against his best judgement.

You hum.

”Bear the monster you created, instead.”

You left him on the vice position so it could be a remind for his mistake. For his cruelty. For his arrogance. He realises it now. You don't need to do anything special to hurt him, if he does it to himself, working under your command on the daily basis, seeing you shine, when he burns out.

You are beautiful, Vil accepts that. Your revenge is a charming one, too.

”I heard Neige got that role?” You ask suddenly, when he reaches doors, unwilling to turn back. ”Such a shame. Something must happened.”

He grits his teeth.

Vil hates himself for making you like this. Yet, he can't help but feel proud. Whatever he created you as—you would take what is yours, with blood and sweat. He can admire that about you. And deep inside, Vil thinks you do that, too. Deep inside you enjoy it as much as you hate it.

”Yes. Something.”

After all, there is truly nothing Vil can do, but accept his defeat.

The king is dead. Long life to you.

A/N: Based on protagonists or not—they had some darkness in theirselves as well; just as Simba was quite ruthless, when the situation required of it, in many interpretations of the tale, Snow-white learned how to be cruel, too. I think it is enamoring how these said protagonists can be just as their villains, especially if they were growing up around them in one way or another.

[liveontelevision]

Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader

As promised, here she is -

It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!

CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder

♡♡♡

Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.

Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.

It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.

But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.

It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.

Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.

You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.

A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.

Meat.

It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.

As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.

You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.

Poor thing.

Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.

You invited him over.

As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.

"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.

Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?

Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.

"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"

One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.

The inexperience helps.

You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.

You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.

Disgusting.

Pig.

He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.

Strong.

Muscular.

You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.

You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.

You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -

"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.

Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.

You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -

You're shaking.

You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.

You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?

… You'll have to work on that.

You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.

Now.

Do it now.

You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.

You have to do it now.

You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.

You shut your eyes.

The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.

A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.

"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.

The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.

Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.

You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.

You hid weapons everywhere.

A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.

With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.

You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.

You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.

In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.

-

"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"

A voice?

It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.

"W-Who-"

"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.

"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"

How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.

You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.

"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.

He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.

-

You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.

Right.. make-up from the date.

You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.

Smooth.

Maybe even softer than you remember previously.

Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.

Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.

Not anymore.

You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.

Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.

That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -

You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.

"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.

"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.

"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"

...

You're too tired for this.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.

You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.

That seems to wake you up.

Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.

"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.

"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.

"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.

"He attacked me, actually."

"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"

With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.

"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.

In your head.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.

"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.

“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.

All of you.

Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.

“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.

“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.

“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”

Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.

Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.

“I would be absolutely delighted.”

-

“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”

You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.

He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.

You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.

“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”

All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.

“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.

The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.

By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.

“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.

“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.

“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”

“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.

-

“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.

“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.

“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”

“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”

You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.

“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.

“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”

Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -

“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”

“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”

An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.

At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.

“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.

Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.

“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”

-

And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.

When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.

That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.

And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.

He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.

Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.

One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.

“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.

“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.

“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.

His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.

“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”

In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.

“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.

“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.

Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.

“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.

With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?

“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”

“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.

“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.

You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.

You loved it.

You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.

Wait, did he say Hell?

“You’re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.

“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.

You.

I can live this way because of you.

He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?

Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-

Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.

But, could it be something to look forward to?

Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?

“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.

There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?

You didn't see him for awhile after that.

-

Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.

This is purely transactional.

Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.

It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.

You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.

There was no warning.

There was supposed to be a warning.

The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.

Your date took no time. No hesitation.

The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.

It seems so quiet.

And it's awful.

Where was the warning?

If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.

With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.

By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.

“You must be new~”

“You’re very handsome!”

“How did you die?”

A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.

“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”

Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.

Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.

It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.

You died.

You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-

“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.

-

“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”

A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.

Lucky you.

She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.

You really are in Hell.

Right where you belong.

Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.

You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.

What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!

“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.

“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”

“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.

Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.

-

As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.

You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.

After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.

“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.

“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.

“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.

“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.

“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”

She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.

“It’s a deal, darling!”

-

You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.

You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.

You had a family.

Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.

Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.

In Cannibal Town.

In Hell.

It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.

On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.

The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.

It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.

“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”

“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Alastor.

He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?

It’s absurd.

He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.

You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.

Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.

An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.

He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.

He catches your eyes.

The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.

And stops singing.

Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.

Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.

Oh, he’s nervous.

You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.

Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.

-

“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.

You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.

Almost.

But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.

Just a little.

Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.

“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”

“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.

How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?

“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-

“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”

“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.

“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.

But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.

The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.

“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”

He can not be serious.

You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.

“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.

“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.

“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.

A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.

“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.

He's nervous, again.

“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.

“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”

“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”

“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.

He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.

“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.

Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.

“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.

His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.

Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.

♡♡♡

“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”

I love when Alastor fucks up and found out

THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE

Tag list:

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee / @0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @the-maladaptive-daydreamers / @str4wberry-t00th-anon / @voxrei / @raythegay )

[bogleech]

OH MY GOD does it fucking piss me off that some piece of shit owns "nutritionfacts.org" and uses it to spread outright lies about health. Fucking asshole. This video on youtube is over a decade old with countless views, and it directly implies that you can get a tapeworm infection in your brain from eating raw pork.

I've one on this rant several times before but I'll go on it again: Tapeworms have a complex life cycle where every single stage behaves completely different, and is contracted in a completely different way. The simplified version is that you will only get tapeworm larvae in your brain or other tissues if you ingest tapeworm eggs from fecal matter, such as in contaminated water, soil, or unwashed produce. The stage that can be found in raw meat is what becomes the adult tapeworm, which is very easy to treat and not life threatening. This video and many other fearmongering articles on "PORK tapeworms IN YOUR BRAIN!!!!" either does no research or deliberately leaves out the critical details in order to conflate all stages of tapeworm as the same exact thing and scare people into thinking they'll get it from a fucking hot dog. Naturally the comments on these are full of smug veganism of course. Don't tell them all the nastiest, deadliest food-borne illnesses pretty much come from lettuce. If you want to understand why it works that way I'll put the longer technical life cycle explanation under a cut:

So a tapeworm begins as a microscopic egg. It's very sticky, and it can survive a long time "hibernating" in that egg, like a sea monkey! The only thing that will hatch the egg is exposure to stomach acid when it gets accidentally swallowed by something. When this egg hatches, it becomes a specific type of larva that only exists to tunnel out of the stomach, keep tunneling through the tissues of the body, and eventually become a "cyst." This is another "hibernating" stage. It doesn't feed or grow. It just stays there hanging out in the meat, and unfortunately, sometimes hanging out in the brain tissue. The goal of this cyst is to be eaten again, by a carnivore. When this cyst comes into contact with stomach acid again, it begins development into the adult tapeworm, the one that just chills in your digestive tract and absorbs your digested food. This can grow very large and it can cause metabolic problems but it is not very dangerous; some people have one for their whole adult life and never know it. It is extremely easy to treat. The danger of the adult is that it produces the eggs, millions of them, which come out in the host's feces. As mentioned earlier, the only FOOD that might have these eggs on it is food potentially handled by someone who doesn't wash their hands, which unfortunately includes a lot of produce. Fecal contamination is very common in hand-picked vegetables, especially those that outsource to poorly treated, poorly paid labor (which is lots of them)

[meowmeowriley]

Bunny ghost anon again, with a slightly more normal but not really idea, where one of the things that tips Johnny off to Ghost’s species is the amount of greens he goes through. This is a man Johnny has found at 3am, shoveling arugula into his mouth from the bag. No salt, no oil, no dressing. And it’s happened more than once. You’d think a man as beefy as ghost would be an absolute carnivore, but Soap knows better than most that leaves can translate into the plumpest bunnies. So he goes on the ever-so-subtle mission of finding Ghost’s Favorite Leaf. Different lettuces, bok choy, spinach, watercress, parsley, cilantro, basil, blackberry, raspberry, mint, fennel. Ends up with a whole garden on base trying to keep his favorite rabbit well-fed.

-🐇👻

I love this so much, but I'm gonna approach it a bit differently.

Once Soap finds out Ghost is a bunny shifter he's initially shocked, and then appalled. He's seen Ghost eat. (How the hell he ignored the buck teeth, which should have been his first sign, he'll never know.) He's seen Ghost eat meat. That's not good for him. Wild rabbits have been known to eat meat when food is scarce, but that's when things are dire. No wonder the man was so lean.

That just wouldn't do. Soap made it his mission to correct Ghost's appalling diet. At the next meal, he found Ghost in the mess, a tray containing eggs and bacon in front of himself. He was about to dig in.

Soap swipes the tray away. Thump. Ghost is not pleased. "Sergeant. That's my breakfast."

"You're an herbivore."

"I'm hungry. Don't make me make it an order, give me back my food." Thump. Soap takes off running.

He runs into the kitchen, rips open the industrial fridge, and grabs a head of bok choy. He whips around to find Ghost bearing down on him, absolutely about to beat his ass, fist raised, and he thrusts the veg into Ghost's chest.

Ghost... examines the food... takes a bite... humms a bit... and backs down. Soap very nearly died, and damn was it worth it to see the softness overtake Ghosts features.

***

Soap gives a list to Price, of all the things rabbits can eat, who gives it to medical, who puts in a request for the kitchen staff to start offering vegetarian options at every meal.

There's a garden on base after that. Soap tends to it. Sometimes finds his Lieutenant stealing from it.

"Hey, get out of my fucking garden!"

"I'll shit in your fucking garden!"

Which wouldn't actually be a problem, rabbit excrement makes excellent fertilizer. It's the principle of the matter.

[vinestaffery]

Scythe X cop or detective reader where Scythe kidnaps reader to join her cult or somthing

of course!! im a bit tired atm and my schedule bursted up again, so the other people that have requested, i will be taking a bit of a while to post them fully, but i promise i am working on them!! sadly this is gonna have to be a drabble, im so sorry </3

Characters: Scythe, GN! Reader Prompt: One-sided Romance I think???, Small Drabble Warnings: Usage of (pet) names; Mentions of murder; Slightly descriptive but vague of how Scythe killed civilians; Religious themes; Kidnapping; Drugging; Scythe being a literal serial killer; Indoctrination(?)

Days were never suppose to be this harsh. You were always looking for new angles for the strange disappearances of many civilians in Lost Temple, yet it seemed like every new case was to mock your work.

Someone was watching you, for all you know.

Days were becoming longer, more dissociative then regular. Someone was watching you, you could feel it. It was like being played with like prey, if anything, a piece of meat in the claws of a carnivore.

But, it didn't let you shoot you down off your pedestals. You still, somehow, no matter what found a way to link to your suspects. White, gold and teal clothing, and the way the victims were left.

Cut, bloodied and garnished. Ripped apart in one slick-move, a slice. Head, shaven off of it's horns before being squashed like a tomato with a heel.

You were connecting up the dots to your very last suspect; Scythe.

You met her a few times, once at a bar, another when you had nearly gotten into some beef with some stragglers late at night. She was somewhat always there to support you, but would be never seen again. You took note of this.

When the investigation was left up to you, the police huddling outside for their break; the sun blared down below the alleyway. The shadows were your spectators, witnesses to a brutal massacre of several.

It was her. It was her, how she always disappeared, how everything seemed to become more of a blur. She was always there.

All she had to do, was find her, or catch her in the act.

"I'll get you, one way or another," you whispered to yourself.

"Well, you've bet to get on wit' it, don'tcha?"

A voice seemed to silence all thoughts. You didn't turn to face the new opponent.

You readied your hand-gun that was strapped to your left thigh, hand hovered cautiously over it.

"You and ya littl' ol' brain, finally come to make senses haven't cha? Fufufu..." Scythe laughed, a claw raised and a large weapon rested on her shoulder.

Your heart was thumping, you had no clue what had happened to the people that were here before; blood leaked across the floorboards.

"You must watch yourself, Snake, or else," you threatened, vile in your throat and hatred in your words.

"Or else what, my fine sheep, you goin' to do something?" Her name-calling was getting on your nerves. "The sheep, the one who follows, threatenin' big ol' me? Why, what a show."

"You best watch your tone, or else I'll get those men to take you away-" "And do what? Shoot me with this?" She plucked a gun from her pocket, you could hear it fall and chatter on the cold, hard ground. It rung in your ears.

"Say, maybe if you are ta hear me out, I'll leave ya' be!" Scythe snarled in a smirk, eyeing at you as you gave a small turn. Your hand still readied by your waist.

"And what must that be?" You questioned.

It took her seconds before she was up close, hand over your prepared one as she pulled you into a hold. Your hands, crunched in her soft leather glove while the other one, outstretched and squished by her metal.

"Scream, and everyone in this town's blood will be on your hands, rabbit," You were petrified but held in your sounds, clogged in your throat. You could just throw up.

She took notice, and started dragging you away. In a sorts of type of kidnapping, it was uncomfortable. She caressed your cheek, holding you close as she kept viable eye on you.

Everything started to become fuzzy, did she slip a drug into you by chance? No, she couldn't have. That's not her sense of style. But, everything and everywhere became unrecognizable.

"That's it, we're nearly there, my sweet," Scythe was astonished at how you were still able to walk, to even keep yourself up with her as you seemed to become tired and unable to respond.

Her scorpion tail came back close to her once more.

"Fucking- scorpion.." You pointed out, the tip of her stinger dripped a certain chemical before you fell into the warm-heated sand.

Light's blared into your face as you suddenly awoke. Your back was in pain, brain spinning and pleading to be free from it's coffin.

"Fuck-.. where?"

"Ah-ah ah! Don't want the doctors hard-work to be demolished shall we?" Scythe's voice rung through the room. It echoed in your ears.

"Where am I!" You screamed, but it seemed no use as she walked over. Her heels clicked to the solid, clear marble ground.

A hand reached over, two clawed fingers pinched at your chin and made her look up. God, she was tall, and quite beautiful, for a serial killer. "Wouldn't wanna wake up the others now, do we?" Her scorpion tail threatened as it reached in view.

Eyes widened, and a simple nod in command. She let go in a rough manner.

"Now, you best listen to me, or else you'll end up the same way those people ended up," Your ears wanted to close, but you made eye-contact with her.

She took it as an agreement.

"You've rose quite an interest in me, my sweet. I wouldn't think such people like ya' would be so heavily fascinated in my work of art," Work of art? What is she talking about? Those were never work of art. Those were polished crime-scenes of horror. Onslaughts.

"Now, I wouldn't want my favourite detective, my favourite sheep to be close to finding out about me now do I?" You shook your head.

"Good. Now, if you want to live and make it out of this room alive, you best follow my words," Alive?! "What do you mean 'make it out alive'? I have no deeds to share with you!" You spat.

"Oh, but you mustn't think of it that way. Think of it as a way of... saving you and mine's life. You see, I work for someone quite special deity," Special? Who could be anymore special then the SfOTH? The respected deities, gods if you will?

"There's no one as special as the SfOTH, those deities would crush someone as despicable as your boss."

That struck a nerve.

"You best keep that mouth shut, or else I will do more damage then what my boss would do to you and everyone in this god-for-saken town," Her weapon in hand, you squeaked. You stayed quiet once more.

"... Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I want you to join me, in order to protect you from the harms that might come your way for your... case," "Work with you?" "Yes."

You could nearly laugh! But you couldn't, you'd die.

"...Any benefits?"

"Oh, darling. Benefits were already arranged the first time we met," You snarled. Of course, she was planning this all along at the very start.

"Now, do we have a deal?"

Silence.

A long, period of silence.

"Well?"

You couldn't stop thinking about your family. Your friends, people you considered close.

"You best answer me, clock is ticking."

Your father, mother, what about your pets? What about, what about, what about?!

A slam of the chair, and a rising heat of pain strucking your face as you cried out.

"I've given you one chance at this, now you best answer me! Yes, or nay?" Scythe knelt down to face at you.

"One."

No Answer.

"Two."

No answer.

"THREE-"

"I ACCEPT! I will join your stupid- fucking team!"

...

"Good."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”

[featherwurm]

Dinnertime (something cooked by Gale out of a nice selection of what the group has found and bought) at camp Tadfool, and here's some headcanons I have on food preferences of the lot:

Shadowheart – Omnivorous and a little picky, she’s sort of figuring out what she likes again and as always enjoys flexing her opinions. Loves fruits and nuts, and has a surprising taste for rare meats. Sometimes forgets to eat or looses track in the middle of a meal without reminding.

Lae’zel – Likes meat, meat, and more meat. Will add some variety into that but gith are biologically highly carnivorous. Has a real like of Bauldiran seafood (especially octopus and crustaceans) as it’s more akin to what’s available on the astral plane and in Gith rations, but will gladly tear into a steak or kebab. She can eat an absolutely terrifying volume for her frame, which she says is also normal.

Astarion – Stuck on that good old liquid diet, he is right that blood taste can be affected by things like age, lifestyle, and species, but he’s honestly not that into the distinction (and he hasn’t actually tried enough sapient varieties in a thoughtful way to have any real taste for one vs another, plus it does all taste good to him.) While he’ll always wax poetic, honestly just a human in good health tastes best to him (despite Tav letting him drink off of her first, in retrospect her tiefling blood has a faint smokey/spicy taste he doesn't quite like as much.)

Wyll – A real cruiser and grazer, likes a nibble of this and a bit of that and some of this. He’s so used to camp rations and foraging it seems to have sort of translated into a real love of charcuterie. Tends to get into things before they are cooked for a nibble. Still quite mannerly about things and his mess kit is kept immaculate.

Gale – A meat and potatoes kind of guy. Big on pasta and noodles. He’ll eat his veggies but he prefers them smothered in cheese or cream sauces. A bit like a big kid, but he he has the cooking skill to pull off fancier versions of childhood staples (and, of course, cooks in good variety for the tadfool crew, quick to show off his skills and breadth of knowledge.)

Karlach – Member in good standing of the clean plate club. Likes pretty much everything you put in front of her, but her favorites are big rare cuts of meat, meat pasties and pies, and other easy sources of protein like eggs and cheese. Tieflings like/need a slightly higher proportion of meat proteins in their diet than humans, but aren’t as extreme as the Gith. Karlach still likes pretty much everything though, and gets excited over tasty fruit, veg, and herbs too.

Tav – Was a very picky eater as a child but has mellowed with age and experience and likes pretty much everything, although some textures still put her off a bit (she’ll grudgingly eat things like casseroles and things with wet bread, but she’s not a fan – although she doesn't outwardly gripe.) Has a big sweet tooth and is a real fan of a lil treat.

Bonus: Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Tav stop for a quick rest and have a snack of some foraged nuts (walnuts) and berries (raspberries.) I know walnuts that aren't removed from their skins make quite a mess, and Karlach's hands are getting quite stained:

Astarion can't enjoy much, but blood is mostly water and fresh water is always good.

[sleepyc63]

artificer's pups in my AU!

(the name of the collector was given to me by @ok1237! hope you don't mind the tag, it just felt right to give credit)

their story + more rambling under cut

Before I go into the characters' stories, I feel like I should add a bit of background to how I believe(or head-canon) the cycle works.

Basically, every creature is immortal until ascension (or other method of permadeath: ex. Rot). This means no matter what age, how you died, when you died whatever, you will wake up in the next cycle. There are no alternate timelines for each creature, if someone dies, it is never permanent. You die, you come back unharmed (physically, mentally however... yikes). Simple as that.

^^^ Less intelligent creatures, such as slugcats, are usually unaware of this fact. Specifically, Artificer is not aware of this. As far as she knows, her pups are gone.

The toll attack plays out as it does in the game. Blue pup is impaled and killed on impact. Arti and Green pup try to get away, but are hit by an explosive that blinds Arti, and stuns Green pup.

As explained earlier, Blue pup, nicknamed "Pearl" by Artificer, inevitably comes back in the next cycle, now separated from their family.

Green pup, nicknamed "Leech", does not drown. She escapes the leeches by stunning them, which is also the first appearance of the abilities she inherited from her mom. She tries to find her mom, but is forced to seek shelter before the rain kills her.

Within the following cycles, all three have parted ways. Pearl, now terrified of the Scavengers, flees the Garbage Wastes and finds himself in Industrial Complex. Leech finds herself in Waterfront Facility, still searching for her mother. Artificer.. well, we know where she is.

Pearl, inspired by Industrial's previous state as a factory, ends up learning how to craft items of their own (With help of the "fire spit" they inherited from Arti). They gave themself a title based on their love of the items they found, The Collector. He never lost his grudge against the Scavengers for separating him from his family (at this point, he believes them to be dead), only keeping peace with them for trade and convenience.

Leech, on the other hand, is still desperately searching for her mother. They're uninterested in anything but having their family back, and this makes an impact on their health (mental and physical). She lives off of only meat, favoring the Scavengers. She earned her title "The Parasite" from the Scavengers spreading word about her tendencies to target them. When they eventually give up on finding their mother, they stay in Subterranean, mindlessly feeding off the creatures there, only motivated to keep living from hope she will someday find her mother.

---

Other info:

> Both pups inherited some of Artificer's powers, but being half natural slugcat, they're dulled down significantly.

> Collector got her bomb jump, crafting skill, partial explosion immunity, and water sensitivity. They have a normal omnivore diet.

> Parasite got her bomb jump, parry, maul, partial explosion immunity, and carnivore diet.

> As of right now, only Collector is aware of how the cycle works. He is aware his mother and sister are out there somewhere, but he's terrified the Scavengers will attack and kill him again.

> Parasite is partially aware, as she has died and woken up again, but she doesn't know this applies to other creatures.

> Artificer is not aware. In her eyes, her pups were murdered in cold blood thousands of cycles ago.

> Everyone hates the Scavengers. Collie is afraid of them, Para eats them, Arti murders them. Family bonding!!!

---

that's it!! it's a work in progress as of right now, some details will be worked on and given more thought later on. feedback is VERY appreciated!! i am not a writer (these are some of the first OCs i've created and taken seriously ... ever) so i dont mind constructive criticism as long as you’re nice about it :))

btw....... if you’re interested in my OCs..... you should totally check out my askblog..... @ask-sleepys-slugs.... i've been trying to flesh out a story for my OCs and people asking questions reallyyy helps my creative process, so i'd appreciate it 🙏🙏

anywayyy byee :]

[xx0acidicorchid0xx]

some notes on wolverines (mustelidae) and Logan

cause new hyperfixation (its been goin on since a few weeks ago). gonna preface this by saying i have only seen the first x-men movie, and whatever else i found on tiktok n tumblr through my hyperfixation hoarding, so if anything is wrong or actually canon (or not canon) I'm sorry

notes under cut:

wolverines, while technically weasels, theyre the largest terrestrial weasel, and can weigh 26-50lbs.

Logan, is 5'3, but weighs at least 300lbs due to the admantium skeleton (195lbs without, meaning this small furry smelly man is just pure bulk)

wolverines are muscular n stocky and have thick fur (also waterproof n oily to prevent frost n such in them harsh canadian forests), are native to canada but can be found in similar environments, and are described as lil balls of violence and are extremely territorial around their food, family, and themselves (only out of necessity in order to survive the winter wastelands they live in). they also lack social skills and pack behavior like wolves

Logan, hairy beefy man, born in canada, described as an asshole, is violent n aggressive, but also severely traumatized. now with the fur, wolverines are nicknamed skunkcats because of how much they reek (they also mark whatever carcass they stole or found so nothing else can take it from em or where they buried it). if Logan (who canonically reeks) has waterproof n oily fur, it must be real difficult getting him to shower (not to mention he doesnt like getting wet) and also the water will not be able to get to his fucking skin because hes built to survive canadian woods.

wolverines are also commonly found in trees, as they use the height to locate prey and eventually pounce onto said prey

from some of the panel screenshots ive seen, Logan isnt unfamiliar with climbing onto trees

wolverines have been known to take on animals 3x their size, such as fuckin Moose, polar bears, elk n caribou, etc etc (only difference here between the mustelid and Logan is that there is no known attack on a human by a wolverine).

while wolverines have semi-retractable claws, Logan's claws are fully retractable. they (both the animal and Logan) have huge paws/hands, for the animal, its to prevent sinking into the snow

along with the thick waterproof fur and stocky build, theyre latin name gulo basically means glutton, so they have to eat a fuck load in order to maintain their body temp (usually they just eat their weight or very frequent small meals, but larger stuff is common), also theyre carnivorous but will eat anything they can find or kill, usually carcasses from avalanches n such, aka opportunity eaters

i have heard that Logan eats a shit ton, especially meat, but only large meals when alone, and small meals more frequently at the mansion. with the body heat thing, it must be super hard for him post-adamantium to keep his body temp at a normal range without literally sitting in the sun all day.

despite the aggressiveness they develop in the wild, when domesticated (which ive heard/read is super easy than you would think), they become very attached to one person, who usually is the trusted handler. they exhibit very cat-like behaviors, except wolverines actually like being picked up and wearing harnesses, they also like pets (but again, the trusted handler thing). they can become calm when hearing a high pitched obnoxious voice, and can go into a kind of trance when their gums are rubbed.

not sure about the cat behaviors n harnesses n other shit for Logan, but with the voice thing: Wade. thats all i really need to say about that

wolverines are naturally polygamous, but do come back to the female every so often to help raise the kits. theres a video of a wolverine male leaving out a moose leg near a female's den so she can have something for the kits to eat

this man gets passed around the x-men mansion like coleslaw at a southern get together dinner, aint no way hes monogamous. he does worry about the women he basically adopted and raised (rogue, laura, jubilee i think, yukio?,, i cant name any others but theres several)

wolverines also have the ability to smell a frozen carcass from over a mile away (and lemme tell ya, unless you have an excellent sense of smell, frozen anything doesnt have a smell except sharp)

this man can canonically smell emotions, and be able to tell the difference between Mystique and Storm just from smell Alone.

wolverines are very vocal, usually this kinda snarl/snort/growl/mumbling/chuff sound

not sure about comic Wolvie, but Hugh Jackman (and Logan, obviously) does snort n growl n roar n other shit like that

wolverines' mating rituals often include fighting multiple times, and mate Only after the female is confident in the male's fighting (males who return several times are more likely to mate than males who only fight once or twice) and that the female doesnt submit too easily. this is so the female and male can ensure the produced kits are strong enough to survive

self explanatory, minus the producing kits (that i know of)

also fun lil fact, wolverines' back molars are rotated at a 90 degree angle, so they can gnaw through bone easier (supposedly this is a common trait for mustelids)

not sure about sideways molars, but Logan does canonically have longer, more animalistic canines

most of my notes and how i worded some stuff is taken from wolverine expert Steve Kroschel, and tumblr user @/icarusredwings, as they have Amazing notes and headcanons on wolverines and Logan

[yanderes-galore]

@an-ambiavalent prompts 12, 19, and 25 with Louis from Beastars, please?

Louis forces his Darling to join the Shishigumi as his partner and is forced to tag along with his plans and comments. It all leads to an argument where the Darling confesses that they hate the life he forced them into because of his selfishness. Louis however makes a point to explain to his Darling that he will always have the final say and that they belong to him, does he really have to remind them of that fact again?

Prompts Here

Sure, here you go! I hope you enjoy it :) I always have no idea if I got him OOC or not....

Yandere! Louis Prompts 12, 19, 25

"I’m only this desperate for you."

"Your happiness, your tears, your love, your hate – all of it belongs to me."

"You shouldn’t have tested my limits."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Toxic relationship, Controlling behavior, Blood, Violence, Murder/Death, Trauma, Kidnapping, There's some physical scenes but he doesn't hit you, Forced relationship.

Two herbivores in a lion's den.

That's how you felt about joining the Shishigumi. You never liked the idea, being an herbivore roaming the black market.... Yet Louis, your boyfriend, insisted you be under his care.

You had begun dating Cherryton's star student months ago. You always found him charming, attractive... and the feeling was mutual. However...

You didn't expect him to drag you into a gang he commandeered....

Louis became much more... controlling after that. Around lions, carnivores, Louis felt he needed to show he was in charge to everyone. He needed to show he was strong and powerful. Which unfortunately led to you two having arguments.

For a while, because you loved Louis, you tolerated it. You put up with his orders and lived in the shadows because you cared. Even as an herbivore, you felt you could handle it because he could.

Then you saw the horrors in the black market.

Everything from herbivore meat to drugs made from carnivores... you've never seen so much blood. Even Ibuki, Louis' right hand lion, became concerned about your mental health. However... Ibuki was not in the position to tell Louis what to do with you.

Nowadays you feel Louis has changed since you two began dating. Ever since he joined the Shishigumi and soon dragged you into it... he wasn't the same animal. No... He can't be if he keeps ignoring you and your feelings.

Arguments grew more and more common between you and Louis. They often start due to the stress you're put through. Like when you have to watch people be shot... or see blood splatter on the floor....

This is not the life you deserve.

But once again... Louis doesn't seem to care.

Another argument occurs as you sit with Louis in his office. He's looking over something at his desk, looking oddly calm. It disturbs you... just like everything else here. From the lions to the meat and blood.

"Just let me leave." You plead suddenly, hoping to convince your fellow herbivore partner to be reasonable.

"No." Louis snarls. "You're meant to be here with me. You're under my protection here."

"Captivity." You correct, causing Louis' eye to twitch. "You're keeping me here. You dragged me here... and for what!?"

"I’m only this desperate for you!" Louis snaps, standing from his desk harshly. You jump back a bit but still glare. "Must we always have this conversation? Must I always remind you, sweetheart?"

"You're more than just desperate." You scoff, standing up. "You're selfish. This is not the deer I fell in love with. You've changed. Can't you see that? Can't you see it's wrong to keep me here?"

"Selfish?" Louis scoffs with a laugh. "Selfish, huh? You think I'm selfish...?"

Louis then comes closer, staring you down. Even now he's an herbivore obsessed with trying to be a predator. Trying to intimidate you into staying with him... much more than genuinely getting you to love him again.

"Maybe I am selfish..." Louis hums with an irritated grin. "Maybe it is selfish to make you love me... to force you beside me... to be in control... but I don't care anymore."

You yelp when he grabs your shirt. It's subtle but you can tell he doesn't want to harm you. He just wants you to focus on him... or he just wants to prevent you from running while he proves his point....

"Your happiness, your tears, your love, your hate – all of it belongs to me." Louis growls, watching as you squirm. "Call it selfish if you want... but I prefer to call it love. I love you... and this is my way of protecting you. I have power here... no matter the means...."

"Love?" You try to pull away, yet Louis doesn't relent. "Louis... I used to love you... but now? I just want to leave... I want to continue my life... I just want you to let me go...."

The deer then pauses, hesitating. It's enough time for you to pull away and back off. Louis looks... lost for a moment. His amber eyes staring at you as he slowly puts his hand down.

Then you see his teeth clench.

"Don't you dare walk out that damn door..." Louis warns, seeing you place a hand around the door knob.

"Don't act like you own me...." You growl, opening the door as Louis stares at you with irritation...

Yet you're then greeted by two lions.

Lions who were seemingly on stand by.

"Bring them back to me." Louis orders coldly, going back to sit on his desk as he watches his two subordinates drag you back and place you on the couch. Louis glances at your fearful expression before clicking his tongue. "Tie their hands and feet, too."

A brief look of pity is given to you by the two lions... but they listen anyways.

You scream and buck as the two lions listen to their leader, restraining you before Louis hums in approval. Louis then gives a wordless command to dismiss them. The lions nod, casting you a glance of concern before leaving the room. The moment the door locks, it's just you and Louis alone in the silence.

"You shouldn’t have tested my limits." Louis sighs, still reigning in his frustration. "Never say such things... You do love me."

"I don't." You remain defiant as Louis heaves a disappointed sigh.

"Fine... Maybe you just need to be reminded that you and I belong together..." Louis threatens, moving off his desk to stand in front of you.

"You aren't leaving this room..." Louis warns, glaring at you as he tilts your chin up to lock eyes with him.

"Not until you learn your place by my side... and we can stop having these irritating conversations."

[dullgecko]

So headcanon about riz and goblins in general, based on that one scene where they’re all ordering at a dinner after defeating the night horn and riz orders like French toast, pancakes and waffles all at once (he’s like three and a half foot tall, where does all the food go!).

Since Goblins evolved in the mountains of chaos they developed feeding habits to better survive, that is they eat as much as physical possible as quickly as possible before something bigger and meaner than you either steals it or turns you into the next meal.

Think like how a lion or other carnivorous animals can eat a massive amount in one go then survive off that meal for like 2-3 days.

Rizs friends do t know thing particular goblin fact, so in the early day when they’re still getting to know each other it’s a major cause for concern watching riz only occasionally nibble on a snack then randomly devour a meal would fill up like 3 adaines.

A lot of theories go around, riz possibly having an eating disorder, money and food troubles causing weird eating habits or him not being comfortable enough to eat around them until he’s literally so hungry he can’t help himself.

They’re all prepared to sit down with riz and have a full intervention about what’s happening, only for riz to kinda laugh and explain that it’s just a goblin thing (they do get sklonda to later confirm it just because they’ve been so worried). Xx

there are so many instances of them offering Riz food and him being like "nah I'm good I ate yesterday".

It doesn't help that goblins are super skinny naturally and there's at least a couple instances of the rest of the kids trying to look up medical info on goblins to work out if he's underweight or not (he is but that's not because he's not eating, he's just eating the wrong things. His gorge days SHOULD be more meat based but more often than not its carbs on carbs on carbs). The medical info is almost always super minimal too, the best they found was in a monster manual and they felt insulted on Rizs behalf.