#lamb is going to cook me over this i fear. i feel it in my bones

[saintajax]

guys i’m gonna be so real rn the orville is bewitching me

[akkivee]

Health Conscious Curry: Hypmic Curry Drama Track TL

Jakurai: Hifumi-kun, Doppo-kun. I thank you for coming all this way to help make our curry. Time is of the essence, so let us begin right away.

Hifumi: Okie dokie!! I’ve got a bunch of ingredients here, so we can make whatever kind of curry we want!

Jakurai: Oh my! It does indeed look like a supermarket sized collection.

Doppo: And if there’s anything missing, please just say the word and I’ll run out to buy it!

Hifumi: So we got chicken, beef, pork, lamb and venison! And I even bought seafood and veggies, but I can’t decide on what main ingredient should be!

Jakurai: With this curry battle, it’s to be expected that the other divisions’ quirks will present itself in their curry.

Doppo: So then… what would be our trait?

Hifumi: Well, that’s obvs gotta be “finacially secure adults,” right?

Doppo: “Financially Secure Adults’ Curry” … Then, should we use this high-class sea urchin?

Jakurai: Yes, let’s. And… I would like to use something that makes one think of Shinjuku.

Hifumi: Great idea~! Something like our glimmering neon lights~!

Doppo: “Glimmering Neon Curry” …? D-do any of these ingredients light up??

Hifumi: Heehee~ I thought something like this would come up, so I brought some gold luster dust!!

Jakurai: It will surely be beautiful as a finish.

Hifumi: Chan-Doppo, you gotta let me know what you think too~!

Doppo: B-But it’s not like I have any cooking sense…

Jakurai: Doppo-kun. This is a curry to be made by the three of us. Therefore, you’re indispensable.

Doppo: I-Is that so…?

Jakurai: Of course. Please do not feel hesitant; let’s make this curry together.

Doppo: Um… If it’s okay, I really would like meat to be in the curry…

Hifumi: Cool!! What kinda meat??

Doppo: We’re trying for a sense of luxury, so I guess we should use beef, but some people don’t like beef… So, I guess chicken would be the safest choice? No, but it has to be something special, so we should use game meats right…?? Aaaargh, this is too hard, I can’t make up my mind!!

Hifumi: Woah?? But don’t take it out on the meat??

Jakurai: …How fascinating.

Hifumi: Eh?

Jakurai: A doctor, a host, and a salaryman are certainly on different corners of society… And yet, somehow, life has brought us together. I feel that this is the appeal of Shinjuku Division.

Doppo: I see! So then we should… Um, what should we do?

Hifumi: We should go with this!!

Doppo: We’re using all the meat??

Hifumi: Heh heh~!! We’re going to combine these land meats and sea meats and make it work!! It’ll be like we're making the Curry Division!!

 Jakurai: Haha. I hope we’ll be able to create a harmony of it, just like ours as Matenrou.

----------------

Hifumi: And curry is served!!

Doppo: It looks amazing!! Is this really our curry…??

Jakurai: It has quite the impact. As for the taste…

MTR: *eats*

Doppo: It’s so good!!! None of the ingredients are overpowering, but it still tastes like fine dining…!!

Hifumi: Heh heh~!! Obviously it’s because we only used the finest! If we sold this at a restaurant, you’d have to pay yen in the tens of thousands!!

Doppo: That can’t be the price?? Who would buy our curry??

Hifumi: Welp, I think that’s something the curry battle producers are gonna have to think about! …But, what’s up, Doc? You’re making a weird face over there.

Jakurai: I must apologize to the both of you. I have overlooked the most important aspect I wanted to include.

Doppo: W-What was it?

Jakurai: For this curry battle, I wanted to stress the importance of eating meals to maintain health. This curry is far too high in cholesterol, fats and in purines….

Hifumi: And using butter rice probably isn’t helping keeping that calorie count down…

Jakurai: If we continue to eat this, I fear gout and obesity would be imminent.

Doppo: That’s horrible!! I can’t believe we created something that dangerous…!!

Jakurai: This curry is a masterpiece. However, if it’s alright, can we create something else from a healthier standpoint?

Hifumi: Can do! But we kinda used up all our ingredients in that first batch…

Doppo: ...Ah! We still have these left!

Jakurai: Canned chickpeas and canned tomatoes…!!

Hifumi: Way to go, Doppochin!! If we use these, our curry’s bound to be healthy, right??

Jakurai: Yes. Beans are rich in dietary fibers and in protein and tomatoes have antioxidant benefits. This curry will surely be a healthy dish.

Doppo: A curry that’s conscious of health is still something of an adult appeal, right?

Jakurai: And to support everyone’s busy day to day lives, this meal will heal the mind and body. Victory is sure to be set with our “Health Conscious Curry”!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 12: Cooking together (Narinder)

i think theres a mosquito in my room because im getting so itchy!! prompt list here plot: you and narinder are assigned to cook for the cult while the lamb is out on a crusade, you ask something that sours the air notes: reader is gn, youre both followers, short fic, you guys are... not quite friends but not quite not friends word count: 868 cws: none

He was more than ashamed to have to ask for assistance on such a simple task, and yet the fact still remained: the former god of death did not know how to cook. At least, he didn't know how to cook anything that was edible. Asking his siblings, of which only a select few had been made to join the cult, was out of the question.

That's what lead to you being approached by Narinder, a look of just barely concealed defeat on his face. The smell of burnt food followed him; and now, you were standing next to him guiding him through the recipe he had been given prior to the Lamb's departure.

"You have the fire too hot, you're going to scorch the meat," You shot a look to him over your shoulder as you prepared the vegetables. He shoots a look back with narrowed eyes. "I know what I'm doing," His voice grumbled. "Clearly not," You muttered back, though out of the corner of your eye you could see him readjusting the heat.

You shook your head to yourself, putting the veggies in a bowl to the side and joining Narinder at the grill. "See, that's a lot better... that's probably where you messed up last time," You said, gently... you'd made the same mistake dozens of times when you were first learning how to cook. Still, Narinder only offered a short huff as you passed the bowl to him. "These just need to sit on the grill for a second, they don't need much,"

The cat only offered a nod before placing them neatly onto the fire, as opposed to the messy tossing you had caught him doing before asking for your help. You gave him his space and got started on cooking the meat, placing it on the grill not too far away from the vegetables. You caught him glancing at you for a moment before turning his attention back to his current task. His fur had begun to raise on the back of his neck, and his movements tense.

"If you want, I can help you whenever... Cooking isn't the easiest, especially since there's so many of us," You offered, a half smile on your face. You didn't want to make him feel like you were taking pity on him, but you still wanted to offer him some help... you could only hope that he understood you as he stared intensely as you. God or follower, his eyes still remained just as intense as they had been when the lamb faced him.

His pupils reduced to slits, before his ear flicked. He didn't say anything as he started to pick the food off the grill to keep them to the side. You gently poked the meat on the grill. You had hoped that extending your kindness would put him at ease, or at least feel...

"Why do you stay in the cult, Narinder?" You let slip, instantly pulling your eyes down to the grill as he snapped his neck to look at you. You busied yourself with the meat, but the air became nearly suffocating with the new found tension. "I mean..." You began, trying to kill the silence. "Sure... you're not exactly treated badly, no one's been overly mean to you exactly- at least no one's tried to fight you," You mumbled.

But not many of the other followers extended any kindness to him, not more than what was an expected courtesy and even then, not all of them bothered to give the former god of death the time of day.

You brought your gaze back to Narinder, finding that his ears lay flattened on his head now- his face unreadable but you could still tell there was no kind thought swirling in his head.

"What further use is there of me?" He hissed under his breath, and that was that.

You turned over what he said in your mind for a moment. It was true, when you forced yourself to think like him. He was once respected and feared, now reduced to a simple follower. What would become of him if he left to go live on his own, without his power? You'd already seen glimpses through some of the passing ridicule you've caught from whispering followers and half hidden side glances.

"Well," You started, pulling the meat off of the grill and passing it off to the fallen god, allowing him to rearrange the food into neat portioned bowls.

"You know how to make food look good," You said, offering another half smile. "And how to cook now, you have that going on for you," You added. "That's two things."

He huffed once more, but it sounded less heavy than the previous. He hung his head, seemingly admitting defeat as he gave it a slight shake. "Not without you," He muttered, placing the bowls of food to the side and alerting everyone that the food was ready. He gave you one last look before the swarm came; for the first time since he had asked for your help, his eyes had softened.

"Thank you," He said, short and just barely above a whisper before he slinked away to consume his share in a secluded corner.

[wellthebardsdead]

Falûne: *did all his morning and afternoon chores as he patiently waited his turn to speak to the father superior, arriving at his door with his lunch and tea as the last acolyte leaves after receiving their priesthood to be a cleric of Selûne* Father Superior? *knocks with his tail*

“*deep sigh* Come in, Lû.”

Falûne: *enters and walks to him setting his food down and taking his place at his side, right hand always over his left, and always silent unless spoken to*

Father Keldran: the pigs?

Falûne: Fed and their pen cleaned sir.

Father Keldran: the chickens?

Falûne: fed and eggs collected sir.

Father Keldran: the kitchens and dining facilities?

Falûne: Cleaned sir.

Father Keldran: the dormitory?

Falûne: beds stripped until the next arrivals and pans have been cleaned. The donkey is running the wash mill now sir.

Father Keldran: and dinner?

Falûne: prepared for you and the remaining priests sir. I’ll cook it at 5pm as always sir.

Father Keldran: good. *eats quietly looking over the papers on his desk, treating Lûnes presence like a piece of furniture rather than a person but feeling irritated already knowing the question hanging in the air waiting to be asked as he finishes his meal* you’re dismissed.

Falûne: *takes the tray quietly and steps back as he opens his mouth to let out what he’d been building up the courage to all week* Father su-

Father Keldran: *not looking up from his notes* no, lû.

Falûne: *bites his tongue, the curse already activating, a deep subconscious part of his mind hidden behind it knowing punishment is coming if he speaks up* b-but- but I’ve worked s-so hard and it’s a full moon tonight I can retake my rite and join the next acoly-

Father Keldran: ENOUGH FALÛNE! *slams his fist on the desk as he rises up* Selûne would never want or never need a foul blooded disobedient devil as her servant! You’re lucky I even allow you to live here as one when you’re clearly too ungrateful to even appreciate that! You always want more and more AND MORE! My answer is the same now as it always has been and always will be! *sighs grabbing a cane from behind his desk* and it seems I have to remind you of it yet. Again.

Falûne: *trembles and sets the tray down before facing the wall as he unlaces his high collar and slides his robe down his shoulders to expose his back* f-forgive me father…

Father Keldran: recite scriptures 1 through 5.

Falûne: *chokes out a sob as he tries to find the words knowing this’ll be a long and painful reminder* yes father superior.

*several hours later*

Falûne: *laying on the floor of father Keldrans office, eyes glazed over and glowing a faint purple as the curse erases the memory of the beating but leaves the painful and dreadful reminder of fear, his brittle horns splintering further and further as if something deep within himself is fighting back*

Father Keldran: *lifts him up and leans him against the wall as he heals his back and slides his robes back up, showing him the mercy of redressing him and gently stroking his tears from his face as he comes back to reality* What did we learn?

Falûne: *eyes returning to the moondust silver he inherited from Keldran himself, completely unaware he’s actually his real father* th-that I am very lucky, and very ungrateful for it sir. Thank you for reminding me t-to be grateful.

Father Keldran: *satisfied he’ll keep this reminder for a while* oh lû, my dearest little lamb. Why must you make me punish you like this? *strokes his cheek and kisses his forehead, holding him like a parent would their child, smothering him with love after breaking his body, mind and soul, a constant vicious cycle*

Falûne: *hugs back, trembling in his embrace* b-because I’m evil, a-and I will always be evil, but I’m good so long as I listen to you sir.

Father Keldran: exactly… now go on. I expect dinner at its usual hour.

Falûne: y-yes father superior. *takes the tray as he lets him go and shuffles out of the room whimpering to himself with his tail between his legs*

*that evening*

Falûne: *ate the cold leftovers after the other priests and father Keldran had eaten, just glad he didn’t have to cook for several dozen acolytes tonight. Now quietly crawling into bed after a cold bath, pulling off his boots to let his severely overgrown hooves be free for the night* I don’t understand Hen… *holds up the clay pig figurine* I did everything I was supposed to. I always do my chores, and I studied so very hard, I even learned to fight without breaking the new scarecrow this time… I thought I did everything right… *looks up at the moon* …it’s not fair…

“Come to my Altar dear child… Your new life is waiting.”

[altheneum-library]

||°~ "Are you lost?" ~°||

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lambert's POV:

After Y/N and The One Who Waits reunited together, I had questioned them what their relationship was like with him. Their reply to me was quite interesting as I had assumed they were dad and child at first...some may know it sounds weird but have I even heard an older sibling call their younger sibling 'their young' before? 

and yet...

their relationship... it brought me some memories of my past that I wish to forget, yet I cherish them more than I could imagine. I can never lose such memories of my mother...her smile, her warmth, her cooking...her hugs and lullabies.... ...her voice...

tears stung my eyes as I blinked..I think twice before starting to hurriedly wipe them away as to try and not let anyone notice, I looked around a bit, when I saw nobody noticing at all, I took a sigh of relief. 

I then took a glance up and saw that Y/N was talking with Ratau, seeming like they had asked him a question beforehand because I saw him nodding and heard him agreeing with teaching me something. They both looked at me, I was a bit surprised at first but regained my composure quickly. 

Y/N approached me and put a paw on my shoulder, opening their mouth. "little lamb, I am afraid this is where I take my leave for now. I know I promised to help make a cult with you but I also have my own people to attend to.."  I was shocked to hear those words come out from such a sweet melody of a voice, it brought me sadness and a slight tint of fear in my heart but then, as if they knew how I felt they started speaking once more.

"I know this must be very surprising but I also know that you would do just great under Ratau's guidance. know that if anything happens, my staff shall cast it's protection upon you. I entrust that you are worthy enough to complete my quest of reuniting my family together, bishop or not.." with a smile of determination on my face and an adventurous mind set in my head, I nodded with firminity before looking at Ratau. he can only smile and nod to me, seemingly happy to teach me how to make a cult. though, looking at the crown. TOWW doesn't seem too happy on Y/N leaving, aaawwww he's clingyy..~! how cute~! 

.

.

.

.

.

Y/N had led me and Ratau back to the chambers, walking to their realm's gate. they faced towards us and waved goodbye as we bid our farewells to them as well before they left.

I turned to Ratau as he took a deep breath and looked around a bit, seemingly as if he was trying to hear out for something. I was confused to what he was doing and was about to ask but he raised his paw up, pointer raised as if to quieten me. rude but-

"I have come to the realization that Y/N may have...unintentionally left us deep in the lands of the Old Faith and in grave danger as well... My instructions are to lead you to safety as requested by the bishop of life. let us continue through the woods as escape lies ahead. I will be close by." he told me before relaxing his posture, I was quite shocked to see that he can hear the dangers of the woods but then again, he's probably lived nearby for...great gods know how long- he probably has some experience hearing the creatures and fighting off many of them before, not a big surprised really..

We both prepared ourselves and walked to where safety should be. 

.

..

...

....

.....

......

.......

.........

...........

Okay- not going to lie- it's already been five minutes of walking and it already feels like we've been walking for HOURS- geez when are we gonna reach there!? and Ratau is just rambling over knucklebones and how the card game works, I just listened ad would usually respond. I am interested sure but it's not like I'm gonna play the game much anyways..

after a bit, I start to space out and then, it all went blurred as I remember a small, faint but wonderful memory..

~~ A MEMORY COMES BY... ~~

"Mother! Mother! look what I've brought!" I yelled out to my mother as I ran up to her, a bouquet of camelias in my arms. she looked at me and smiled softly before kneeling down.  "aw, how sweet of you, my little lambert! they look so beautiful...may you put them in the vase so we may bring them to your father today?" she says as I nodded, my ears wiggling and my tail waggling I went and carefully put the camelias in the white vase we always put new flowers in for my father. 

You see, my father died when I was born, so I never really knew him much and neither did I ever knew how much grief it affected mother but what I did know was that I was always so envious of others who had fathers, such as my friends for example. I always longed for a father, or a father figure at least. then maybe I wouldn't be such a mama's boy my whole life.

when my mother had finished our laundry, we both went to father's grave and kneeled down. my mother started to set the vase down, adjusting the camelias. she then started up a conversation with my late father, as a child I never quite got why she was talking to someone who was already dead though as time past each day, I grew to understand that it was a part of grief to try and reassure yourself that they'd hear you. maybe not physically but spiritually. after we prayed to The Old Faith's Bishops, we both stood up and went on our merry way to the village.

the memory was blurry, but I remembered flowers decorating every part of the village I lived in, petals fell from the roof tops from the flower girls and bloom boys making it seem like the sky rained of beautiful rain drops of flora. the sky was a beautiful blue, maybe mixed with a bit of teal..? I don't remember much of what happened nor my surroundings from that day.

~~ ...THEN THE MEMORY GOES, AS ALWAYS ~~

after my memory fades away, I looked at my surroundings, a clearing in a forest. with abundance of flowers and fauna, a river nearby that runs smoothly and the waters were as clear as a mirror. I can see the little swimming school of fish. Ratau took a good look around and sighed of relief. "this is a good place to build your cult, I sense this place belongs to Bishop Y/N, makes sense from the huge amount of forget-me-not flowers here. I heard they loved these." he said to me.

forget-me-nots, huh? interesting!

it had been a bit of looking around peacefully and planning of where to put almost everything in the area with Ratau, I didn't really take track of the time before hearing a cry from help from somewhere. I was alerted and frantically looked around, eyes widening is surprise and readying the staff. 

Ratau readies his own staff before we both heard the cry from earlier, we ran to the source and were just in time to save an innocent soul about to be sacrificed to one of the bishops'. the staff I held was quickly fused with some sort of black substance, my head felt a bit light, confused I looked at the staff.  the wood was now as black as the night sky and there was an eye by the middle, it stared at me expectantly, it seems TOWW is expecting me to use his powers along with Y/N's.

I huffed and went into a stance, seeing that Ratau was busy with the left, I got started to beating the guys on the right.  it was a small fight but it did get a bit out of me, the black substance becomes a crown once more and the staff's wood, back to normal brown color.

I sighed as I see the innocent animal, kneeling down on the ground, I approached and offered a hand before offering them a home in my cult under the two bishops' names. they pondered for a moment before smiling and nodding, I looked up at Ratau for approval. he nodded as well.

"Now, you can teleport them to the indoctrine altar, we shall follow suit." he says.

all I did was give a smile and a small huff before dusting some of the dirt off my fleece as Ratau and I went on our way 

[hannahhook7744]

Stormbringer Crew Incorrect Quotes (Part 1);

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

*After d3*

Lampwick:

Tiger Lily:

Hannah, surrounded by kids 10 and under:

Hannah: what?

Lampwick: uh... Who are they?

Hannah: Some of my crew mates!

Lampwick: but... That's a two year old-

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Harry *lunges at Luke* I'm gonna kill you!

Hannah *jumps in the way to break it up*

Harry *accidentally slices her cheek*

*Room goes silent*

Hannah *tears up*

Harry: Wait no—

Hannah *runs* DAD!

Harry *runs after her* NO! WAIT! I'M SORRY! PLEASE DON'T TELL DAD!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Parker to Cj: damn girl are you a snack because—

Hannah *jumps out of a barrel with a spray bottle full of a murky liquid and sprays Parker with it * NOO! BAD PARKER!

Parker: What the fu—

Hannah *sprays him in the eyes* NO, BAD PARKER! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY SISTER!

Cj *laughing her ass off*

Parker: MY EYES! MY EYES! WHAT THE FUCK IS IN THAT BOTTLE?!

Hannah: That's for me to know and for you to never find out. Now get!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Isaac: Can you recommend a book that'll make me cry?

Hannah: General Mathematics 1st Grade Edition.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Isaac: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you.

Josh: Being a fish.

Isaac: Well, shit.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

John: We need a plan to beat them.

Isaac: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food.

John:

Isaac: Judge me all you want, I get results.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠��🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Luke: Self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath or putting on a lot of make up if you like that, or taking a nice warm nap and stuff like that basically.

Skia: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes.

Hannah: Self care is stealing someone's birthday cake just to eat the frosting.

Skia: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Skia, washing the dishes: Who the fuck used this pan??

Skia: Wait. I the fuck used this pan…

Hannah: It was you the fuck.

Skia: It was I the fuck…

Luke: Who cooks rice in a pan?

Hannah: They the fuck.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Luke *teaching his friends how to cook* This lamb is so undercooked, it's following Mary to school!

Hannah: so he can eat her fucking soul—

Peachy: Hannah no—

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Skia: I've never, ever, ever, ever, ever met someone I believe in as little as you.

Gaston:....

Skia:..

Gaston:...

Skia:...

Gaston:...

Skia:...

Gaston: WAIT, WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Luke: This crab is so undercooked I can still hear it singing 'Under the Sea!

John *starts laughing *

Hannah: Luke, stop! We're literally meeting Ariel in five minutes--

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

*on the Storm Bringer at 3am*

Hannah on the top bunk: Isn't it werid that we pay money go see other human beings?

Luke on the bottom bunk: Are you talking about Prostitution, the movies, or airplane tickets?

Hannah, peaking over the edge of the railing: Glasses, Luke. I was talking about Glasses.

Luke: Well, how was I supposed to know that?

Hannah: Dude. I wear glasses. Your younger sister wears glasses! A lot of our crew members wear glasses! Why wouldn't you know that? And why was prostitution your first thought?!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Treycor: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

John: What if it bites me and it dies?!

Parker: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, John, learn to listen.

Eduardo: What if it bites itself and I die?

Lewis: That’s voodoo.

James: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

John: That’s correlation, not causation.

Eduardo: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Parker, Lewis, Luke, River, and James: That’s kinky.

Treycor: Oh my God. I hate all of you.

Hannah*grimacing* I second that.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground.

River: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.

Luke: She did.

Skia: All three of us where literally there.

Hannah: Shit, I forgot you guys were with me when I did that.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Josh: I actually have a black belt.

Evelyn: In what, karate?

Josh: No, from Gucci.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Darcy, to Noah: My life is in the hands of an idiot!

Noah, motioning to themself and Skia: No no no no no, TWO idiots!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Remi: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Peachy does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff?

Skia: If Peachy were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Peachy jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.

Remi: You jump off a cliff!

Skia: Gladly. Provided Peachy did first.

Peachy, in the background; NO ONE IS JUMPING OFF OF A CLIFF!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Haul: Violence isn't the answer.

Alex: You’re right.

Haul: *sighs in relief*

Alex: Violence is the question.

Haul: What?

Alex, bolting away: And the answer is yes.

Haul, running after them: NO-

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Isaac: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Haul: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much.

Hannah: Oh, you’ve been?

Haul: Once. In Monopoly.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: How petty can you get?

John: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Remi: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why.

Skia: Only if you also don't ask why.

Skia: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick.

Remi:

Skia:

Remi: This one is fine.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Haul: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Hannah: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Everyone, synchronize your watches.

Remi: I don’t know how to do that.

Peachy: I don’t wear a watch.

Skia: Time is a construct.

Hannah, slumps her shoulders: I don't even know why I asked that. I can't even tell time.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: I think Skia was right.

Peachy: I'm surprised they haven't marched in here to say 'I told you so.'

Remi: They wouldn't do that.

Skia: You're right, Peachy. For once in your life, you're 100% right. I would never say that.

Skia: *turns around, the shirt they're wearing says 'Skia Told You So' on the back*

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

John: i went through an entire character arc during quarantine.

John: i became more evil if you’re curious.

Haul: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still!

John: i’m going to get worse on purpose.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Luke: You fuckers don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon.

Hannah, not looking up from their book: Spear.

Luke: BLOCKED!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Darcy: Someone will die.

Noah: Of fun!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Luke: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back.

Hannah: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Josh, standing with their back turned: I’ve been expecting you, Haul.

Haul: How did you do that without turning around?

Josh: ... To be perfectly honest, the first couple of people I did that to were not you.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Fuck.

Haul: We've got to work on your cursing.

Hannah: Why? I'm pretty good at cursing already.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Skia: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.

Peachy: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!?

Skia: No! Four to five seconds!

Peachy: Too late!!!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Welcome, fellow idiots!

Haul: Hello, Hannah!

Hannah: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot!

Haul: You underestimate me.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

John: I'm a reverse necromancer.

Hannah: Isn't that just killing people?

John: Ah, technicality.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis.

Haul: You're like 12 years old.

Hannah: I MIGHT DIE AT 24!

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

*Hannah and Haul skipping stones on lake*

Haul: It’s such a beautiful evening.

Hannah, whispering: Take that you fucking lake.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running?

Luke: Oh, I’m always running.

Luke: The question is from what?

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah, in a beach shirt: So sue me, it's October and I'd like to be on Island Time for a day!

Luke: I have Spotify open right now on my computer, do you want me to blast you? Do you want me to put you on blast? Cuz I've got your history right here on the sidebar,

Luke: Take it Back by Jimmy Buffet, Nautical Wheelers by Jimmy Buffet, Jolly Mon Sing by Jimmy Buffet, Steamer by Jimmy Buffet, trEAT HER LIKE A LADY BY JIMMY BUFFET, MAÑANA BY JIMMY BUFFET, WHEN SALOME PLAYS THE DRUMS BY JAMES BUFFET, HAVANA DAYDREAMIN BY JIMMY BUFFET- What the FUCK happened to you?!

Hannah, laughing: I HAD A CASE OF THE MONDAYS!

Luke: ARE YOU HAUNTED?! ARE YOU FUCKING POSSESSED?!

Luke: YOU USED TO BE MY FRIEND!

Hannah, cry-laughing: ᴵ ᴴᴬᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴬˢᴱ ᴼᶠ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴹᴼᴺᴰᴬʸˢ.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Haul: You and me!!!

Hannah, tearing up: Okay.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: What time is it?

Luke: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out.

Luke: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune on purpose*

Skia: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING.

Luke: It’s 2 am.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?

Skia: You stab me, I stab you, and then when our legs get better, we buy a big-ass house.

Luke: You can stab me too, then we'll have 30 million.

Skia: Good thinking.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: What do you think Skia will do for a distraction?

Luke: They’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

Luke: ... or they could do that.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Peachy: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one!

Remi: Tubular AF!

Luke: Mood to the max!

Hannah, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it.

Skia, just as annoyed: If she breathes, she’s a square.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Luke: 'Prettiest Smile'

Peachy: 'Nicest Personality'

Skia: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Remi: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Hannah: Oh cool, I got 'most forgettable. '

Luke and Skia: Excuse me, what?

Hannah: I got most forgettable? Why—hey, where are you four going? And why do you have your weapons drawn?

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Anyone d-

Skia: Depressed?

Luke: Drained?

Remi: Dumb?

Peachy: Disliked?

Hannah:—done with their work... what is wrong with you people ...

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: Time for plan G.

Skia: Don’t you mean plan B?

Hannah: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.

Peachy: What about plan D?

Hannah: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Remi: What about plan E?

Hannah: I’m hoping not to use it. Luke dies in plan E.

Alex: I like plan E.

Hannah: WE'RE NOT DOING PLAN E, DAMN IT, AND THAT'S FINAL.

Luke: What about plan F?

Treycor: We're not doing Plan F.

Luke: why?

Treycor: Plan F is Get help.

Luke: Oh. Yeah, let's not do that.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Hannah: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*

Skia: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents.

Hannah: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you.

Luke: Actually I did the math, Skia would have $225, not $0.15.

Skia: Fam I’m right here....

Remi: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)

Hannah: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?

Remi: Sorry I only have a dollar.

Hannah: :(

Luke: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Skia would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent

Remi: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice.

Luke: You can buy anything you want with $22,500.

Peachy: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice.

Luke: Apply juice to what.

Treycor: Directly to the forehead.

Skia: Great chat everyone/

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Darcy: I’m going to take you out.

Luke: great, it’s a date!

Darcy: I meant that as a threat.

Luke: See you at five!

[deadlypastelcutieart]

Here's my brand new design for my Fursona! This time I gave her a new name! Special thanks to my bestie @havinganidentitycrisis for giving me some ideas for my newly designed fursona! ^ ^

(Note: This sona is not related to my art sona, Deadly. This character will be used for different art projects, etc.)

Name: Clove Foxglove

Age: 23:

Species: Sheep/Wolf

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Likes:

Fluffy Sweaters

Ribbons and Bows

Lacey clothing

Soft blankets

Fairy tales/Fables

Going on adventures

Baking

Gardening

Art/Illustration

J-fashion

Music boxes

Sewing

Writing stories

Magic and witchcraft

Dislikes:

Loud noises

Being bullied

Being blamed for everything even if it’s small things

Being talked behind her back

People telling her to toughen up in a harsh way

Being called evil

Having her plants ruined

Rude people

Description:

Clove is a very bubbly but shy sheep who isn’t the best at socializing with strangers but will be happy to talk if you're nice to her. She lives in a big cottage in a quiet forest where she spends her days making artworks and cooking some delicious warm foods in her kitchen. 

She loves reading fairy tales and fables that she even gets inspirations for clothes from them and even creates her own stories.However she would often hide her works from strangers due to the fear of being judged and being mocked for. Which is why she would write and draw only in her cottage or in quiet spots in the forest. But she’ll only show her works to her friends that she feels safe in sharing with.

Clove may be the cute and shy type but she’s never afraid of strange and unusual kinds of creatures. Even the horrific ones! And she can even be a bit of a rebel and doesn't like listening to those she finds bossy or threatening.

However if threatened or feeling anger, that triggers her wolf side which causes her to uncontrolably growl and attack others.

Favorite movies: 

Wolf Children

Marcell the Shell with shoes on

Belle

The classic Disney films from the 1930’s to 1950’s (Cinderella, Snow White, Bambi, Sleeping Beauty, Alice in Wonderland, Pinnochio.)

Steven Universe movie

Favourite shows:

MAD (Cartoon Network)

Puella magi madoka magica

Steven Universe

We Bare Bears

Summer Camp Island

Over the Garden Wall

Favourite Games:

Bendy and the ink machine/Bendy and the dark revival

Pokemon series

Night in the woods

Little Misfortune

Animal crossing series

Cult of the lamb

Backstory:

Clove was born as an unusual little lamb. Due to a curse a group of witches casted on her family, their daughter was born as a half wolf, and half sheep. This shocked her parents and that caused the spread of fear and panic over her. Worrying that she might eat and kill them all. But her parents refused to listen to the rumors and fear and keep her as their daughter. Even if she was half-wolf, they’ll do their best to make her happy and feel welcomed into their home.

As Clove grew into a little girl, She began to take interest in the arts and spent lots of time drawing pictures and showing them to her mom and dad. The two were happy that she became so talented and creative. They even gave her a new sketchbook to draw! But not only that her parents even gave her books to read, and with that she started to get interested into fairy tales. Especially the ones that have princesses and have a happy ending! Clove really loves these stories so much that she begain writing her own stories in her sketchbook. And would read them to her parents! They really loved how her daughter has grown!

However, one day when she was taken to school and many of the lambs made fun of her black wool and her strange apperance, Clove felt fits of rage that she never felt before and suddenly scratched one of the students that bullied her with her sharp claws. This caused many of the other lambs to panic and run away from her as the rumor was true! And unfortunately that angered all the sheep in the village and demanded her parents to send her away. But her mom and dad refused to take their daughter away.

However when confronted by the angry villagers that were surrounding her parents home and kept calling her threatening names she grew angrier, and that caused her to transform into a wolf. But without harming anyone she growled and scared away the angry villagers from coming to her house. When she changed back after calming down her parents was shocked at what happend. Clove unfortunately started to freak out and immediately left her house and away from the village. Never to be seen again. For the safety of her parents, and the people of the wooly village.

After Clove ran deep in the woods far away, she discovered an old and abandoned cottage. She decided to make this cottage and the forest her new home and has taken care of it very well. She cleaned inside, gave it some fresh paint, and decorated it to make it her own. To this day, Clove remains in the forest and has gotten really comfortable living there and living peacefully away from anyone else. She became an introvert but is hoping to find some friends somewhere in the forest. 

Inspirations:

The idiom and fable “Wolf in sheep’s clothing”

Cult of the lamb

Pastel goth aesthetic

Animal crossing villagers

Fairytale core

Children’s storybooks

[rosies-emporium]

💔

send 💔 for my muse to talk about an ex

Husbands covered: 1/7

[MOD TALK] Time to begin those Rosie headcanon lore drops! So excited to slowly explore her story and descent into remorseless cannibalism as it unfolded in my head haha <3 Enjoy, be mindful of the tws + of this all being mostly headcanon, and send 💔 if you wanna hear about the next one in the line!

tw: cannibalism, blunt force murder, domestic violence mentions, miscarriage mention, period-typical misogyny, alcohol mentions

-------

𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮

🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 

You know, I wasn't born into high society. If I have anyone to thank for the life I was lucky to lead back in human world, it'd be my dear late father. He worked his fingers to the bone to gift me those opportunities, manners, and the proper education, that he did. And like all hard work with a goal, it paid off. Throughout the years, our shop saw many well-heeled patrons. And when one of them invited me to an upcoming ball, I was more than ready. I met my first husband at that ball and trust me, at the time it felt much like a fairytale! He wasn't even that old, only 'bout seven or eight years my senior, and from a well-respected line. Tall, gruff, no-nonsense, scowlin' type. No love at the first sight with this one, but you can't blame a girl for settling when it came with oh so many perks... We married, of course, and fast. For a while, it wasn't even quite so bad to live alongside him. Sure, he could stand to devote some more time and attention to his wife than to his beloved investments, but for the most part, I was left to my own devices. If anything, I enjoyed the independence when he was out 'n' about throughout days and evenings. Started thinking about children, too. Why, my father was aging fast, and began talkin' more and more about how he'd love to meet his grandkids still...

Sometimes I still wonder if it was only his stocks tanking or also my first unfruitful condition of expecting that changed my husband into this distasteful despot he's become. Oh, naturally, it was the bottle too, he started reaching for it far too easily. And trying to suppress me. Suddenly all my advice was nagging, and my vigor was exasperating. Can you imagine? It bugged me enough already, but divorce, you know it, wasn't really on the table. I'd rather not end up like poor Emma, gossiped and scorned by everybody. So I grit my teeth and persevered. And oh, could I put on a cheerful act! Among our neighbors, no one even suspected that we could be having any trouble...

Until the day he first raised his hand at me.

Say you were in my shoes, would you just take it? I didn't. I couldn't. One's first time is rarely premeditated. It's only with time that you learn to plan and execute. Practice makes perfect, and back then? I didn't just have any practice yet.

Our fireplace poker was heavy duty and too close to my reach. It only took a second to grab it. Twenty hits until he stopped moving took me only as long as I needed for the tears to cease their flowing.

It's amusing in retrospect. I was such a scared, unseasoned lamb back then! I stood there over his body in a pool of blood, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I felt so much, you know. Fear, mainly. Of consequences, of being found out, of myself and what I've done. But even back then... nowhere among those feelings was regret.

I knew I had to get rid of the body. Hiding it wasn't an option, the house would surely have been searched, and going outside with large bags would draw attention. It was pragmatic, really. Did you know that's how most cannibals start? You'd think it's the curiosity, but not really, not in most of cases. Most often it's the hunger... having nothing else to eat. Or, simply, as it was for me... the idea comes up as a method of disposing of evidence.

So I cooked him up. As the stew bubbled, it smelled nice, but oh, he tasted horrible; must've been this booze filling every crevice of his meat. Still, having a bite was... satisfying. Like a moment of victory, a symbolic thing. I fed the rest of him to dogs. Before his disappearance has been noted, there was nothing more to find.

When some time has passed, and his 'missing person' status got changed to a 'likely dead' one, playing a widow in despair wasn't much more toilsome than playing a happy wife had been...

Can you even blame me?

[not-bcring]

Cap turned outwards and the hood of his far too big sweatshirt pulled up over it, Kazuichi was trying his very best to hide from every passerby, his hands gripped tight into the fabric about his face to try and hide as much as he could.

So focused on keeping out of sight, he neglected to realize the very real possibility of bumping into someone on his way back to the dorms. His dorm for once, the mechanic hardly having set foot in it for weeks since he started rooming in Gundham's. Just as he rounded the corner, mere steps from his room, his body collided with another, Kazuichi being knocked to the ground with a yelp of fear pain as his battered body was jarred on impact. Hood falling from his face he found himself looking at one of two people he did not want seeing him like this.

Eyes wide with horror, though one of which was swollen shut, the only thing Kazuichi was able to do was babble in an attempt to save himself. "Don't tell Gundham, h-he told me not to go, but it's my dad I can't just ignore him! I told Gunnie I'm all he's got but he didn't care, a-and it's my fault anyways! I was late getting to the house, and he...he cooked dinner and everything!" What he was neglecting to mention was it was the buses fault he was late, the driver apparently not one that was keen on sticking to schedules...

Body shaking, coiled like a spring ready to pop, awaiting it's next blow, Kaz slowly looked to Kokichi's eyes, only to dart his gaze back to the floor a moment later out of fear for what he'd seen. "...Are you gonna get mad too?" His dad was mad, Gundham would be mad when he found out what happened, and no doubt Kokichi was going to join in. He just couldn't stay out of trouble today...

Stupid.

//:3c

-  ✩   「   @from-across-the-stars​   」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   Kokichi isn’t one for believing in fate.

Fate is a scary concept. It’s the embodiment of helplessness. Which is something Kokichi is already intimately familiar with. It’s the excuse of those who fail to change the hand life has dealt them. Claiming to be unable to stack the deck in their favor, rather than admitting that they don’t know how and have stopped even trying. Part of Kokichi knows that he can’t entirely deny the whims of the universe. With people waking around who are literal lightning rods for luck, there’s no doubt that some people are more favored than others. But luck isn’t fate. Luck is like an ocean, changing and crashing day by day. Fate is like stone. Unwavering as it leads people down its rigid path, like lambs to the slaughter.

So, Kokichi chalks this unexpected meeting up as a bout of good fortune. Considering this is the second time he’s interrupted one of his boyfriends attempting to slink to their room, injured and alone, he figures he must be one of the luckiest bastards in Hope’s Peak. Certain that Kaz must feel like the unluckiest, Kokichi picks himself off the ground, coming to terms with what he’s seeing with far less shock than he had after bumping into Gundham. It’s unnerving sometimes, how easily he can adapt to a reality. How something needs to only happen once for him to expect it again. Some may call it paranoia… Kokichi calls it realism.

He can be realistic. When it matters.

Kazuichi looks like utter Hell, even worse than Gundham had. Although that may have to do with how out of place the injuries look on the mechanic. While Gundham doesn’t deserve the harm that befell him, there’s no denying that he’s better suited for it. The type of person one expects to see in a brawl. If only because he’s the shield standing between danger and people like Kazuichi. Kokichi wouldn’t call Kaz weak. He deserves more respect than that. But he’s… different. Kazuichi breaks without prompting. Cowers in plain sight instead of waiting for the click of a lock. It’s sad embarrassing and dangerous ( this place is not kind to those viewed as weak ) and Kokichi can’t let it happen. He owes Kaz more than that.

Spilling his guts far too loudly for Kokichi’s comfort— even if it’s preferable to the pulling teeth that is getting information out of some other people —Kazuichi needs to get out of sight and fast. Somewhere his wounds can be tended to and anything he needs to say can go unheard by those who don’t need to know. Fighting back the bristling of his body when Kaz asks if he’s upset, Kokichi realizes that his brow is creased. Expression not the calm neutral he was able to don with Gundham. But a quiet, faintly-shown frustration. Not close to the level of rage boiling within him, but still far too much emotion for the circumstance. Especially when dealing with a coiled spring like Kazuichi.

❝  I’m not mad.  ❞  Not at YOU. Shoving down the spike of frustration at his sloppiness, expression falls into a more comfortable doe-eyed look. A blank mask, Kokichi shuffles it on like a well-loved outfit. Grabbing onto Kazuichi’s hand, he pulls the mechanic onto his feet, not letting go even when Kaz is standing. As if afraid that he’s going to run away.  ❝  C��mon, Pinky... Follow me.  ❞  It’s not an invitation, it’s an order. Kazuichi’s room might be closer, but it’s not the right place for this. Kaz can’t retreat to a place he hasn’t been in for weeks. That’d be hiding away. Surrendering to the shittiness of the situation. So, Kokichi starts leading him somewhere else, trying to keep his steps from becoming too hurried despite his fear impatience. 

Kaz can’t go to their Gundham’s room... Can’t retreat to his own... He needs to go to a safer place. 

Somewhere he’s never been, free from expectations or lingering memories that could further sully his mood. Needs to be taken to a room that MEANS something. Where not just anyone is allowed to tread. Where only a few have broken. Where the click of the lock means no more judgement. No more risk. No more pain, aside from what they still need to embrace and eventually expel. Kokichi doesn’t know if Kazuichi will fully understand the significance of what he says next, but hopes that even if he doesn’t right away, with time... it’ll become clear. 

❝  We’re going to my room.  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

before my morning meditation

the alarm went off at seven but I didn't want to get up yet

so I set the alarm for another thirty minutes

knowing I was just going to lay there and think

but thinking cozy and warm in bed is never a hardship

I imagined grounding my heart in the ground and sky

there's a really good chance I'll see my ex in-laws today

and it's been a minute since I've been around them

his mother is only mean when she writes

but publicly she seems more like a lamb

I really liked and admired her until I knew how she thought

and she fights stupid and nasty just like her son

her patterns of shame and judgement so much like

my own mother that when she turned it on me

and when he turned it on me I thought I was

listening to an ancient channeling of my childhood

but she'll be fraudulent and sweet and everything will be fine

I'll keep my expression neutral to start and my energy authentic

now his father is another story and that's where I'm nervous

he's got the unjustified boldness of most old white guys

and he's not afraid to say something stupid and mean

he's also deaf so if my wit gets involved

I'm going to have to say whatever I need to really loud

I really don't want to bring any bad vibes to the place

where my children are playing sports but lately

I haven't been able to stay silent when someone is stupid

and I don't really want to change that because I've noticed

when I make things uncomfortable back

people realize that I'm not fun to be dumb around

and I kind of like that because I've suffered silently

for long enough and it's kind of fun changing it up

the trim I gave myself isn't so bad now that I look at it

and now that I've thought about the possible dynamics

and accepted the consequences if things messy

that knot in the pit of my stomach feels unraveled

it will likely be fine and everyone will do their best

but my new energy still needs to be explored a bit

I'm not a ghost but a new spirited spirit embodying

plus I can also communicate silently with my expression

I'm so used to keeping my face composed that I forgot

what a canvas I have to show people how I feel

I used to fear my authenticity so much

I adapted to think of everyone else's comfort first

and stopped liking to go places because of it

because I was never comfortable in their comfort

realizing that now helps me see that I no longer

want to find a way to miss out on this game

just because I'm going to be around people

that drag their rugs around to sweep things under them

if they don't like me that's totally fine because

I wasn't exactly put on this earth to be likable

plus everything is outside so even if I do have to get snarky

and say it loud the wind and the sky will be there

don't go looking for a fight but square up if one presents itself

okay I think I've hyped myself up with enough temperance

time to shower and get myself ready to wrangle

all the little creatures who are going to want

to sleep in on a Saturday instead of getting up to play

but once they get there they'll be happy and raring to go

I'm trying to remember that the only reason I stopped

liking my life was because I was being told constantly

that I was doing everything wrong by someone

who won't even put groceries away or pick up his own trash

who can't cook at nearly forty or be trusted to do things

with any sense of competency or consistent thought

even grocery shopping and basic skills are lacking

it was all a projection that built itself over time on top of me

and now that projection is gone and reality makes sense again

and I don't have to pretend to be part of some definition

of a perfect family when the system is rotten and fake

it's all going to be just fine and I have every right

to be exactly me however that ends up presenting itself

and if someone else has a problem with that

I guess they need to go find a better mirror

these feelings are all rising to the surface to be seen

to show me the difference between how I used to feel

and where I am currently in this silly game of life

if the world is a stage I'm going to be a character to remember

and it might just start today that I make memories

and I'm going to be okay with whatever performance

my heart and spirit end up playing out

but if it gets too wild I'll give myself notes

[jdgo51]

When You Find Yourself in Yet Another Dark Valley

Today's inspiration comes from:

The Book of Common Courage

by K.J. Ramsey

"Right now, a rose and cedar candle is crackling by my side, conjuring up memories of charcoal fires by the beaches of the Michigan lakes of my childhood. It’s the scent of Sunday evening church services all summer, sitting lakeside singing hymns and reciting Scripture. The childlike trust of those summers feels a million miles away, stuck here in yet another dark valley of suffering.

This scent swirls past my story taking me to another seashore, under the peach canopy of dawn, where Jesus sits by a charcoal fire with Peter, cooking him breakfast, feeding him with the love he had just denied knowing. (John 21)

Maybe it’s the candle. Or maybe it’s the echo of Peter’s denial that rang from my lips so recently in my despair. But I am in this story. I am on this beach.

Where do we go when our hearts have crumbled under the weight of fear’s pressure?

On the night that Jesus was betrayed, while the Chief Priest treated Him with contempt, Peter stood outside warming himself over a charcoal fire. (John 18) Three times, when asked if he knew Jesus, Peter disowned his Friend. On a cold, dark night, with all of his hopes of revolution for his people falling to ash, Peter’s fear overshadowed his friendship.

The weight of hope can break us. But Jesus was more than Peter knew. And having defeated death, Jesus came to find Peter at the sea, back in the place their friendship was first forged.

We do not know what was in Peter’s heart, but I can imagine. Shame. Confusion. The start of hoping again.

Peter and his friends are on the water. They’ve fished all night and come up with nothing. And a man on the shore calls out to throw their net onto the other side of their boat. And suddenly, the net is so full of fish it’s overflowing. Just like before. Just like the beginning of being with Jesus. (Luke 5)

In such abundance, they recognize Jesus for who He is. And Peter dives into the water, adamant to get to his Friend as fast as possible. His denial clearly wasn’t the whole truth of what lived in his body and heart.

And on the beach, Jesus has started a charcoal fire (John 21:9), just like the one Peter stood over in shame. And instead of asking why he denied Him, Jesus cooks Peter and the other disciples a meal.

Jesus shows us the way out of shame into strength is sustenance. Plain and simple. Are you ashamed? Maybe what you most need is someone to cook you a meal.

Anthrakian — this Greek word for charcoal fire is only used here and at Peter’s denial. (John 18:18) The scent had to bring his lowest moment back to the surface. But this time, Jesus extends a friendship that no fear could extinguish.

And having fed His friends breakfast, Jesus walks with Peter on the beach and asks him three times:

“Do you love Me?”

Each denial is gathered up in the curl of this question. Each answer, a restoration.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

And with each yes to love, Jesus gives Peter a purpose.

Feed My lambs. Shepherd My sheep. Feed My sheep.

Jesus shows us the way out of shame into strength is sustenance.

Back at my desk, this candle still burns. In these long months, I’ve been brought back to the same places of angst and sickness as years past. I’ve stared at the canyon walls, cold and afraid that my Shepherd won’t find me and bring me through. There have been moments I’ve wanted to deny knowing Jesus at all. There have been days that my fear has overshadowed my friendship with Christ. And, He has still come back to find me.

And in the company of Peter, I know what can set the broken heart back to strength.

Repetition can bring restoration.

Finding ourselves in yet another dark valley doesn’t have to mean we are stuck. It can mean we are precisely in the spot where the Shepherd is coming to find us again.

And just like the disciples on the water, Christ will not only return us to the scent of our shame but to the sight of abundance. And we will be fed. Fed more than enough. And so restored, we will reach toward others with the same kindness we have received.

Feed My sheep.

We’ll become people who show each other the way out of shame. Sustenance. Sight. Solidarity.

Jesus, our Messiah, the Son of the Living God, You who gave Simon a better name than the shame that was coming in denying knowing You as he stood in the dark, warming himself by the flames: tell us who we are. Anoint us with a name we can’t disown on our worst nights. Because when we are called by Your Voice, we are confirmed in a love so strong no trauma or shame can revoke that we belong in Your communion of saints, the church whose gates even hell cannot break. Amen."

— from The Book of Common Courage, p. 171

Written for Devotionals Daily by K. J. Ramsey, author of The Book of Common Courage.

[yanderemommabean]

Does Hannibal Lector count as a slasher? Because this is an intense fantasy, momma.

Can't help but wonder how he would be with a darling he initially kidnapped for food. Being knocked out only to wake up naked with my legs tied together, wrists tied, laying on a literal baking tray like a turkey with an apple shoved in my mouth as he stands nearby sharpening his knives and warming the oven. Letting out terrified noises as he realizes I'm awake and walks over slowly, panicking even more as he rubs cooking oil over me only to become rather fascinated and interested in my soft pussy, slowly setting down his basting tools and talking to me even though I can't respond.

"Such a lovely little lamb. It is a shame to know you won't be around much longer..."

Crying in confusion and fear as he slowly starts to rub and finger me, his pupils blown wide as he hums and ads another finger, watching my legs shake and jolt from the sensation even though I'm horrified and crying.

"I don't typically play with my food..."

He stares for a moment before suddenly latching his mouth onto my pussy, licking and sucking like a feral animal, growling lowly in his chest as he shoves his tongue in me, slurping and smacking his lips. Me crying out loudly from the stimulation even with the apple gagging me as I cum several times before he pulls away, seeming even more feral, clearly not interested in eating me anymore now that he's harder than stone.

Fishing out his cock and shoving it in me, pulling the apple from my mouth so he can hear me scream as he pounds into me and huffs, praising me and telling me what an adorable lamb I am. Such a poor thing getting caught by a lion that seeks to devour me. Me whining and drooling with my eyes rolled back in my skull, forced to cum again and again as I feel him fill me up with his cock and cum, fucking it deeper into me as he chuckles.

"Didn't think I was going to be putting stuffing in you..."

Me sobbing from over stimulation and fear before he finally has his fill, stepping back for a moment to watch his cum slowly drip out of my pussy as I mewl and whine, too fucked out to care. Not noticing how he licks his lips at the sight, stunned as he unties my binds, picking up my spent body and carrying me to a bathtub, not minding as he gets cooking oil on his shirt and arms. Me completely unable to move due to the intense fucking as he gently washes the oil off and scrubs with soap, being oh so soft now that I was off the baking tray and too exhausted to do anything. Hearing him talk softly to me and threaten me with cooking me if I misbehave even though he would never do that now that he's become hooked on me.

"How could I eat a sweet lamb like you? No, you, my delicious darling, will be staying here with me. Behave, or I may have to change my mind about letting you live."

Him using his thumb to rub against my lips, slowly sliding his finger into my mouth as I deliriously blink, slowly beginning to pass out from my lost energy. Hearing him talk to himself softly all while he makes sure I am nice and clean as he dries me off, carrying me to his bed and combing my hair before laying me down. Mostly unconscious as I feel his lips press over mine, tongue sliding in to claim my mouth before he pulls away, tucking me in sweetly.

"Don't worry, my lamb, this lion isn't going to eat you."

Passing out as he goes back to the kitchen and prepares some other unfortunate soul for his meal now that he has another mouth to feed and care for. Treating me like his little wife and fucking me senseless like a good husband, only chuckling when anyone comments on the 'lamb' nickname, like an inside joke only you two know. Behaving in fear not knowing he refused to kill me now, protecting me as fiercely as a lion would from any harm...

Hannibal would take such good care of you. Head to toe would be cleaned, trimmed, and exfoliated. You’ll be forced to let him care for you, having to obey his every order under the threat of becoming the next meal.

His fingers would always be toying with you in one way or another. Playing with your lip, feeling the pitter of your heart as he holds your throat, raking through your hair as he holds you, no matter what he always has his hold on you.

You’re the most divine treat he could’ve asked for. Your taste is one that has to be savored, truly appreciated and understood. His tongue has to know every crevice of you, every inch of your skin, nothing is off limits. It’s rather cute how shy you become when he gets like this, embarrassed and modest, trying to hide yourself as if he couldn’t simply truss you up like a turkey and gorge himself.

“A little lamb hiding from the hungry lion…how precious. You can never escape me, or my hunger, love”.

He’ll slowly pump his fingers inside of you, stretching and scissoring them while your hips jut up and beg for him to go deeper. The pads of his fingers rub tightly against your walls and cause your toes to curl, your fingers scrambling for purchase as he continues to abuse those nerves. Drool will be dripping down your chin after the first few orgasms, muscles practically melted and turned to liquid as you’re splayed out on the bed and inviting him for a special taste.

His cock teases your entrance, catching on your hole and sending little shocks up your spine. Your gut is warm, coiling and tightening once again as another orgasm is built up and reaching its peak. The stretch of his cock makes your body heat up even more, every slap of his skin against yours only heightens the sensations Hannibal was giving you. You can hardly hear his taunting words and praise as he buries himself to the hilt with every thrust, humping into you while his teeth sink into your shoulder.

He’ll lift your legs to rest on his shoulder, hammering deeper into you, balls slapping against your ass with each hard pump of his cock. It reaches so deep, hitting every spot that makes you go near brain dead with bliss, and soon your sobbing out and pleading as an orgasm is once again forced from your body and making your nails dig into his skin.

Hannibal only snarls with a smile, stilling his hips as he pumps you full of his cum, cock twitching inside of your heavenly walls and painting them white. Every breath of relief is drowned out as he watches his seed drip from your cute, abused little hole.

“Catch your breath my little lamb” he’ll reassure, hands rubbing up and down your shaking, sweat covered calves “I’ll clean you up…just allow me to indulge in a second helping. I must say I’ve worked up such an appetite”.

He’ll only chuckle deeply at your whimpers as his tongue gets to work cleaning you out, fingers holding you open and allowing his tongue to reach the deepest parts of you. Suckling, nibbling, and slurping up the mess of your juices while commenting about how delicious you taste.

Then of course there’s the clean up. You’ll practically have a fever with how intense things become, so he doesn’t mind cleaning you up and cooling you down. If anything he seems to love it, having a helpless little lamb needing his care and his protection. He’ll wash you up and remind you of just how horrifying he can be when he casually leaves out bloodied utensils, just to subtly remind you he could hurt you at any given moment.

Not that he wants too, but a little fear never hurt to keep you in check.

“Rest up. I have dinner marinating and soon it’ll be cooked to perfection. I’m excited to see how you like the wine I chose to go with it”.

(-Mommabean, I hope my smut is alright ^_^;; please comment!)

[inviouswriting]

Family with you

Simeon x fem!reader

Some light smuts mixed in, but mostly fluff. Nothing graphic but enough to be cut.

If mc was already a mother when arriving to Devildom with their child. Needed something for myself too. 

TW: for reasoning behind the father figure not in as a result of them leaving, or uninterested. Abandoning mc. 

When you had first arrived at Devildom, the others were surprised to the child with you. Looking no older than between five to seven and hiding behind you. Lucifer was first to be taken aback by this exchange, and Diavolo immediately is dropping down to say hello.

Things progressed as they normally did afterwards. You had a stronger backbone when it came to threats and reminded the demons that you’ll have their horns and wings if anything happened to your child. 

You are single, and comforted your child as best as you can in a world full of demons. Diavolo set up a special way for your child to be cared for while you attended RAD. Spending time with Barbatos, to learn from him rather than be around all the chaos.

When you met Simeon, it was like something clicked between you two. Barbatos had brought your child to you at the end of the day, and Simeon is already enamored by them. His eyes shined at seeing them, and you feel trusting of the angel. Luke sees a potential friend, close in age, able to relax, though he felt more like an older brother figure. 

“Why not visit us a little more?” Simeon offers, and you take him up on the offer for any peace and quiet from House of Lamentations. A steady relationship bloomed between you and Simeon. Alot of the time spent guiding both Luke and your child in the right directions.

When Simeon asked how your child came to be, you felt your face hot at mentioning everything prior to Devildom, whether a joyful one or a unpleasant. Your child was someone you never regretted, even out of wedlock. 

Simeon understood the question he asked was personal, and remembered how it sounded from an angel.

“I mean genuinely, I am not asking you or putting you under a confessional. I am just curious, do you have anyone in your life... in the human world?” You see the dusting of pink on his face, and it clicks for you.

“No, they’re not in the picture anymore.” At your words Simeon takes your hands into his own, realizing he has a full chance. 

“Would you go on some dates with me then?” You are surprised at this, and want to say yes, but your eyes drift to your child playing a game with Luke. 

“I’d love to, but who would watch them?” You haven’t quite trusted the brothers, the closest one you feel you could is Beelzebub, and Asmodeus. 

“I think Barbatos can, he does enjoy both Luke and your child. I’m sure it would be fine to escape for an evening.” He offers solutions, and you agree to a date.  Agreeing was easier than the actual planning.

The night arrived, and you are dressed nicer than you normally are. Asmodeus being supportive and helped with an outfit that accents a Ristorante Six date. Simeon took care of arranging Luke and your child to be with Barbatos to learn how to cook some things together.

All that was needed was you, so Simeon met you at the restaurant. When he first saw you, he thought you really are an angel in disguise. Once inside, you talk about your life prior to Devildom, him learning more about the things you’ve gone through to raise this child, the hardships you’ve faced and he feels more protective of the idea of being with you.

Simeon walked with you for hours afterwards, you went back to House of Lamentations to drop off food you had leftovers from to Beelzebub. Promising him at least a dessert. The rest of the evening was spent walking through the city portion with Simeon. Getting to know him, his ranking as an angel, how he is raising Luke almost as a child of his own.

“More like grandson.” He amuses aloud, and you gently poke his sides. A moment is stilled between you and he takes his first kiss with you overlooking the Devildom.

After that first date, many more were had, till you are sure you are inseparable to Simeon as much as your child is so fond of Luke. 

When you became so entangled in your angels life and him in yours. You find yourself yearning for the love you two have made. Seeing him fall head over heels with your child, you laugh at moments when he is tender and gentle teaching them different ways. 

There have been only a few fights, only when it came to how you chose to raise your child. A little more firmness than Simeon letting Luke have free reign to learn from his own mistakes. You still had a role as a mother, and reminded Simeon that it works for him, but not for you in some aspects. You reminded your child of boundaries whenever Luke showed discomfort in sharing something.

After an evening of sharing insecurities with Simeon, explaining how hard it has been being alone. He runs his hands through your hair to remind you, you are not alone anymore. You question if he finds you attractive, the hour late, and you both knew Luke and your child sound asleep.

Simeon expresses his desires in you, even when you shyly bared yourself to him, he graciously kissed any marks left on your body from carrying those years ago. Didn’t care of your breasts were a little uneven, or what others have said as a “mom” body. Whether you were skinny or you never lost the weight, belly that sagged or didn’t look right to yourself.

“This is the result of the miracle you have brought into the world. And you are far more beautiful than you realize.” Simeon looks over every spot of you, blue eyes curious to the scars he may see, whether you had a rough pregnancy, or the scars left to save you both. He leaves no spot unkissed, letting you feel truly seen and loved more than the first time a man took interest only to leave later on.

Simeon sees the faint hurt in your eyes when it is reflected after kissing a spot that flared a memory. He replaces that memory with his own touch, reminding you that he loves you even as he loves you till you are clutching his bedsheets or pillows.

In the morning you feel wonderful, renewed and shy as those dark arms are wound around you possessively. Simeon not wanting to let go of you yet, your eyes being greeted to his face first thing, blue eyes meeting yours. 

You tease each other, tease long enough that Simeon coaxes you into a softer session with him in the shower together. Where he holds you up against the wall and any of those smut novels never compared to the things an angel has done to you.

When you broke the news to both Luke and your child about your relationship, Luke is surprised and almost unsure, questioning Simeon about whether he wants to risk his job as an angel. Simeon refutes this with.

“There are no risks involved, I’m in love.” You realize he could lose his wings.. you don’t want to make him choose. Your child on the other hand looks at Simeon with love in them. That an angel could literally be their father.

“Does this mean you’ll get married?” The thought crosses your mind with Simeon glancing to you, perhaps hopeful of your thoughts on the idea.

“It might mean that, if he wants to be.” You feel a squeeze in your hand from Simeon, and you catch his gaze. He is successful in the things he does, and he shines unique as an angel.

“I would love that. To have a family with you. Perhaps once we are in the human world?” Simeon asks, and you nod to make that a goal. 

The path to marriage was longer, going through so much, that the evening when Simeon actually asks you to marry him, you thought he was joking. It was on his birthday, and you had spent the day with him. Luke and your child set up a pleasant surprise for you both, getting Barbatos and Diavolo in on this unique exchange.

“Of course!” You are happy to no end and Simeon is relieved. The ceremony is held on the spot, as a more private exchange. The brothers agreed once you had chosen Simeon solely.

It isn’t until you were given a honeymoon to Diavolo’s private island that the need for your angel was truly awakened. Spending almost every day with him and night finding out just how much Simeon wanted you more than you realized. You wondered how much he held back from the first time you were together. 

Soon you settle into a routine with the new life with Simeon. That it surprised you when you found out you are pregnant again. Fear rises in you, as this was the scenario you had the first time. Perfectly happy, then it came crashing down when the other half didn’t want to be involved.

So you hide it from Simeon, for now. You wanted to wait before you told him, to see if your body could handle another. It isn’t until you are lying down fatigued that Simeon catches on. His fingers are tender as they touch your stomach to sense life, giving you a firm stare for not telling him sooner.

“My love, how long have you known?” He questions, he is already pressing his face to say hi to the life forming. 

“Only a few weeks... I wanted to be sure that this one will stay.” Simeon looks up smiling, the intensity in his eyes fades.

“My lamb... how could you keep this wonderful secret from me.” Your hands card through dark brown hair, bright blue eyes peek up more framed by dark skin. He is over the moon and nuzzles his face into your belly. 

You smile and feel a little guilty he found out this way. You wanted to tell him, and see him full of joy instead of concern. Though his happy expression keeps you from spoiling him too much. You learn him and his ways of showing love, but this side of him. 

You are amazed at how much he dotes and loves you. Seeing the blush on his face realizing all those sleepless nights resulted in a life that is of you and him. That this brings you two closer than ever.

When Simeon looks up he sees your eyes brimming with tears and he freaks wondering if he did something wrong.

“Please don’t leave me...” You plead him, and he remembers that years ago that a child is the reason your first doesn’t have a father. Whether by them leaving, vanishing, or expressing unwanted. He sees the pain return to your eyes, the wound that he had spent so many times trying to mend to heal your heart.

Simeon moves to sit with you and cups your face into his hands as he presses loving kiss after kiss.

“Never will leave you. Not now, not ever.” You tremble in sobs at the shock still going through you of the fear settling in, that it “could” happen. He could grow tired, just like before. When things got tough and they just left. 

Simeon sees the hurt still, and it takes coaxing from him to get you to curl up into his side. His colder hands pressed to your forehead as a nausea wave hits you and you let go of all your fears and tell him you are afraid he will leave you.

He assures you, he is there permanently, he won’t leave, not unless you chase him out yourself. And that breaks you of your spell, the fear of pushing a literal angel away overwhelms you and you raise up to kiss him like you haven’t before.

You still had hours before Luke and your child would be home, you spend the next few hours entangled together. You and Simeon on the floor of the house you call home. His hands going over every speck of you, and kissing away your worries. He is surprised when you take initiative to ride him, and your love making with the angel is truly felt through every nerve that you hold onto each other tight.

When you woke up much later, Simeon is next to you in the bed you share, just watching your face serenely. Foreheads pressed together.

“What time is it?” You question him, and start to raise to look at a clock and Simeon guides you to lie down.

“Almost time to make dinner. We still have time before they’re back. Let me spend this time with you?” You look at him and lay your head back down next to his. He seeks out your left hand to rub at your wedding band, while his other hand presses over your belly. He’s more loving here than what he did hours ago, touches you with such tenderness that you feel your heart thudding in your chest.

You indulge Simeon as he presses loving kisses and you both discuss the possible baby names. Simeon ever grateful you choose to be with him and love him.

[non-un-topo]

College, Car Seats, and Creamy Pasta (ficlet)

(This title, idk.) So I’ve been having feelings lately about the old guard with babies in modern aus, so here’s an experimental, kind of self-indulgent ficlet filled with extreme amounts of softness and bébé feels <3

_______________________________

There’s an infamous story all the way back from college that Joe loves to share which involves Andy drunkenly rolling her ankle on a beach and Joe having to carry her home--though, she could have walked, but Joe demanded to carry her--and fashioning an ice pack out of the only things he could find in his and Nicky’s tiny, decrepit apartment: A condom, and some ice from a small McDonald’s sprite (their freezer was broken when they moved in).

He lives to tell that story every chance he gets. Especially now, as he reaches into Andy and Quỳnh’s (much bigger and much colder) freezer nearly fifteen years later to retrieve a not-homemade ice pack and wrap it in a clean dishtowel for Andy’s poor crotch.

She’s lounging on the couch, even though she’s proven that she can walk, but Joe doesn’t mind, as she reaches back for the ice pack and shoots him a sly smile that says, Yeah, I know exactly which story you’re thinking about. He bats his eyelashes innocently back.

It’s a balmy Friday evening and Quỳnh’s still at work, though likely on her way home, so Joe has taken the liberty of cooking dinner. Andy begged to order a pizza, but Joe was not having it. And he thought himself to be the lax one of the bunch. If Nicky were in the kitchen at the time, it would have been anarchy.

“Thanks, Joe,” Andy says, as she settles into a more comfortable position on the couch with her ice pack, sighing. He adjusts the pillows at her back, which causes her to snort and slap his hand away.

“I’m not dying.”

Joe sniffs. “Yeah, coulda fooled me. How much did that baby weigh again?”

Andy laughs out a quiet, fuck off. “Nine pounds, eight ounces,” she says, quick as a whip.

“God…”

The baby, the reason for Joe and Nicky’s visit to Andy and Quỳnh’s apartment, is fairly chunky, sure, but he looks awfully tiny and pink, especially when he’s wearing his little hat. The hat with little lamb ears that Nicky painstakingly knit for him months ago, when he was barely more than a bump, that rarely leaves his soft little head. Nicky hadn’t even known how to knit at the time.

The baby’s name is Lykon, after a childhood friend of Andy and Quỳnh. Lykon was born at 4:26 AM on Monday. It’s Friday evening. Joe and Nicky have not left the apartment since Andy and Quỳnh brought him home.

And neither Andy nor Quỳnh have physically kicked them out, so Joe is staying right here.

Nicky had disappeared a few minutes ago to go change the baby while Andy napped, but he reappears then, slinking into the living room with Lykon held against his shoulder--he’s so little in Nicky’s hands, they almost swallow him--and Joe smiles at his husband in greeting before doing a double-take.

“Babe,” Joe says, and Andy cranes her neck to try and see Nicky over the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

Nicky continues his journey across the living room floor--lunges, he’s doing lunges. Deep ones that make Joe’s eyebrows jump up in appreciation.

Nicky releases a finger from his gentle grip on the baby’s head and presses it to his lips. “Shush.”

“You trying to get your ass workout in while carrying my son? Really?” Andy asks.

Nicky’s response is whispered so softly, Joe can hardly hear him. “This is the only way I can get him to sleep.”

“Put him in the car seat,” Andy says, like it’s the most simple solution in the world.

“He likes it,” Nicky argues, still whispering.

Andy only shrugs. “Okay, but if he spits up on you…”

And right on cue, Joe hears a tiny gurgle, and there’s baby puke sliding down Nicky’s back.

Andy doesn’t say, told you so, but she doesn’t need to. Her smug grin is enough. With a poorly hidden pout, Nicky reluctantly hands the baby, who is now crying quiet little wobbly squeals, to Andy.

“You know,” Andy says, “you guys don’t have to stay. You have other commitments, I know.”

It’s the first time since Lykon’s birth that she’s said something like that, and Joe is only moderately surprised to feel a sudden onslaught of tears in his eyes.

“Or not,” she says, quickly. “We really appreciate your help, boys, it’s just… We don’t want to keep you.”

“Andy, shut up.”

She laughs, loud and open-mouthed. “Okay, Joe, okay. I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” Nicky says. Then he leans over the couch to peer into Lykon’s squishy little face. “And we especially love you.”

His voice changes when he talks to the baby. While Joe can’t control the way his voice raises several octaves and the way he coos gibberish, Nicky’s voice softens and hushes to something so comfortable, barely audible. It’s the way he would talk to a fussy toddler, Joe thinks, given the opportunity. He would level his eyes with them and speak to them like a person equal to him, providing the safest and most non-judgemental space for them.

Joe thinks. He hasn’t had many opportunities to see his husband speak with toddlers.

“I would be worried about you guys kidnapping him,” Andy says, “but I think it only counts as kidnapping if you leave the apartment.”

Joe snorts, and then he hears the water boiling over on the stove, so he dashes.

When Joe met Andy and Quỳnh, he had been a wide-eyed twenty-year-old, freshly out of the closet and already hopelessly in love. Well, that hasn’t changed, which always delights him to realize, after all these years. It was the love of his young life--Nicky, of course--who introduced him. Andy and Nicky were family friends, more like siblings, really, and of course Andy and Quỳnh had been together since the dawn of time. It took Joe no time at all to find a family in the four of them, inseparable as they all were.

Andy and Quỳnh had actually surprised him when they started talking about kids. That unexpected and world-changing conversation had been the beginning of a long and at times heartbreaking four years, before they finally got their donor, then suffered through a little over a year of IVF. They had almost given up, Joe remembers, between the frustration and the arguments and doctors telling Andy her eggs were too old. But, there he was, at the end of the journey, coming into the world flipping off everyone who said they couldn’t do it: Baby Lykon, the little warrior.

Joe remembers all of it vividly. The phonecall when they told him and Nicky they were pregnant, the panic to help them find a bigger apartment, the indulgent shopping trips, though Andy tried to keep a cap on those, and the weight and warmth of the baby in Joe’s arms the very first time he held him, barely thirty minutes after he’d been born.

Joe had sobbed, of course (something Andy and Quỳnh had anticipated so strongly they bet money on how long he cried for), and he looked into the baby’s big brown eyes and promised him the world.

They had talked about kids. Of course, they had. He and Nicky. But life was busy, and in the last five years between Joe finishing his dissertation and Nicky’s mother getting sick, the subject of kids just hadn’t come up. Besides, Joe thinks now, he’s only thirty-three.

Quỳnh comes home as he’s dishing up dinner for everyone--a creamy, cheesy pasta, because it’s the best comfort food--and her eyes brim with tears when she gets to hold Lykon again. She hasn’t been able to get a lot of time off work, even after becoming a new parent, which Joe thinks is frankly outrageous, but the work she does as a crisis counsellor is of course monumentally important.

They huddle around the couch to eat dinner, but Nicky pulls up one of the rickety chairs from the kitchen table and sits next to the baby, who is snoozing in his car seat on top of the coffee table. Joe doesn’t know how he does it, but Nicky manages to eat his dinner, drink enough water, and hold a conversation while keeping Lykon’s car seat rocking gently so he doesn’t wake up and scream.

Joe watches him as he chews his pasta mindfully and leans close to peer into the car seat. Beautiful. He’s always so beautiful, especially now. The way he looks at Lykon--their nephew, Joe realizes, elated--makes Joe’s head spin off his shoulders. He feels like he’s twenty.

“Crazy how tiny he is,” says Quỳnh, her voice soft and reverent. She already sounds so much like a parent. Joe’s eyes are still on his husband, so he sees how brightly Nicky smiles at that.

Andy makes an indignant noise. “Shut the fuck up.”

Quỳnh laughs, though she tries with obvious effort to keep quiet. She pulls Andy closer, her arm draped over her shoulder, and presses three kisses to her cheek. Then Quỳnh catches Joe’s eye and winks.

Andy shovels another forkful of pasta into her mouth and moans as she chews. With a full mouth, she says, “Joe, this is perfect. Please, boys, never leave.”

Joe shrugs bashfully, pretending to be shy. “It’s Nicky’s recipe.”

“What did you use,” Quỳnh asks.

Joe hums. He juts his chin to the kitchenette. “Your parmesan, mostly, and that fancy milk.”

“What fancy milk,” Andy asks, absolutely stuffing her face.

“Y’know.” Joe waves a hand. Chews, swallows. “The milk in the fancy bag, from the fridge.”

Andy and Quỳnh both stop eating, their eyes bugging out. Quỳnh slaps a hand over her mouth, poorly hiding a laugh and clearly choking a little, and Andy looks… Oh, Andy looks furious. Her face is red.

“J-” She forcefully lowers her voice, shooting a fearful glance at the baby. “Joe,” she whispers through her teeth. “Did you use my fucking breast milk?”

“Dio.” Nicky sticks his fork back into his dish.

“Oh,” Joe says, like an idiot. “Um.”

Andy’s cheeks puff out and somehow her face turns an even darker shade of red.

“I pumped…” she whispers, low and lethal, slow. “...For so… long…”

“There’s more in the fridge, babe,” Quỳnh says, and Joe fears for her life for a hot second. Then she brings her hand out to hover over Andy’s chest. “And it’s not like the tap is running dry, or whatever.”

“So I’m a milk bag.”

“A badass, sexy milk bag who--oh, who is murdering me with her eyes right now.” Quỳnh turns on Joe, then, scooping another forkful of breast-milk-pasta into her mouth and jabbing the fork in his direction. “You’re gonna be up all night paying my wife back for this, genius. See how skilfully you can wipe meconium from his bum.”

Joe only nods in shame. Fair enough.

Lykon signals that he’s awake, then, with a series of soft little snorty grunts that devolve very quickly into shrieking, wobbly sobs. Nicky launches into action with a speed that rivals the pitcrews at NASCAR. He lifts him from the car seat with such gentleness and oh, Joe’s heart breaks to see the baby’s little lips trembling as he cries, the way his little feet kick out against Nicky’s chest as he holds him over his forearms. Nicky is about to pass him to his moms when Quỳnh smiles softly up at him and says, “Looks like you’ve got him.”

He throws her a glance as if to ask, are you sure, and Quỳnh and Andy both nod. Joe’s sure they’re grateful to have the small amount of rest time and, looking at them now, curled together on the couch in their soft clothes, exchanging light kisses, he knows he and Nicky haven’t come close to overstaying their welcome.

“Look at you, Nico,” coos Andy as Nicky carefully holds the baby against his shoulder to peek at his diaper through the waistband his tiny pants. “You’re making us look bad.”

Nicky only chuckles lightly and shakes his head. The diaper must be clean, because he leaves it be and brings a hand up to cup the back of the baby’s wispy-haired head more steadily, and begins to hum, almost a whisper, and Joe’s heart flutters.

“Do you think he’s hungry?” Nicky asks Andy when the baby continues to fuss.

Turns out he is hungry, because he quiets almost immediately when Andy brings him to her chest. It’s not silent in the apartment--Joe can hear some sirens through the window on the streets far below, can hear the air conditioner groan to life, can hear Quỳnh and Nicky’s forks clink against their plates as they continue to eat the questionable breast-milk-pasta (good lord). And, Joe can hear the soft little grunts and snorts that the baby makes as he feeds.

Joe watches his oldest friends--they’re parents now, he can hardly believe it--as they huddle close on the couch and watch their son. Quỳnh wraps her arms under Andy’s so they’re both holding him, and his little chubby fist twitches and flings out every once in a while against Andy’s rolled-up shirt. His feet look impossibly small. Joe remembers the sounds he made when he and Nicky went shopping for all manner of baby supplies to help shave some stuff off Andy and Quỳnh’s list. He’d nearly sobbed when Nicky came up to the cart holding a pair of incredibly tiny socks (and then he had teared up and nearly passed out when Nicky popped the socks over his thumbs. A lot of people stared).

Joe would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been thinking of revisiting that store with Nicky every day since.

Now, he looks at his husband to find him already watching him, his heart in his eyes. Nicky slowly moves his gaze to their friends, to the baby, and Joe follows it. When their eyes meet again, Nicky’s are a little damp with tears, but he’s smiling, and there’s something inquisitive and hopeful in his eyes. Joe matches him and slowly, they both nod.

Yes.

[eden-regained]

It’s happening again. I’m channeling my inner cringequeen.

BUT HEAR ME OUT

A multicrossover AU in which the characters are an Addams-esque family living in a big victorian gothic mansion

1) Murdoc is the horribly dysfunctional dad. He was born in 666 and made a deal with the devil to become immortal, making him outlive every wife of his by a long shot. He usually sleeps inside the guest room’s gigantic fireplace (feels just like home), yes, even when visitors are over. The man needs his comfy bed! His favourite meal to both eat and prepare is Lamb Chop, when served he and his kids refer to dinner as “sacrificing the Lamb of God”.

Also I decided he’s a grandson of Chang’e and Hou Yi because why not.

2) Sans and Papyrus are the cool uncles who come to visit for every family gathering, though for different reasons. Sans is always super chill. When he watches the kids he lets them eat all the hotdogs and sweets they want and they’re allowed to watch movies all night. Plus, he's basically got every pun known to man up his sleeve and that’s always a win.

Papyrus on the other hand is energetic and actually plays with the kids, preferably videogames. He’s really bad at Mario Kart but has fun either way. He’s also convinced he’s THE GREATEST cook “alive” despite not even having tastebuds or a digestive tract for that matter, the spaghetti just falls right through him and he’s still shook every time).

3) Remilia Scarlet is the eldest child. She’s moved out to live in her own mansion on Corsica, though she comes to stay over every weekend. While she might appear to be a poised, well-behaved little girl she’s an absolute rantipole deep down who made Murdoc’s life a living hell when she still an actual child. Changing nappies? Kid just literally flew off the changing table and Murdoc had to try and catch her with a bug net and should he be unlucky enough to not get her in time she’d make herself at home in the attic’s ceiling beams and sleep there like a bat. Bottlefeeding? Vampires prefer... fresher sustenance, intravenous so to speak. Lullabies? Nah man, bring out the pipe organ. Remilia is a handful and she knows it.

That being said, Remi deeply loves and cares for her family, if anyone dares to do harm to one of her relatives she will unleash her wrath and woe to the poor fool who will not see the moon rise the next night.

4) Flandre Scarlet is the second oldest, though like Remilia her vampiric curse makes her look younger than her siblings. Despite being equipped with cosmic-horror-levels of destructive magic and raw strength she’s probably one of the family members least prone to violence. Her closet is filled to the brim with frilly dresses that would make every fan of lolita fashion go green with jealousy and she's accumulated a ton of toys from all over history, the half broken and grimy victorian porcelain dolls with clothes dyed with arsenic “Scheele’s Green” are her most prized possessions! (She does not let Papyrus even near them in fear he might break them)

Ironically Flandre is the only one in the house who adores the sun and everytime the family goes on a roadtrip they slather the poor kid head to toe in sunscreen to the point where she looks like a snowman and she’s only allowed to leave the horse carriage with atleast two hats and a ginormous parasol and yes, it’s the kind you find standing outside restaurants and cafès, Murdoc definitely stole it, don’t ask me how.

5) Mami Tomoe is the third child. She got beheaded in a witch trial and can now attatch and detatch her head at will. Well, kind of, sometimes she wakes up to being body-less and being placed in some random spot of the house “as a prank”, and that house it huge, imagine how long it takes her to put herself back together again. Yikes!

Don’t let her eloquent and gentle demeanor, her room with the cheesiest floral patterned wallpaper and the pastel dresses fool you, tea and biscuits aren’t the only thing she’s handy at. After all, that closet full of rifles from the 17th century isn't just for show...

6) Homura Akemi is the second youngest. She quite literally has skeletons in her closet and no, I’m not talking about Papyrus playing hide and seek again and not getting the memo that maaaaybe he’s been in there for two weeks not because the kids couldn’t find him. Homura is a witch and she’s not afraid to show it; pointy hat, black flowing dress, a greenhouse with bizarre plants from all around the world (though the Red Spider Lilies are still her favourites) and of course a big spellbook on her nightstand. Her specialty is time-based magic which she learned from their head maid. To use it she needs a special hourglass which Sans gave her as a gift for her 60th birthday that she has integrated into a shield and a mixture of the finest red sand mixed with cremated remains (fun fact, in canon Homura’s full witch form in Rebellion IS a skeleton. Kind of.)

7) Kaori, though better known by her nickname; Noodle, is the youngest of the bunch. She’s probably the most normal person in the house, weren’t it for the fact that she is a genetically engineered human born from Grandpa Gaster’s basement lab. As a result Noodle’s an extraordinarily fast learner, already being able to speak 26 languages fluently at the age of 10, she and Remilia love to curse like sailors in french just to piss of their dad.

Her martial arts skills are also someting to behold, Noodle is the only one besides Flandre who can take on Homura’s magical plants once they “go rogue” again under the full moon (the girls made their own task force to deal with the green ire called “Rose Busters” pun intended, Sans is proud!)

8) Sakuya Izayoi may look like an ordinary, albeit somewhat old-fashioned maid, but she’s actually been the family’s highly renowned head servant for generations thanks to her ability to control the very flow of time. As Murdoc’s neglectful and unloving mother Katherine cut all ties with the family Sakuya became the closest thing to a maternal figure in his life.

It’s become sort of a running gag in the house that Sakuya can conveniently appear everywhere. One time she nearly gave Murdoc a heart attack when the guy sat on the toilet cursing about the lack of paper when out of nowhere Sakuya plops up next to him with a toilet roll in hand and a deadpan expression just going “You’re welcome Milord.”

9) Flowey is the most feared plant in the greenhouse and Homura one day decided it’s for the best to lock that beast up in a lion cage. Murdoc especially is freaked out by the thing, quote: “Yeah no, I’m not touching that chlorophyll-cunt with a ten foot pole!” Weirdly enough Mami is the only one who Flowey allows to water and repot him without making a scene and by "scene” I mean transforming into an eldritch abomination.

10) Napstablook is the household spirit who gets to live in the attic so they can watch the stars at night.

11) In honor of the tumblr sexyman battle I’ve decided that Reigen is the neighbourhood conman who goes from door to door to sell his shady products. He’s made multiple attempts to sell the family some bogus-magic-knockoffs, even going so far as to disguise himself so they’d let him in again but he just got the boot everytime.

12) Gaster, the malformed and enigmatic grandfather, lurks in the catacombs deep beneath the mansion. He’s locked himself away so he can be undisturbed in his quest to get to the bottom of the universe’s mysteries by studying magic and experimenting with various arcane forces. His sister, great aunt Patchouli, is the only one who can still communicate with him as he’s gone mad from centuries, if not millennia of exposure to creatures and knowledge not meant for a mortal brain.

He’s the creator of the Lapis philosophorum. Turns out that stone is not only able to turn things to gold, it also attached itself to Gaster’ soul like a parasite, keeping him alive as a half melted, only vaguely human being so it can feed off the magical energy he accumulates. Patchouli has made multiple efforts to destroy the stone with the help of her coven but the thing cannot be destroyed, atleast not for now.

[soobasaur]

jisung finding out you’re a vampire au

i promise you don’t have to be afraid, i’ll wait

han!jisung x gender!neutral reader

humans x vampire alternate universe warnings: mentions of blood genre: a little angst if you squint, fluff

a/n: i just finished watching the anime seraph of the end (the first part) and now my head is clouded with vampires x humans so here you go :’)

« masterlist similar work »

ok you didn’t mean for jisung to find out right away, like of course you were gonna tell him

but as the days went on you just kept telling yourself “i’ll do it tomr” but you couldn’t bring it up

and so almost a whole year passed before it was out

jisung was staying over at your place, and for once in his life, went to bed earlier then you

and you were starving but you couldn’t drink blood in front of your boyfriend jsdkkd

you’ve never had human blood before, only animal ones, just the thought of it irked you but you knew you’d have to give it a try one day

and since jisung never cooked he had never even really opened your fridge, if he had and looked past the vegetables he would see the bags of blood you kept

being vampire, you could eat human food it just didn’t bring you any enjoyment

you could only taste a few of them, and they never made you full

you usually ended throwing up afterwards

that didn’t stop you from going on food dates with jisung tho <3

ಠ_ಠ the things you do for that man

anyways, you thought jisung was asleep so you dug through your fridge for a bag of blood, you were pretty sure you had one cow one left

you sighed in relief as soon as you punctured the plastic bag with your teeth, usually you’d use a straw if you were feeling up to being neat

but you were too hungry so you slurped that shit up and turned to using your phone

you had your headphones in so you didn’t hear the patter of footsteps coming near you

you did hear a gasp and a glass cup shatter though, and when you looked up you saw the culprit jisung standing in a circle of glass shards with his mouth open wide at you

you quickly put the bag down and put your hands up

“jisung? don’t move let me grab a broom—,”

you rushed to the closet and brought out the broom, only to find jisung sitting at the table examining the blood bag

you were gonna ask him to put it down, but thought better of it and knelt down to clean up the shards

you walked back to jisung only to notice his ankle bleeding a little, but he hadn’t noticed cus he was too fixated on the blood bag

“fuck you’re bleeding!” you rushed off, again, to grab a first aid kid and pulled out guaze

but jisung was just staring at you and took it from you, bending down to deal with it himself

you still wanted to help so you opened a bandaid and went to place it but jisung flinched his leg away

which made you freeze in place as he opened a new one and did it himself, leaving you to get up and throw away the the packaging

“jisung, can we talk?” you mumbled, sitting across from him as to not scare him anymore then you already have “i’m still the same y/n as i was a day ago—,”

“were you just never gonna tell me?” he interrupted, pushing the bag back towards you, “or were you just gonna pretend for who knows how long?”

“of course i was gonna tell you-

“it’s been a year y/n.” he deadpanned

“i,,,i wasn’t ready, what more can i say?”

you had been terrified to tell him in fear of pushing him away, but seeing him flinch away from you just now fueled your insecurities

“sung, are you scared of me?” you asked. your voice quiet as all your confidence was slowly leaving you

“i thought i was, but you’re right it’s just you so i have nothing to be scared of. i’m just sad you didn’t tell me sooner, do you not trust me?” you couldn’t ignore the frown forming on his face

“of course i do, i guess i was scared of you and and how you’d leave me after you found out,”

you put your head down on the table in defeat and heard the chair legs screech as it was pushed back, and a pair of approaching footsteps make their way to your side

you felt jisung’s hand gently tap your shoulder, leading you to look up at him

“i’d never leave you, vampire or not.” he assured, raking his hands through your hair

after that it was smooth sailing for the most part

you guys talked for an hour or two about what he could do to make it easier for you both

jisung was devastated when he found out you couldn’t even taste most of the foods he took you out for

“does that mean you pretended when i cooked you a meal? y/n !!! at least you can’t taste my bad cooking...”

he did have a lot of questions though

“can you fly??”

“no sung, though that would be really cool-,”

“what about a bat? can you turn into one??”

*sigh* “nope.”

“can you control minds??”

“fuck i wish i could.”

“can you drink the color red?”

“..isn’t that from adventure time?”

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) apart from him asking little things like that he was chill with it

except that one time you guys went grocery shopping and he chucked a garlic at you, confused as to why you didn’t cry in pain

and when you went over to his place and just walked inside, jisung pestering you on how you didn’t ask for permission and wasn’t that against the rules

and don’t you get started on the fucking sun

(┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻

jisung insisted he bring an umbrella whenever the two of you went out but you kept reassuring him the sun didn’t burn off your skin, just felt like a pinch to it sometimes!

it was really cute though about how much he cared v(=∩_∩=)ﾌ

(•̀ᴗ•́)و making fun of inaccuracies in twilight with him was a blast was one of you new favorite hobbies

you guys went on new dates together, you introduced him to restaurants that catered to vampires and had him try the foods you could actually taste

“so you can’t taste fried chicken, but you can taste lamb skewers?? make it make sense-!”

you let him look at your collection of blood bags and had to stop him from trying it

“it won’t taste the same as it does to me-,”

“but i wanna know how cow blood tastes like! you tried my cooking let me try your-,”

and fangs

jisung loved looking at your fangs, he thought it was cool how you could retract them on will

he made you feel more confident about them :’)

he would gently touch his fingers against them and ask you to kiss you with them out, ignoring your protests of hurting him

turns out he was okay with a little blood on his lips

jisung biting kink confirmed?/$:&

overall he was super sweet about it, and didn’t change how he treated you unless it was concerning your health

he was in love with you, vampire or not

thank you for reading ⁂