#multicharacter

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

The Backwoods AU

A Special Sort of Craving (Lloyd Hansen, The Gray Man)

The Detour (Thor, MCU)

The Stranger (Chris, Destroyer)

Forget-Me-Not (Loki, MCU)

The Farmer’s Daughter (Walter Marshall, Night Hunter)

The Rebound (Curtis Everett, Snowpiercer)

Second Best (Lee Bodecker, The Devil All the Time)

Crossed Wires (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob & Cole Turner, Ghosted)

Daddy Lesson (Rafe Cameron, OBX, Outer Banks)

All Things End (Arvin Russell, The Devil All the Time)

THTH (Ransom Drysdale, Knives Out)

Called To Duty (Captain Syverson, Sand Castle)

Unmanageable (Pete Brenner, Pain Hustlers)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.

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

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

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.

You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.

You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.

While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.

You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.

"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.

He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"

"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.

"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."

"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.

You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.

"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."

"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.

"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"

He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.

You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.

You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.

You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.

"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.

"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.

He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.

"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."

You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.

What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.

Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.

You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.

You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.

“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”

You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.

“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”

“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”

He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”

His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.

“How old is she?” You ask.

“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”

“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”

You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.

“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”

You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.

“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”

“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”

“Is it faster?” 

“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”

You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.

“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”

“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”

You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”

“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”

He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”

You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.

“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”

“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”

“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”

Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.

“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.

“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”

Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”

“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”

“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.

“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.

“Next week,” the first man growls.

“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”

Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.

“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.

“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.

“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”

“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”

“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”

“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”

“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”

“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.

“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”

“Two weeks?” He puffs.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.

“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”

“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.

“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”

“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”

“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!

“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”

He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.

“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”

“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”

You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.

“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”

He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.

[eevees-hobbies]

Okay so... What would their reaction be when they saw you ducking/bowing/reaching out to something on the floor and they noticed underneath your shirt/blouse (kinda like a downblouse) 🤔

This is so funny because (I’ll let you in on a secret) I’m VERY into flashing. #YouUnlockedOneofEevee’sFetishes! You win….a thirst!

Anyway, great question, Ella! I think it would depend on the level of your relationship. If you aren’t dating them? I think it would be a mixture of pretending like they didn’t see anything because they’re a gentleman (Umemiya and Suo) while others would noticeably combust (Sakura), and lastly, there’s the group that would absolutely stare until they were content with their eyeful (Togame and also Suo lol).

Now, if you’re in an established relationship with them?? Let’s thirst about it!

Content Warning: Flashing in public, mention of cunnilingus, masturbation, sexual acts in public, mention of cowgirl position. Minors Do Not Interact. 

Contains: Sakura, Suo, Togame & Umemiya. 

Haruka Sakura

“Oops, I dropped my wallet!”

His head turns because he thought he caught a glimpse of…

Oh, he did.

And he can see it all.

He lets out a noticeable groan when you bend just the right way so he can see down your shirt. Soft mounds covered in hickeys from the night before that peak into gorgeous, sensitive nipples. He’s biting his lip, trying to stave off the erection that is quickly growing in his pants.

His hand twitches because he can practically feel them in his palm.

In the comfort of your home? Please, flash him. In fact, he likes it when you walk around naked. Sure, he’ll have a persistent blush on his face, but pay it no mind; he’s into basking in all your naked glory. 

But in public? Other people can see you, pervert! 

“Put on my jacket.”

“Why, Kitten?”

Sigh, why are you the way that you are?

“I can see everything. Which means that the store clerk could see everything, and I’ll kill anyone who gets to look at my… just put on the jacket!” 

He definitely wants you to recreate the scene when you both get home so he can jerk off in front of you and cum on your tits.

Hayato Suo

As a reminder, Suo hates pesky clothes! Suo would not complain if you left the house without underwear or a bra; he’d encourage it. The easier the access, the quicker he can rub your clit under the table in Cafe Pothos until the seat of the booth is soaked in your-

So you bending over for him so he can see down your shirt? It’s all just visual foreplay that stokes his already intense desire for you. 

He’ll lean over in public, lips pressed against your ear, tongue flicking against your lobe, and whisper a husky, “I can’t wait to get you home.”

He enjoys a slow build, anyway, because he tucks away every single glimpse and flash you gift him–yes, he thinks of it as a gift–and calls forth the memory when he’s eating you out or fucking you that night. 

His jaw is getting tired from lapping at your delicious cunt? Can’t have that! 

Think about how she flashed you today, Suo. She was begging for this, no, aching for this treatment, and it’s your duty to give your girl precisely what she needs.

But if you keep flashing him throughout the day? He won’t wait until you’re at home. You’ll find a secluded area–an alley, perhaps, and his hands will be up your shirt while he’s kissing you against a wall, the insatiable throbbing against your inner thigh growing stronger with each passing second.

Jo Togame

Not you enticing Jo “everything is a bedroom if you look hard enough” Togame!

“Oh?” An eyebrow will shoot up as you bend over to pick something off the floor. As you grasp the object and straighten up, his hand is around your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

“My girl is so clumsy.”

He’s not talking about you dropping the item. He’s talking about how you’re practically exposing yourself in front of him. Clumsy, clumsy girl.

Before you know it, you’re straddling his lap in one of the theatre seats in the Ori with one of your breasts in his mouth. It would be hot if you weren’t worried about someone coming through the doors and catching you both.

“Jo! Someone could see…!”

He’ll respond, a mouthful of tit, “I thought you wanted people to see, yeah? That’s why you had them on display?”

“For you!” You hiss. 

“Shit, lucky me then.”

Doesn’t even think about stopping, though.

Hajime Umemiya

Embodies, “my eyes are up here” to me even when you wear a bra. He adores every inch of you, but he really loves your breasts.

Fantasizes about you riding him in nothing but a Bofurin jacket, one breast exposed while the other remains covered as you bounce like the good girl you are on his cock.

Sorry, I don’t know where that fantasy came from.

Anyway, his eyes would widen at seeing you practically falling out of your top, mouth watering like he hasn’t had a drink–of you–in ages, tongue rolling in his mouth, imagining the way your nipple would harden against it. You’d have to snap your finger in front of his face to get him to pay attention.

“Ume! Hello???”

“Sorry, I…you’re not wearing a bra. Wanna get out of here?”

Please say yes. He needs you to say yes. Because if he has to wait any longer with not having your breast in his mouth, he’ll combust.

“Fuck it, you want to do it in the car? Say yes, pretty girl.”

[navybrat817]

There's Something in the Water AU Teaser

Welcome to South Bunker! A gem of a town so well hidden it doesn't even appear on your GPS.

Stop at the diner for a bite to eat. Food so good you'll immediately want a nap before you even finish your plate.

Enjoying your cabin? That's what we love to hear, but you may want to keep your curtains closed. Some of the neighbors are a bit nosy.

Car trouble? That happens a lot around here, but don't worry. We have the best mechanic around.

Venture into the woods for a hike, but don't stray from the path and be wary of the hunters. They can get a little trigger happy.

It's truly picturesque when the sun goes down. It almost distracts you from the screams.

Oh, you're leaving?

No, you're not.

Welcome home.

[st3rll1nk]

Valentine’s Day!

Synopsis: It’s Valentine’s Day? How do you spend it with your girlfriend?

Rating: Multi-Character (Himeko, Kafka, Serval, Ruan Mei), Sfw, fluff, and romantic.

Himeko

Himeko is a simple women. She’ll spend Valentine’s Day with you personally with just the two of you. She’ll give you your favorite flower and treats. You guys would both be huddled up together under some blankets drinking coffee and having cookies bake in the oven while watching a movie. And, she’ll end it off with each other all cuddled up.

Kafka

Kafka is a very flirtatious and affectionate woman. She’ll practically spoil you on this day; giving you so many of your favorite flowers and treats along with a few stuff bears and written love letters. Even with her status of being a stellaron hunter, she’ll find a way to make a reservation at a high class restaurant. If you ask, she’ll peck your lips and say something along the lines of “Don’t worry your pretty little mind about it” with that sweet tone of hers. She’ll be overly affectionate and loving for the rest of the day.

Serval

Serval loves music and would likely compose a song about you and sing it to you personally on her guitar. She keeps it simple with gifts with a few roses and your favorite treats. She’ll take you out to a cafe where a bunch of jazz plays to “make the atmosphere romantic” while tells you nerdily about what music the jazz band is playing while talking to you on.

Ruan Mei

Ruan Mei would keep it simple and would take results from a few experiment with what you would like and don’t like to make the “perfect gift” for you. she knows how important expressing love to your significant other is and wants to do the same out of her affection. It’s simple yet elegant. She gives you a written love letter, your favorite treats, and roses. She’ll go out to a restaurant with you as custom too.

authors note: hopes you guys liked it! hopefully this isn’t too late bc for my time zone it isn’t. happy valentines day woo woo <3

[mr-gekk024]

Abisalli's emotion challenge (3/?) 

The third part of this challenge!

E10 horizon (Apex Legends)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

A2 Honey (Bluey)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

F10 Kelsey Bern (Craig of the Creek)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

H8 Kim Kitsuragi (Disco Elysium)[@merroll]

H5 Harrier "Harry" Du Bois (Disco Elysium)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

H8 Enoch (OFF)[@deadwdoodles]

3D Dedan (OFF)[@deadwdoodles]

E8 John Ward (FAITH)[@dollycheesecakes]

F6 Somsnosa (Hylics)[@deadwdoodles]

E3 Scott Pilgrim (Scott Pilgrim vs The world)[@avlitzx]

B10 Scott Pilgrim (Scott Pilgrim vs The world)[@avlitzx]

E1 Erizo (Summer Camp Island)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

B1 Oscar (Summer Camp Island)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

C9 Log Lady (Twin Peaks)[@somebody.mr.nobody]

I finally found a rendering technique that I like. I'm going to try to improve it, but at the moment, I like it better than the previous one

[sirendeepity]

[ Multicharacter; part ii ]

A/N: So I chose violence 😈 After ages, I finally forced convinced myself to finish the second part (mind you, 2 paragraphs out of 3 were already written, so it didn't require much effort). And maybe by the end of next week you'll have the third and final part, too? Asking for a miracle here, but still

T/W: -

W/C: 1k

Nesta cracked open an eye, only to find herself surrounded by debris and darkness again. She didn’t know why she expected something different, didn’t know why she expected anything at all. Pushing herself off the ground, one shoulder pressed against the wall at her side, Nesta rose on unsteady feet. She had to stop her ascent a couple of times to catch her breath, although standing was not supposed to be that hard. Nesta took a tentative step but halted soon after. She was on the second floor when the first wave hit, but she had no idea where she was now. She couldn’t just wander around, it was too risky. But she couldn’t even stay there and do nothing, waiting for someone to find her—if they ever managed to do that. Time was, apparently, not on her side.

“Logically,” Nesta said, no one but fallen books listening to her, “if I’m uninjured it means that I must not be far from…”

Nesta sighed. What was she even talking about? She had no clue what was where. Her head was swimming and her intestines were tied up in knots and—

A sob escaped her, followed by a second one, filling the cloud of silence engulfing her.

And she just wanted Cassian to hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

He had this annoying habit of always seeing the best outcome possible, always looking at the bright side. Nesta loved it so much it unnerved her. But Cassian wasn’t there to haul her out of the pit once again, was he?

With one hand glued to the slimy wall, Nesta put one foot in front of the other and began walking.

[ * * * ]

Cassian reached the House at the same moment Azriel did. His shadows were buzzing, frenetically twirling around his figure in a way Cassian had never seen before.

“Tell me there’s a way in,” Cassian asked, scanning the damage before his eyes.

Little was left of the House itself: the life he’d built with Nesta now lay buried under columns and memories. Nothing but red ruins.

“Not from here,” said Azriel, confirming his worries. The grounds were not secure yet, and moving things around would only increase the damage, upsetting an already delicate balance.

“We need to find a way in.”

“I know.”

“Nesta is in there. And Gwyn and Emerie and—”

“I know.”

“Gods, the entire House is—”

“Cassian, I know.”

Strong hands gripped his shoulders, forcing his gaze away from the wreckage of his home. Azriel's hazel eyes were a mirror of his own, worry creasing his brows. It was unsettling, Cassian realized, seeing so many emotions on his brother’s face. Five hundred years he’d known him, and Cassian could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Azriel so shaken, so unapologetically scared.

“Tell Rhys to get his ass here right now.”

[ * * * ]

Nesta had no idea for how long she’d been walking, or how much distance she’d covered. She kept close to the wall, mostly because she couldn’t very much stand without it. She had seen a beam of light at some point, or so she thought. She couldn’t see it anymore, and Nesta couldn’t tell the difference between what was real and what was not. Was she starting to hallucinate? Her head had begun to throb painfully, so much so she had to stop to take a breather on more than one occasion.

“I’m here.” Her voice was a weak little thing, barely more than a rasp. Nesta swallowed and tried again, with more effort, “I’m here. I’m here. I’m-”

A sound came from behind her, and Nesta turned, squinting into the dark.

“Hello?” She tried. “Is anyone here?”

It came again—a moan, or the echo of it. She stepped in its general direction.

“Where are you?” She needed them to talk, to make some noise, anything to make her focus on something that was not—

Cold light filled the space. From a faery light on the wall, its metal handles crooked. Somehow it was still working. It was flickering, there one moment and gone the next, but it was better than nothing. Nesta had to blink multiple times to adjust to the constant on-and-off, but even with her unfocused gaze, she managed to make out part of her surroundings. Books littered the floor, and some of the bookshelves had collapsed entirely, but overall the space had survived the shocks pretty well. If one did not count the huge chunks of wall blocking the passage every which way. Nesta leaned her forehead against the dark wall.

It shouldn’t have been that dark.

She gazed at her palms and found them coated in black ooze, the same sticky substance leaking from the wall itself. She wiped her forearm against the top of her head, trying to clean herself, but it only made her want to gag even more.

“Hel..p..”

Nesta halted her frantic movements, pushing past the screaming inside her head to focus on the noise—the voice.

“I’m here,” she whispered. She must’ve passed this way before, didn’t she? But she hadn’t heard anything, hadn’t seen anything. The faery light hadn’t even sensed her presence.

Off. On. Off. On. Off.

There.

An upturned shelf was partially blocking them from view, but those were legs.

Nesta picked up her pace, ignoring the pulsing darkness, or the slickness of the walls, or the pounding inside her chest.

Her knees gave out, hitting the stone at her feet with a dry pop. Choking on a sob, Nesta crawled those last few feet separating her from- from-

The air left her lungs in one, long exhale, the breathy sound ricocheting around the space. Tears blurred the face she’d come to love so dearly.

Nesta’s mouth filled with saliva, her throat working, as dizziness sized her body. She knew what was coming, and she bent over Emerie’s broken body, bracing herself as the world shook once more.

.

.

.

TAGS: @lady-winter-sunrise as promised (I didn't forget!!)

[kynia-ky3mart]

we are the ones who live 

this art collection is the reason why i was missing for so long... it took me MONTHS to complete, and i couldn’t be any prouder of myself for finishing this project :’) so i hope you like it! 

if you’d like to see my art straight away, see my progress, and also know what art i’m planning in advance, feel free to follow my instagram!

[allisberris]

gonna sound like a freak but why have i seen NOBODY talk about sm1 holding your wrist just to feel your pulse . HELLO??

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Lloyd Hansen Masterlist

Hostile Takeover

Zero Day

Unsolicited

Unexpected

Who’s The Boss?

The Grey Zone

A Foe Most Frightful (Medieval AU)

Multicharacter

Same as it ever was (Pete Brenner, Lloyd Hansen)

Old Scars, New Blood (Thor, Lloyd Hansen)

As the World Turns (Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen, Jonathan Pine)

Campus AU (Multifandom)

Three for One (Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale)

Somewhere Only We Know (with Nick Fowler ~ The 355)

Safe House (Sierra Six, Lloyd Hansen)

Pretty Petals (Multifandom)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

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

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

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns. 

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

[macverse]

may or may not have only come on to see if @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 341 was updated

it is

will be reading that now

it's so good

go read it

here, i'll help

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Daddy Ari! *swoon* Absolutely wonderful, from start to finish.

summary. | Your dad’s best friend knows you better than you do yourself.

prompts. | Ari Levinson + dad’s best friend + “I dreamt about you last night. Every night.” + Daddy kink, requested by @ameerakane20.

pairing. | dark!dad’s best friend!Ari Levinson x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, smut, age gap, Daddy kink, mentions of non-con somnophilia, mentions of sex dreams, obsession, dry humping/grinding, orgasm (f), dirty talk, delusion, pet names, praise, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

The sound of cicadas fills the air as you make your way downstairs, the door to the backyard open. The screen stays closed, though, to prevent any bugs from coming inside.

You know your father’s best friend is staying the night, but you didn't think he’d still be up. You can hear a football game playing on the television in the living room, and you walk past it in your venture to the kitchen.

A gruff voice calls your name before beckoning you to sit with him. You acquiesce, always intimidated by Ari. He’s quiet when your father is not around, yet always so intense. He practically sucks the all the air out of the room.

“You’re still up, huh?” he questions, even though it really isn’t that late. You’re a big girl. You can handle yourself. “Yeah… Er, where is he?” you ask, obviously alluding to your dad. “Oh, he went to the liquor store to get us a few beers,” Ari explains.

You nod your head. He pats the spot next to him, gesturing you to sit down. You do as he tells you, not wanting to be rude. But you also find your body listens involuntarily, almost as if he has complete control over it.

“You’re so quiet, aren’t ya?” Ari smiles, and you shake your head, also grinning. “It’s cute. I like it,” he says.

A few moments pass while you both watch the game on the TV, and you have a hard time breathing. You can’t deny Ari’s good looks, but being around him makes you so nervous.

As you’re lost in thought while staring at the screen, you feel a large, warm hand rest on your bare thigh. You’re wearing shorts tonight, as per usual, since it’s so hot. 

You turn your head and look at Ari, who’s already watching you with dark eyes. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and he gazes up and down your body.

“A– Ari?” you ask, nervous and aroused. “It’s Daddy to you, princess,” he roughly tells you, squeezing your thigh. “What?” you scoff as you go to stand up. 

The older man quickly pulls you onto his lap, though, and he holds you down with his immense strength. 

“I dreamt about you last night. Every night,” he whispers, nuzzling your cheek. His beard rubs against your skin, moving down to the crook of your neck. He presses kisses along the trail the entire time. “And I know you do, too, sweetie,” he hums, his hands groping your ass.

How does he know? The question dies on the tip of your tongue when he gives you a few spanks, making you yelp.

“I couldn’t just leave my girl by herself. And you were so wet, too,” Ari continues, his words horrifying yet true. Your dad’s best friend uses his grip to make you grind on his evident bulge, the pleasure nice yet wrong—so very wrong. 

You gasp at the sensation, loving the attention your achy clit is receiving. But you’re conflicted, and you want to do the right thing.

“Ari– Please, we can’t. Let me go—I won’t say a word, I swear,” you pant, his touch becoming addictive. You moan when he lands another smack on your ass, this time a bit harsher. “What did I say? Don’t make Daddy upset, baby.” 

“S- Sorry, D– Daddy. Please, leave me alone,” you beg, sounding a bit whiny as Ari continues to rub your pussy on his hard, clothed dick. “Why should I do that, honey? Hm? I’ve waited way too long to get you alone. I’m not letting you go,” he grunts, cock twitching under his jeans. 

“It’s wrong! You’re my dad’s friend,” you reason, and against your will, you can feel your climax nearing. It’s been so long since you’ve been fucked by a man—a real man. “And now I’m your Daddy. C’mon, it wouldn’t be my first time touching you, and that pussy’s been begging for me to fuck it,” Ari chuckles.

He picks up the pace on your hips, and your moans become louder despite your insistence on stopping. His previous words completely evade you.

“Aw, are you gonna come for Daddy?” he taunts, giving your ass a few light slaps. “Uh-huh,” you mewl, back arching. “Tell Daddy how much you want him, and I’ll let you come,” Ari suddenly demands.

You twist your face in frustration. You want to come so bad, but you don’t want him to keep touching you. Or maybe you do.

“I– I want you so bad, Daddy. I need you so much,” you whine, and Ari curses at your words. Just as perfect as he imagined. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Go ahead, come for Daddy. Make a mess in your panties,” he demands, and you do as he says.

The elastic band within you snaps as you hit your climax, pussy fluttering around nothing as you dampen your panties even more. 

“Doesn’t it feel so good when you listen to Daddy, baby?” he asks, and you can hear the strain in his voice. “Uh-huh,” you helplessly hum, riding out the rest of your orgasm. Ari keeps you going on his clothed dick until you try to push him away.

He pulls you towards his chest and holds you close, mouth next to your ear. “And even if you didn’t, I’d still get what I want. I always do.” 

[st3rll1nk]

Period Comfort (2/?)

Synopsis: You’re on your period. How does your girlfriend help you during this difficult time?

Rating: Multi-Characters (Serval, Sliver Wolf, and Bronya) x Afab Reader, Sfw, and Fluff.

Serval

Serval would be very helpful yet worried about yourself being a lot. Especially if you have a very intense cycle, she’ll be on your case all the time. She’ll get you whatever you want; like snacks, and cuddles. She’ll sing songs to you to help calm you from your cramps. If she’s also on her cycle, she’ll be a bit quiet but loving as usual. She recognizes she needs to take care of herself for you and would absolutely do that for you not to worry. Both of you guys would likely depend on each other and be together more.

Serval places your favorite drink and looks at you as you do some paper work in your personal office at your shared home. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Serval asks for who knows how many times. “Yes.. I’m just alright, Serval. You worry too much-” Before you could continue, you dropped your pen on your pen and winced in pain from another cramp. Serval frowned at your pain and grabbed your hand. “You’re obviously not okay. Forget the work and let’s just go to bed, hm?” By now, you would make some stubborn remarks but with how in pain you were, you obliged and went along with Serval, hand in hand.

Sliver Wolf

Sliver Wolf would pretend to be annoyed about it but, is secretly worried about you. If you ask or want anything, she’ll give it to you in a grumpy manner. If you need any kind of affection, she’ll have you sit in her lap as she played video games; occasionally rubbing your stomach while mumbling how needy you are. But, she’s really the needy one. If you get emotional at her comments in anyway from your hormones, she’ll feel very guilty and mumble a apology while focusing her attention on you. If she’s at her cycle with you, she’ll be very grumpy and needy of you. Really needy. The type that’ll straddle you to your shared bed for who knows how long. Best to go into her demands.

You buried your face into Sliver Wolf’s neck as she held you close to her with one arm as she played yet another video game. She sighed, glancing at you and then her game. “You’re so needy. You should be glad I’m even having you on my lap.” She mumbled under her breath, burying the side of her face onto your hair as she played. “Mhm.. Yeah, I’m ‘oh so’ very glad..” You whispered, knowing it was quite the opposite. Sliver Wolf rolled her eyes at that sarcastic comment. “Ugh.. whatever..” She scoffed, kissing your forehead for a brief moment before going back to her game.

Bronya

Bronya would definitely panic. Not enough to make it noticeable on her face but enough that you can slightly tell in her voice. With you, it’s harder to hide. You’re her weak spot! It’s not like she doesn’t know what to do, it’s more about the things you would want. She doesn’t want to mess up! She’s a leader and it’s very much shown in how she helps. She’ll ask and give you whatever you need even if she’s busy or not. She’ll let you sit in her lap, cuddle, and do whatever you want. Might even try to work from your shared home to be with you. She just cares about you too much to mess anything up for you and is very noticeable in her actions. If she also gets in sync with you, she’s definitely staying home with you. She had heavy cramps yet would still act like the hero for you. She’ll crave affection from you yet would feel bad asking something that you might force yourself to do for her! She needs it. Badly.

“Bronya.. Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked as Bronya sat up from your shared bed. Coincidentally, both of you were on your cycle. And, her cramps were.. very heavy. And, Bronya was making some hot chocolate you requested from your cravings in the kitchen. But, Bronya just smiled; which came out as more of a forced grin. It was. “Yes, (Name), I’m just fine.. Just go to our-” Before Bronya could talk any more, you turned off the stove from behind her. You wrapped your arms around her waist and you pulled a few steps back gently from the stove. “Bronya. You’re in pain. I could’ve just made it myself. All you had to do was say it.” You whispered in her ear, rubbings small circles with your thumbs on her waist. Bronya sighed, feeling guilty. All she wanted to do was just to make you happy! “I.. I know, (Name). Sorry..” Bronya replied, knowing you were right against her stubbornness. You sighed and spoke, “It’s alright, Bronya. How about I finish the rest and you head back to our room, hm?” You asked in her ear. Bronya nodded, going back to her room with a lipstick-print lips on her cheek and a soft smile on her lips.

authors note: hey hoped you like it! serval was very hard to write and a bit rushed so sorry if this wasn’t up to your interpretation of her. requests r always open and dm me if u have any writing improvements!

[mr-gekk024]

Abisalli's emotion challenge (1/?) 

dynamic that I did in intagram!

9D 81 (Unload) [@avlitzx]

10H The Batter (OFF) [@avlitzx]

1G Erika Furudo (07th Expansion) [@sleepdeptrived._agent]

6G Nox (Wakfu) [@biggus_gymmus]

4A Noriaki Kakyoin (JJBA) [@_ramensocks]

3H Belos (The Owl House) [@_merroll]

3A The Son (Hotline Miami) [@dollycheesecakes]

6H John Ward (FAITH) [@dollycheesecakes]

[star-bear-art]

I have been so dreadfully unhappy with my art lately and I think it shows! so until I figure out how to tap my strange brain for sweet sweet content again, I hand over these very unfinshed little things to the endlessly gaping maw of fandom. oh my aching soul, be appeased!!