#or a very very large rabbit in this case

[sirfrogsworth]

The short answer is... a tilt-shift lens.

The slightly more complicated answer is... Mister Rogers.

Depth of field is the area in front and behind your chosen focus point that remains in focus and then slowly gets blurry as you get farther away.

Shallow depth of field only has a narrow slice of the image in focus and gets blurry super quick. This is caused by a large lens aperture and being close to the subject.

Deep depth of field can extend through the entire picture if your aperture is small and you are super far away.

Usually the depth of field lines up with the image sensor of your camera. So if it is tilted forward, the plane of focus matches.

The stuff outside the green area would be blurry. The edges of the green would be slightly blurry. And the dashed green line would be the sharpest area of the photo.

But the tilt-shift lens allows you to create chaos with your plane of focus. In most cases, you would use this to flatten the depth of field so you can get a 2D plane entirely in focus.

If you were to use a normal lens, the bottom left and top right would be blurry.

But with a tilt-shift lens you can do this.

The green area is taking a little nap on the floor.

However, there is an unintended side effect created by this lens. (The "Scheimpflug intersection" if you want to go down the rabbit hole.) You can choose absolutely wacky planes of focus that create a very narrow depth of field over a geographically large area.

Believe it or not, this is when psychology comes into play.

And possibly Mister Rogers.

Our only reference for such a large area having a shallow depth of field is our memories of miniatures on TV. So Mister Rogers and Thomas the Tank Engine trained our brains to see this effect as... small.

Depth of field shrinks the closer you are to something. And when filming miniatures, you are placing the lens close to the scene. But the scene represents something big in our minds. We buy the effect, but not 100%. That blurriness wouldn't be there at a regular scale. So our subconscious remembers we are watching small things pretending to be big. It just files that away in the back of our mind.

And then when we see something like this...

Our brain is all, "Look at all that tiny shit!"

Without Mister Rogers, our brains may have never made these connections and tilt-shift photography may just make us wonder why everything is all blurry. That connection to past experience is vital for this effect to be convincing.

Brains are neat.

[ellecdc]

Hiiii! I have a request, poly!marauders x animagus!fem reader (you decide what type of animal) and everytime it’s full moon she turn into an animagus and watches hboyfriends (kinda lurks around secretly) as they take care of Remus. The thing is they don’t know that she’s an animagus, and what would their reaction be when they found out?

(You’re an amazing writer and your fics makes my day🫶🏻)

this was so sweet - thanks for your request and for your patience in me getting this to you!

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!marauders x fem!reader who's a secret animagus

Prongs was very confused.

This was the third moon in a row that he, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Moony had been romping through the woods when Moony seemed to get caught up on something.

He wasn’t sure what had changed; they always followed the same routine: transform in the shack, let Moony out, follow their trail where they can run (and roll, in Moony & Padfoots case) down a large hill, chase each other along the river bank, drink from the edge of the Black Lake, and slowly make their way back to the shack for Moony’s transformation. 

Except, once again, they seemed to be caught up under this unassuming tree.

Prongs looked to his canine companion who offered what he could only assume as a doggy shoulder shrug as Moony yipped and stood on his hind legs in an attempt to see through the lowest bows of the tree.

The first time this happened, Moony almost took one of Padfoot’s legs off for trying to encourage him to leave the tree. 

The second time, Moony could only be convinced to leave as his bones actually started stretching and reorganising themselves as the transformation started.

What was even stranger, though? After both of those moons, Remus woke up in a panic asking where you were and if you were ‘okay’.

It took Sirius shifting back into Padfoot and laying across Remus’ chest in order to provide grounding pressure to his chest before they could get him to calm back down and convince him that you were safe.

James hated seeing this side of Remus; the side of him that none of them had seen since before the Marauders told him that they knew his secret. He felt horribly paranoid, reclusive, and entirely too guilty. 

Guilty for daring to love you even though he felt you deserved better. Guilty for allowing you to love a werewolf. Guilty for not telling you that you were in love with a werewolf. And guilty for lying to you about it every month.

Sirius and James hated the secrecy too - but it wasn’t their secret to tell. They loved you, but they couldn’t take away Remus’ autonomy when it came to his infliction.

But, tonight - the third moon in a row of this nonsense from Moony - and Prongs had had it.

Prongs bowed his head and scooped Wormtail up into his antlers, hoisting him up to the lowest branch of this damned tree Moony was fucking obsessed with and encouraged him to investigate. 

Moony let out a little whine and a huff as he sat and watched the little rat disappear through the bows of the grand pine. 

A squeak alerted the two animagi and one werewolf to trouble when the top branches began to move and out flew a large black crow with a rat trapped in its talons. 

The crow gently glided to the ground about ten feet away from the trio and let go of the rat who quickly ran up Prong’s leg and situated himself in the safety of his antlers. 

Padfoot - ever protective of his pack of misfit toys animals - began stalking toward the offending bird, sure that Moony was just as excited as he was about this impromptu hunt. It wasn’t their favourite - it was not a rabbit - but it would do. 

However, much to both Padfoot and Prongs’ surprise, Moony quickly leapt in front of the crow and grumbled warningly at Padfoot, going so far as to bare his teeth at his pack member. 

Padfoot tilted his head in confusion at Moony as if perhaps the situation would make more sense at a 45 degree angle, but it appeared that it made no difference when Pads ultimately huffed and turned back towards Prongs. 

Prongs wanted to laugh - but deer stags couldn’t do that - so he let out a ‘bleat’ as the crow flew above Padfoot and teasingly landed on his head.

Padfoot, ready for a fight, turned to nip at the bird who simply jumped back up and hovered just out of reach of the dog.

Prongs was suddenly even more confused.

What crow willingly releases a plump, likely juicy, rat from its talons instead of enjoying it as their meal? And what crow willingly teases a large werewolf sized dog in front of his werewolf friend? 

This one, apparently.

And Moony - usually very possessive and exclusionary when it came to the other creatures they came across in the Forbidden Forest - seemed not only accepting of this new addition, but really quite pleased with it. 

But it was time to go if Moony’s flinches and groaning was any indication; the transformation would happen soon. 

Padfoot moved towards Moony and affectionately nudged him with his shoulder, hoping to encourage him towards the Shrieking Shack. 

Moony seemed to understand that he ought to go, but couldn’t bring himself to leave without his newest friend.

Somehow - to Prongs’ absolute astonishment - the crow seemed to understand what the hold up was and flew over to situate itself on Prongs’ antler.

Prongs - far too tired after a night full of romping with a werewolf directly after a full day of classes - acquiesced to being a glorified chauffeur for his smaller friends and led the way to the shack. 

The crow sat quietly on the top of the old fireplace as the Marauders went about business as usual. 

Padfoot convinced Moony to curl up on the bed so he would wake up at least semi-comfortably, whilst Prongs used his antlers to encourage a blanket up around Moony so he wouldn’t wake up completely nude, and Peter ran back towards the castle to give the lovers some privacy. 

Once Moony returned fully to Remus, Prongs and Padfoot took a moment to shift back to their own human forms and started up on the healing process, completely forgetting about their interloper.

With a groan, Remus came to after James encouraged healing potion down his throat.

“I’m sorry, Moons.” He apologised in a whisper as he handed the empty vial to Sirius’ waiting hand.

“Where is she?” Remus croaked. 

“Where’s who, babe?” Sirius asked, sharing a concerned glance with James. 

Remus choked in his attempt to respond and both boys began shushing him. “Dovey.” He finally got out.

“She’s at the castle, Moons…she’s safe.” James placated.

“No.” Remus argued. “She was there.”

James turned to see if Sirius had any idea how to handle their boyfriend’s insanity when he spotted it behind Sirius.

The crow.

“You.” He whispered in awe, causing Sirius to whip his head around.

The crow hopped down from the mantle of the fireplace and landed gracefully on the floor before it spun and grew back into you.

“Dovey.” Remus groaned. James turned to see there were tears in Remus’ eyes, though he knew not what for. 

“Hiya Moons.” You answered shyly, shooting guilty glances at Sirius who was still staring at you in shock and to James who was looking frantically between you and Remus.

“It’s been you?” James asked incredulously.

“How long have you known?” Remus asked at the same time.

You smiled sadly at Remus and knelt down beside him. “Long enough to become an animagi?”

“You sneaky little witch.” Sirius finally let out with a breath, sitting down unceremoniously at the foot of the bed to look at you.

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” You begged quickly; eyes darting nervously between your three boyfriends.

“You’re worried about us being mad?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. 

“Angel, you’ve caught us sneaking around and lying to you.” James teased with a certain level of sincerity, nudging you with his shoulder. 

“Do you hate me?” Remus whispered, eyes still trained steadfast on you.

You looked at him like he had grown three heads.

“Remus, I love you. That’s why I’m here.” You pressed severely. 

Remus laughed out a sob and covered his face with his hands. 

“I’m sorry, but what the fuck were you thinking?” Sirius asked suddenly.

“What?” You responded warily.

“Casually inserting yourself into a werewolf pack! What would you have done if Moony hated you?” He barked, flinging a hand towards Remus’ general direction.

You scoffed derisively and shot Remus a look like ‘can you believe this guy?’ “I’m impossible not to love, Sirius. Do keep up.”

Your cheek earned you a scoff before Sirius was launching himself at you and the two of you fell to the floor, disturbing layers of dust and causing the particles to dance through the air. 

“You’re so lucky you're cute.” Sirius said in faux contempt as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses. 

James sighed in relief as he looked back over at Remus who was watching the two of you with a look so full of fondness, James was surprised he couldn’t see hearts pouring out of his eyes.

“You okay, Rem?” James asked him quietly, pulling one of his hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Perfect, Jamie. Just perfect.” Remus said with a content smile and a single happy tear trailing down his cheek.

James was more than inclined to agree.

[mojogojocasahouse]

unexpected visitor

jiyan x f!reader

Jiyan sneaks home to your bed in desperate need of a soft touch and sleep

c: NSFW 18+ only, smut, oral f-receiving, creampie, tacet marks are sensitive I don't make the rules, not beta'd

He slips in like a whisper, an unexpected secret cradled by the black of night. At first, you mistake him for the rustling of a rabbit outside the window and a burst of wind swirling beneath the clear moon, but then there was the clanking of metal buckles and the rustling of heavy robes falling to the floor. There was only one source of those sounds.

Jiyan.

Two weeks had passed since he’d left, and according to him, he was supposed to have been gone for much longer. Now, the mattress is dipping as he falls into bed behind you, a strong, warm arm circling your middle and pulling you flush against a broad, muscled chest, lips pressing to the curve of your neck.

“You’re home early,” you whisper, reaching back and threading your fingers through long, teal hair.

“Only for tonight,” he sighs, nuzzling his nose to the hollow behind your ear, “No one knows I’m away. I’ll have to leave before first light.”

“And what will you tell them?” you ask with a mischievous lilt.

“That I needed to sleep.”

Those words have you turning, his piercing gold eyes meeting yours and pleading for what only you can give him. He’s always said he can only sleep here, in the sanctuary of your bed. He doesn’t even have a home of his own anymore, it’s a tent on the front lines or this small cottage in the village. He has little in the way of belongings, but he leaves hints of himself around that you find and smile fondly at. Though nothing compares to the sight of him basking in white light, gazing at you as if you hung those very stars in the sky.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you soothe, brushing his bangs from his eyes. You already know the answer, but still, you ask every time in case he changes his mind.

“No.” It’s a polite but curt response, “You need not hear of the troubles of war.”

“But you’re troubles–”

“Are mine to bear.”

That will be the end of that discussion, as it always is. With a sigh, you cup the back of his head and pull him in, his lips so gentle and cautious as you welcome him home even if it is only for a moment. It’s your tongue that asks for entrance first, sliding along his bottom lip slowly, and he opens with a sigh. Large hands pull you in closer, your leg winding around his waist and you can feel his erection pressing against your thinly clothed slit. He’s opted to sleep with nothing on, as usual, and you curse the thin shorts you’d decided to wear. The grip he has on your side is hard enough to bruise, and you hope he has every intention of making sure you feel him tomorrow when you wake up in the bed alone almost as if he’d never come. Like this was all a fever dream. You’re still not sure if it is.

The tips of your fingers gently trace the Tacet Mark on his upper spine, his breath hitching as he flips you to your back. He kisses you like a man starved, nipping and licking into your mouth with greed and gluttony, his hips pulsing into your damp center as he slowly begins to lose that steadfast composure he holds so dear. You want him to lose it, too. He deserves to take for once, and you’ll let him bleed you dry.

As your teeth bite down onto his lower lip, he groans, taking one last parting peck before sliding down your body. The shirt you’re wearing is torn down the middle, and he latches onto one of your stiffened buds, his hands moving to cradle your other breast as if he hasn’t touched anything soft in weeks. His touch is so reverent and desperate that you’re whimpering as his tongue swirls and lips purse, your hands tangled in his locks as he descends lower, pecking a trail down your stomach until he’s pulling your shorts and panties off in one quick tug. 

Mingling moans echo off the walls as he locks onto your clit, your back arching off the bed as he suckles hard, worrying it between his lips before lapping at your soaked slit. You know you’re soaked, your inner thighs wet with what has already leaked free, and he takes it upon himself to not miss a single drop. As he’s tasting the sweetness sticking to your legs, you spread them further, inviting him back to bury his tongue in your cunt. And he does, happily, pulling you so tightly down onto his face you’re not sure he can breathe.

Muffled grunts and hums of bliss rumble deep in his throat, the vibration enough to have you keening in his hold. His talented mouth alternates between teasing your swollen bundle of nerves and enjoying the nectars of his labor, his face smeared and glistening every time he comes up for air. You want more, but you don’t dare stop him. If this is what he needs, this is what he can have, all you can do is scrape your nails soothingly against his scalp and try to quiet the roiling storm building in your belly. 

He’s waiting for you to come, you know that, but still, you try and stop the balloon threatening to burst. The sooner this is the over the sooner he’s gone again. And while you feign bravery and understanding of his long, frequent absences, deep down it breaks you every day to walk around town and see the couples together doing mundane tasks. They’re shopping, enjoying a meal, laughing and walking, and you’re…alone. You sacrifice the one you love so they can have this life, and while you’ve come to peace with this, no part of you has convinced you that you have to like it.

When he adds a finger, then two, you’re pulling his mouth back to your core by his hair, his smile stretched across your skin as the tip of his tongue prods so skillfully.

“That’s it,” he praises, “That’s what I want. Let me have it, baby.”

All he ever has to do is ask. Your orgasm washes over you gently like the waves on the shore, nowhere near as explosive as you’d been expecting, but you assume that was his intention. He knew you well enough to have discovered which of his ministrations caused which reaction and now he was almost tactile. It’s a little unfair.

No time is wasted, you’ve barely registered the end of your descent into the clouds and you can feel the soft head of his cock pushing into your cunt, your slippery walls giving no resistance as he bottoms out. He gives you a moment to adjust, taking advantage of your parted, panting lips to drag you into a messy kiss you can taste yourself on. You’ve missed the way he feels stuffed inside of you, bullying its way into a space too tight to accommodate his length and girth, but the burn subsides quickly and you let him know with a quick roll of your hips to urge him on.

The course hairs at his base are already soaked with your arousal as he begins to snap his hips into yours, the sound of skin slapping and breathy moans like a forbidden song drifting off into the night. His forehead is pressed to yours, the only air you can breathe is each other’s, and he entwines his fingers with yours and pins your hands to either side of your head, opening you up to his new, brutal pace. He can’t help himself, he’s long gone, drowning in the way your pussy clamps down around him every time he lets a whine slip out. You’d think he’d have learned by now and let his blissed sounds free, but he hasn’t. Maybe he never will.

“Jiyan,” you mewl, gripping him so tightly your knuckles turn white, “harder.”

It’s like something snaps, with a groan, he pushes himself up to sit on his knees, his hands claiming your waist as his hips begin to piston so hard his hold is the only thing keeping you in place. Your tits bouncing wildly hold his gaze as you cry out loud enough for anyone in the surrounding area to hear.

“Touch yourself,” he commands, regret in his voice because he can’t do it himself, “Come on my cock.”

Your two middle fingers dive to rub frantic circles on your clit, but you’re unable to focus as you dip your touch down to feel where he’s mercilessly thrusting into your hole. You can feel how stretched you are, how swollen, you’re moments away from release.

“Come with me,” you beg, your nails scraping down the firm dips and swells of his stomach, “Come with me, please.”

He looks wrecked as he lets himself lose control. His head falls back, his hair splaying across his shoulders, long enough to have the ends dancing over your skin. The way he glistens with sweat makes him look damn near ethereal, with green markings accentuating his clenched jaw as he tries to draw out what he knows is coming to an end. 

The molten pleasure boiling in your belly finally spills over, running through your veins until every muscle is tensed in anticipation and then released with a shrieking cry, his feral snarl joining you as he spurts hot, thick ropes of cum into your cunt. 

It’s a moment of stillness as you both catch your breath, his grip loosening as he fucks his seed deeper, enjoying how easily his softening cock slips through your channel. You’re so sensitive it almost hurts, but you’re not ready to lose the weight and stretch of him inside of you just yet.

“You need to sleep, my love,” you coo as he pulls out, immediately walking off to get a warm cloth to clean you with.

“Mm,” he hums, wiping what’s leaking from your fucked out hole, “In a moment.”

When he curls up behind you, there’s no stopping how you turn and bury yourself in his chest. It’ll be harder this way when he has to leave, but you haven’t heard the steady beating of his heart in too long. He chuckles as he wraps you up tightly, tucking your head beneath his chin, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your bruised hip. 

It’ll be just a few hours, and as much as you want to stay awake and relish in this rare time, you can’t. Sleep finds you easily swaddled in his arms, the faint arid, earthy smell of him the most comforting scent. When you wake, you’re alone, not that you expected anything different. However, one thing that wasn’t there the night before catches your eye–a single Pecok flower in a vase.

A promise to return home.

[asoiaf-bambii]

𝔇eformed 𝔇og

summary: in a strained marriage of political convenience, you and Jacaerys Velaryon are often at odds. But when Jacaerys brings a small creature as a peace offering, something the ladies at court seemed to all enjoy, apart from his stubborn wife.

paring: jacaerys velaryon x reader

The sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon, casting the Red Keep in the soft hues of evening. The large stone walls of your chambers were bathed in the warm glow of flickering candles, but their gentle light did little to soothe the irritation that simmered just beneath your poised exterior. You sat on the edge of a chaise, your hands fidgeting with the intricate embroidery of your gown, your thoughts tangled in the heated exchange from weeks prior.

It wasn’t unusual for you and Jacaerys to argue. From the moment you were wed, it had been clear that your marriage was one of convenience, not affection. You, the daughter of a powerful magistrate from Pentos, had been brought into this foreign land with the expectation of securing an alliance. Jacaerys, heir to the Iron Throne, was burdened with the weight of responsibility and political machinations. Love, in this case, had never been part of the arrangement.

Your differences—cultural, personal, and otherwise—had been apparent from the start. Where you were bold, confident, and unapologetically sassy, Jacaerys was serious, driven by duty, and far too level-headed for your liking. You had been raised in the courts of Pentos, where wealth and power meant indulgence, and you had never been denied anything. The transition to life in Westeros had been jarring, to say the least.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you stared at the fire, the memory of your latest argument still fresh. It had been over something insignificant, as most of your disagreements were, but the wounds it left behind lingered. Jacaerys had tried to apologize, of course, sending flowers and trinkets to your chambers, but you had not been so easily swayed this time. You were stubborn, after all, and you were not one to let him off the hook that easily.

Just then, a knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could answer, the door creaked open, and Jacaerys stepped inside. In his arms was the strangest creature you had ever seen—a small, fluffy animal with large eyes and a squashed face. You narrowed your eyes at it, unsure whether it was meant to be some kind of dog or a rabbit.

“Is.. is that some sort of deformed bunny?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you state at the small mutt in the prince's arms.

Jacaerys’ smirk was apparent as he closed the door behind him. “A deformed bunny?” he teased, his voice rich with amusement. “I expected something more creative.”

You huffed and crossed your arms, refusing to meet his gaze. “I still think it looks more like a bunny than a dog,” you muttered, glancing at the animal in his arms. The creature gave a soft whine, wiggling its nose.

“I think you know very well that it’s a dog, and you’re just trying to annoy me,” Jacaerys countered, taking a few steps closer. There was a certain charm to the way he moved—graceful yet deliberate, as if he knew exactly how to play the game of diplomacy, even in your marriage.

When he reached you, he gently lifted the puppy toward you, but his other hand moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The intimate gesture caught you off guard, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you shot him a pointed glare, though your heart stuttered at the sudden closeness.

“Or,” Jacaerys continued, his tone softening slightly, “perhaps there are no small dogs in Essos? You might be unfamiliar.”

You snorted, finally allowing yourself to look at him. “We have dogs in Pentos, Jacaerys. Large, beautiful ones. Not whatever this is,” you motioned to the puppy, though there was no real bite in your words. The creature was, admittedly, quite adorable.

Jacaerys chuckled, setting the puppy down on the chaise beside you. “This is a gift. I thought it might cheer you up since flowers didn’t seem to do the trick.” His voice was sincere now, and though you were still annoyed, you couldn’t help but soften a little at the thought. He was trying, at least.

The puppy immediately wriggled toward you, its tiny paws tapping against the velvet of the chaise. It nuzzled into your side, letting out a soft whimper as if begging for attention. You stared down at it for a moment, then reached out to scratch behind its ears.

“You think this will fix everything?” you asked, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.

Jacaerys sighed, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. “No. I know it won’t. But I don’t like it when you’re angry with me.”

For a moment, you didn’t respond. The room was quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the soft sounds of the puppy. Your fingers continued to pet the small creature, and your eyes focused on the flames as you mulled over his words.

“I don’t like being angry with you either,” you admitted quietly, though the words felt foreign on your tongue. It wasn’t easy to admit vulnerability, especially not with him.

Jacaerys knelt in front of you, his brown eyes searching yours. “Then let’s stop fighting like this. I know we’ll never agree on everything, but I don’t want to spend our marriage at odds. We’re supposed to be a team, aren’t we?”

You raised an eyebrow, still hesitant to let go of your stubbornness completely. “A team?”

He nodded. “Yes. I know our marriage wasn’t exactly our choice, but that doesn’t mean it has to be miserable.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of something other than frustration toward him. Perhaps it was the honesty in his voice or the way he looked at you now, as if he truly wanted to bridge the gap between you.

With a sigh, you finally relented. “Fine,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “But next time, don’t bring me a deformed rabbit.”

Jacaerys grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile. “I’ll make a note of that.”

You reached for the puppy, lifting it into your lap as it licked your hand eagerly. “What is its name?” you asked, your tone now more playful.

“I thought I’d let you name it,” he replied, standing and moving to sit beside you on the chaise.

You hummed, considering for a moment. “How about... Bunny?”

Jacaerys groaned, though there was a laugh in his voice. “Of course you would.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased, replaced by a sense of camaraderie. You still had your differences, and you probably always would. But at that moment, with the puppy—Bunny—in your lap and Jacaerys beside you, the future didn’t seem so daunting. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage could become something more than just an arrangement. 

[llamagoddessofficial]

Can we get some Horror fae headcannons? I'm twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the big boyo to appear while I lose myself in your fae realms

Goodness, do try not to get lost. Though if you do get lost, he's certainly the one for you.

Quite similar to his non-fae self, really. Quiet, large, wild, bloodthirsty when required but completely unafraid to show his soft side to those he loves.

He does have a bit of a... 'reputation', in both realms. A reputation for being a frightening beast that you do not want to encounter out in the wastes.

Apparently, he did something unspeakable in Summer - banished from that court, he found himself immediately warmly welcomed into Nightmare's fray. He was one of the first of the Winter court.

He and Nightmare aren't exactly "friends", in the way Nightmare and Killer almost seem to be. But there's a certain degree of trust between Horror and Nightmare that just isn't there with anyone else. A level of mutual, unspoken understanding. They rarely talk to one another, but somehow, they seem to know each other very well.

(There seems to be some truth to the Summer rumours, given his absolute visceral hatred of even the word.)

Living in Nightmare's court means Horror has ample food. People are still scared of him, though.

Big fuzzy guy!! His wings are the biggest and softest out of anyone's; cuddling him will be like hiding in the thickest blanket imaginable. If you sit on his lap, you can pull his wings over you and fall asleep snuggled up like that. Rest assured, if you do that, you will never meet a happier skeleton.

Tricking you simply does not cross his mind. He's too slow with words for that kind of nonsense. If he wants to keep you forever, why does he need to steal your name? He'll just bake you the best pie you've ever had, that'll do it.

Or chase you down when you run. That works too.

Not good at telling you he likes you. He can show love just fine - gestures of devotion are part and parcel of who he is. But when it comes to the talking side of romance? An absolute wreck.

Killer helps. "hey, my buddy over there thinks you're cute," [points to the enormous shaking & sweating anxious monster who's unsuccessfully trying to hide behind a candelabra]

He tends to disappear for several days in a row, to go on long treks through the snow. They clear his mind. He probably knows the realm better than anyone alive. He would really like it if you came with, making you the first person to ever be invited along, but he doesn't mind if you don't want to go. He doesn't expect everyone to be interested in multi-day snow hikes.

(You could sit on his shoulders the whole way, though. In case that changes your mind. He'd also show you untouched natural wonders beyond comprehension. And he packs snacks)

His love language is bringing food back for you from his 'trips'. Baked salmon from the ice rivers, steaks of venison from the winter forests, slow-cooked rabbit from the plains, and on rare occasions bear stew from the mountains. If you're vegetarian it'd be good to tell him immediately because this will become a pattern.

He also likes making furs into clothes for you. For someone who struggles with shaking hands, he's surprisingly good with a needle and thread.

You'll never be cold, when he's around. And you'll never sleep alone.

[luvfy0dor]

Helloo! I love your blog smm! could I request fyodor with a child reader that’s very curious about things and often ask him about lots of things and do often run from his sight cause they saw something that peaks their interests? ^^ so sorry that this request was kinda long 😭

“But Satisfaction Brought It Back ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child! Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; none

Description; Fyodor brings curious child!reader to the park, but after being essentially exiled from the playground by some randos, reader sees something moving in the grass and chooses to investigate

A/n: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I FEEL AWFIL, I HIPW ITS ACCEPTABLE AT LEAST </3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENTS

Headcannons;

★ Fyodor loves that you're curious, but sometimes the amount of questions you ask makes him wonder if your jaw ever gets tired from moving so much. He knows you didn't get that trait from him.

★ If you run away from him, he's walking after you at the fastest speed possible for him. He warns you not to go far because his stamina doesn't allow him to chase after you, but you still do it and it gets on his nerves a little. He knows you don't mean to, but it stresses him out like no other.

★ He often lets Nikolai tag along when he brings you to do fun stuff just in case he ends up needing the extra hand, and Nikolais ability is always great to bring you back to them.

Scenario;

You had one hand in Nikolais and one in Fyodors, happily walking along with them through a park near your home on a beautiful spring afternoon. They decided to have tea together earlier and figured it was a nice day for an outing. They picked you up and brought you to the park and sat on a bench next to one another while you ran off to climb on the playground. It didn't take long for you to socialize, immediately interacting with a girl your age. "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the blue shirt. You're not allowed up here, you don't have the password." You looked at the girl with confusion, grimacing and crossing your arms. "Well it's not your playground, I'm allowed up here if I want to! My papa brought me to play and that's what I'm gonna do." You reply, your eyebrows furrowed and a visible pout on your face.

"That's too bad! Scurry along, you peasant!" She sneered. It made you want to cry a little, but you bit your lip and stormed off. A small group of kids who seemed to be apart of her posse watched. You huffed and went to sit with your papa and uncle, plopping down on the bench. Fyodor and Nikolai instantly picked up on your sad demeanor. "Aw, what's wrong, Malyshka? Are you alright?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back sweetly. You nodde d and leaned into him, making him frown. "C'mon, kiddo, I'll play with ya if you'd like! We're those other brats mean to you?" He asks, bending down to your level. You shook your head and rubbed the oncoming tears out of your eyes. "No, they weren't..I'll go play again in a second, I just fell." Nikolai stands back up and rubs your head. "Alright, if that's what you'd like." He returns to Fyodors side, resuming their conversation. Fyodors comforting hand remained on your shouder for awhile before you decided to get back up. "M'going to play again, papa." You declared, humbly walking back over to the playground and settling for the swings. You sat down and started swinging your legs back and forth, watching the nature around you. You weren't too high in the air before you saw a something moving through the grass across the park. You dragged your feet to come to a halt and walked away from the swing set.

The closer you got, you could tell that the moving thing was actually a large, brown rabbit. Your eyes widened with excitement and you approached it further, following it through a patch of brush. The rabbit noticed you and jumped further into the woods, over logs and rocks. You followed it continuously, stumbling over the aforementioned obstacles trying to reach it. It was about this time where Fyodor noticed that the swing was sitting nearly perfectly still without you on it and his eyes immediately darted around the playground. When he couldn't find you, he called out your name, drawing the attention of the attention of the other kids. "I think I saw someone go down there." The girl from earlier pointed towards the woods. Fyodor cursed under his breath and made his way towards the forest as quickly as possible with Nikolai. "Y/n! Come back here!" He called out for you, worried and annoyed all at once. You had successfully pounced on the bunny, holding it in your arms and heading towards Nikolai and your papa again. You had now been satisfied in catching the rodent, an innocent expression on your face when your papa came into view. The rabbit was squirming in your grasp, but you held him out to your father.

"Papa, Uncle Nikolai, look what I caught!" Fyodor let's out a sigh of relief but places a hand on your back and guides you back to the playground. "Let that filthy animal go, sweetheart, it's probably diseased, and you cannot keep running off like that! I was worried sick, don't do that ever again." He says, a hand over his heart. You reluctantly let the rabbit go, turning to watch it dash off. "I'm sorry papa.." you mumble, grabbing at his cape. He sighs. "It's not fine, but I'm more happy that I found you than I am angry at you." He says, Nikolai nods in agreement. You sigh in relief and go to sit down on the bench, but Fyodor pulls you right back up by your shirt, like a kitten by the scruff. "No, you're going home to wash those rodent germs off of your hands, and then you're gonna pick up your bedroom while your at it." He says. You groan and accept the light punishment he gave. "Yes papa..." You weren't to upset about it all in all, because he could have been harsher on you, especially since you've repeatedly done this, but instead he only wanted you to clean your room; leaving the park and those mean kids behind isnt a loss in the slightest.

A/n; again I'm so sorry if this is bad, I feel horrible for it being so late but I'm locking in on my reqs now yall istg

[efingart]

Fic request 🥺👉👈

In Bo6 they kind skated over Alder and Woods’ friendship and I wanna see more. Could you write a little fic of them interacting?

Hey anon! Thank you for this request!! 💙

This was so very interesting. Both of these guys have these huge emotional walls up. I imagine friends are a challenging thing for both of them to make and keep. Not exactly the type to talk about their emotions. Which is great I love when everything is just under the surface. I think I'd like to write another one of these from Adler's perspective to see how it goes.

Frank lit a cigarette and stared out at the dark water. He often took to doing this at night when the Safehouse began to quiet down. He thought about his team. Felix and Sev had been arguing earlier, but he could now hear their laughter travel from the kitchen. He was sure Troy was upstairs reading over a letter from Terry, working over his next move in their correspondence chess game. The same move he'd been mulling over before they had to cut and run. The soft sounds of the TV news must have meant Case was on the couch likely dozing off. The guy pushed himself too hard.

Frank stuck the cigarette between his lips and rubbed the tops of his knees or what was left of them. It had become a habit of his, one he didn’t like too much when he realized he was doing it. Reminded him of some of the old guys he had met over the years. Always talking about their aches and pains. He was sidelined sure, permanent desk duty yeah, but he didn’t feel like an old guy. Neither he nor Alex had ever seemed old to him. An ache clenched at his heart as he thought about Al. Al would never be an old guy. They would never be those crusty old vets sitting at the VFW drinking beers and talking about the good old times.

He pressed his thumb against one eye and reached across the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, the pad of his finger against his closed lid. He dragged his fingers across his skin bringing them together to pinch the bridge of his nose. Footsteps on stone behind him, he quickly moved his hand away from his eyes to pluck the cigarette from his mouth. He knew from the confident footfalls that it was Adler.

Adler already had a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He cradled a mug in one large hand which from the smell of it contained some of Felix’s stew.

“Figure out Felix’s mystery meat yet?” Frank joked. Adler stirred the contents with his spoon and inspected a white chunk. “Best guess is rabbit.” “Probably a good guess.” “Let’s just say I’m not about to ask him to confirm it.” Frank chuckled at that.

Adler tucked his cigarette between two fingers and picked up his spoon again. Steam trailed from the mug only to be quickly swept away by the sea breeze. The silence between them lasted until Frank’s cigarette was just a nub. He stubbed it out on the railing and flicked it away. Then he winced. Another bad habit. He remembered the last time he visited David the kid had given him a lecture about recycling and putting his cigarette butts in the trash instead of tossing them on the ground. He even showed Frank some cartoon about it. A blue guy fighting pollution… or something. If it made the kid happy he was willing to do it. He wondered if Adler's kids watched the same show. Adler certainly didn't care about where he tossed his old cigarette butts.

Adler finished his stew and went back inside without a word. Frank thought he was alone again, but before long Adler was back carrying two beers by the neck between his fingers. He handed one to Frank who popped the cap off against the railing and took a swig. Then he examined the label on the bottle. “Gotta clear our names so we can get back to the States and get some real beer.” Adler nodded and tapped the neck of his bottle to Frank’s. “Drink to that.”

A silence passed between them. That was one thing Frank liked about Adler- he never needed to just talk. He was comfortable with quiet. Some guys jabbered on and on. Talking about nothing. Filling the air with words so they wouldn’t have to sit with whatever they were dealing with in their heads. He tried to picture himself and Adler at the VFW sharing a beer and laughing about the old times. Maybe it’d happen. Never in a million years did he think it'd be the two of them that were left. Everyone else was gone, but not them.

“See you dusted that old thing off,” Adler said pointing with his beer hand at Frank’s bandana. It pulled him from his thoughts. He touched the cloth that covered his forehead.

“Yeah, helps me keep my head in the game… Or something.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Adler adjusting his sunglasses. He rarely ever took them off, even at night. Frank had always suspected they might be corrective. But either way, they all had their things. The objects that made them feel more like themselves. And maybe acted as a barrier between them and the rest of the world. It was how they could stay so tough in tricky situations. Keep their cool.

“Guys like us can never leave this.” “Nope,” Frank agreed. Adler cleared his throat before lighting another cigarette. He was always a chain smoker and, of course, most guys liked to have a cigarette with a beer. But he knew Adler well enough, worked with him long enough that even though he put up a front he had his tells. They were just harder to see in him than other people. Frank knew he was stalling.

“Something on your mind?” Adler let out a soft hah!. “Come on you’re not exactly as mysterious as you like to pretend.” Frank nudged Adler’s side with his elbow. He cleared his throat again. “Just wanted to say thanks,” Adler said more to the sea than to Frank. The confidence in his voice never faltered. Always the arrogant bastard. Frank had to admit he liked that about him too.

“For what?” Frank asked with a laugh. He knew the answer. Adler was grateful Frank believed him. Not just to help him, but it made a difference to know there was someone in the world who had his back. Even a guy like Adler needed that comfort sometimes.

“You’re not gonna start getting emotional on me are you?” He asked.

Adler chuckled in response. Then he stabbed out his cigarette on the railing and flicked it over the edge.

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[qqueenofhades]

Hi Hilary I know you’re only replying to so many politics asks — I can only imagine how many are sitting in your inbox rn — and you’ve already been such a comfort to all us folks who’ve really appreciated your insight time and time again! But I did want to ask about all the posts I’ve seen more recently about signing petitions and reaching out to the White House for a recount. I feel like at this point we’re really reaching — everyone’s talking about how there’s evidence suggesting cheating on Trump’s part, and while I would never be surprised by that, I have yet to see any trusted sources backing those claims. It feels like we’re long past that point, even though the results came in so much faster than I ever expected, but I was wondering if you have an opinion on all that? Take care in the meantime, and thank you for all that you do!

I will make this the last politics ask for the night, and hopefully for at least a few days (no promises, though), but --

This, most unfortunately, is not going to work. For one, Biden/the White House cannot request a recount in state-level races. There are strict rules governing who can and cannot request those, it's usually either triggered by a certain percentage margin or requested by the candidate, and then it also has to be paid for. Kamala has given her concession speech and the Democrats are not going to go down election-denialism rabbit holes. It is hugely unfortunate that the worst people in the world who launched a coup after losing last time are the ones to benefit from it, but... yeah. It just sucks all the way around.

The election interference happened on the day with all the Russian-linked fake bomb threats in blue areas of swing states, the ballot boxes set afire, etc etc. I fear we have only begun to see how bad it will be in this and any future elections, as with many other things, and the reports of people's ballots disappearing or not being received etc are obviously disturbing. But there is, as you say, scant evidence aside from social media chatter backing this up, people are angry and hurt and looking for something to make it not be real (me too, man) and that's easier than thinking that half the country simply shrugged and chose fascism because of grocery prices and trans panic. And it sucks absolute shit, but this is what happened. It happened broadly consistently across the country and was a symbol of the anti-incumbency that's been going on since Covid (New Zealand's liberal government also fell victim to this and elected reactionary conservatives, so this is a thing). We can split hairs about this or that policy decision by the Democrats, and believe me there needs to be a messaging revamp and the firing of basically every Democratic Corporate Consultant TM, but we need to face up to the truth that many, many ordinary American people chose this. They wanted it. And if we are going to do anything about it, we have to reckon with that fact instead of looking for conspiratorial excuses. For one thing, that's what those assholes do constantly, and fuck them.

Likewise, results came in across the country much faster due to the fact that people once more voted largely in person on Election Day, and not early/by mail as they did in 2020. They came in largely matching the expected timelines given by election officials of both parties beforehand. If there is basis to all this missing-ballot stuff, then yes, obviously, it should be investigated (though I have very low confidence that it will be if they are already making preparations to close the federal cases against Trump). But at this point, as you say, this is not something that has logistical legs and is going to undermine a lot more. It sucks. Sometimes I wish we didn't have to be the adults in the room and could just be whiny cheating shitstains like the Republican Fascist Party -- it seems to work out for them that people want Democratic policies and then elect Republicans to punish Democrats for not instantly and perfectly implementing all of them. The exit polls largely matched with what the results turned out to be. It absolutely sucks almighty shit, but it's true.

I am old enough to remember George W. Bush getting reelected in 2004, and it sucked, though not as much as this just because Trump is so crazy and extreme and the GOP has abandoned even the basic pretence of democracy and decency. It's a race to the bottom and through to the center of the earth for them now, especially since they have literally no incentive to reform or do anything but double down on their extremism. Why would they? They just won a major election and got popular legitimacy, something the Republicans have lacked for a long time. This is only the second time they've won the popular AND electoral vote (the first likewise being 2004) in the 21st century. We got the blue trifecta in 2020 because we benefited from the same desire for reversal of course that the Republicans are getting now. In and of itself, this does not indicate fraud. Terrible things about America and the future, yes, but not fraud.

So: Yes. We need to focus on the things we can control and prepare ourselves for what is still to come. It will be hard and it will suck and as I keep saying, it was completely avoidable, but people didn't want to avoid it. They're now going to learn painfully why they should have, but we can't do anything about that either. It is very much going to be a case of picking your battles, drastically limiting your daily news consumption, and a lot of other protective measures, and that is where, at least IMHO, we should focus our effort.

Take care. ❤️

[vinestaffery]

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

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

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

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

Someone was watching you, for all you know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And what must that be?" You questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

Her scorpion tail came back close to her once more.

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

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

"Fuck-.. where?"

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

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

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

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

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

She took it as an agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

That struck a nerve.

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

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

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

"...Any benefits?"

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

"Now, do we have a deal?"

Silence.

A long, period of silence.

"Well?"

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

"You best answer me, clock is ticking."

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

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

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

"One."

No Answer.

"Two."

No answer.

"THREE-"

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

...

"Good."

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

How they react to finding out you're an animal lover

Based on the actual Zoo's worth of pets, I acquired.

Let's assume somehow there's a scenario where the Hazbin Characters are able to see your life on earth, to review what might have gotten you sent to Hell. As far as most of them were concerned, you may have been chaotic, maybe you jumped to violence quickly (it's Hell though so defending yourself is important), maybe you drank or used drugs or slept around, but not to an extent that would warrant Hell.

And it's not that you aren't capable of being friendly or nice, but you're always wary of new people. You seem uncomfortable in large groups and tend to stick to people you know and unfortunately have Resting Bitch Face, so aren't very approachable.

So imagine their reaction to seeing your life and noticing from a young age your obsession with animals. You watched Animal Cops instead of Cartoons as a kid (and boy, your little brain sure got creative when imagining how best to punish [torture] animal abusers. Even Alastor's impressed by the level of violence). You begged and cried for a pet your whole childhood and did your best with the fish you got or the guinea pigs, though poor misinformation from adults and lack of proper husbandry being available in easily accessible media meant that your setups were....lackluster. And boy did you literally sob over that as an adult.

Every animal you met, horse, snake, cat, dog, rabbit, rodent, lizzard, frog, fish, they were all met with the brightest smile, a gentle cooing voice, happy baby talk, you getting on their level to coddle and and pet. The total opposite of your response to people.

Alastor

He's never been a big fan of dogs, especially after his death. But watching you with the numerous dogs you owned, the bond you shared with them, how they weren't perfectly trained but you tried so hard, and they all lived such long happy lives, he thinks he would have tolerated it. Especially your first dog, a small yappy thing that was wonderfully trained to do many tricks using just hand signals. Watching you shut down, breaking into billions of pieces when that dog died is probably the closest his smile has come to dropping.

Cats though, Alastor adored cats and you, despite being allergic, took in every feline in need. Even ones with health issues. You shelled out your hard earned cash left and right and the once ratty, crusty, scrawny, timid, strays blossomed into sleek, healthy, playful cats. He's going to laugh at all the curse words that arise from the various shenanigans that come with owning cats though.

As for your snakes, he's not phased. He isn't particularly fond of them, but he isn't scared either. But he could listen to you gush for hours about genetics, morphs, breeding, and proper set ups. He liked your bearded dragon though. Would get one for you if he could.

His favorite though was your rats. The quartet of rodents that were as smart as human toddlers and as likely to get in trouble. Watching you build and construct cardboard play structures, teach them tricks, feed them all sorts of fruits, veggies, meat, grains, insects. The constant cleaning and remodeling of their cage to entertain them. Oh you clearly adored them. Especially since they lived longer than their average 4 year expectancy by a whole year, with the exception of one rat that had been born ill but he still lived to by nearly 3!

All in all he just thinks you're precious, is amused by your entirely sincere and intensely violent response to abusers, and admires your caring nature and dedication (it reminds him of his ma, working hard to shell out every penny to ensure he thrived). He's probably considering getting you a pet.

Charlie

Heart eyes! You're so soft and cuddly with your pets! So patient with them, even when they're still adjusting, scared and prone to biting. You take every bite, scratch, hiss, growl, and in cases like snakes and turtles musking, in stride. Sure you flinch but your tone stays calm, you relax quickly, adjust your approach.

The way your eyes water and light up when the black cat with a stiff limp and crusted eyes, and swollen cheeks finally approaches you instead of hiding behind the water heater in your basement after you managed to trap it in indoors melts her heart. The way you have to visibly control yourself when you pet it for the first time and then finally lift him into your arms to take upstairs where the heat works and you aren't relying on a space heater and old blankets to warm him.

She's not thrilled about your violent tendencies, but they also remind her of Vaggie. Your protective and have strong feelings about injustice and she admires that.

She's definitely asking you to watch Kiki more often.

Angel Dust

Another proud pet parent! He gets you. Animals are so much easier than people. He loves watching you dress your pets that would tolerate it and take them to get pictures done, sending them to family members like you would send pictures of your kids. And hey, they essentially are! He's gonna ask you to dress up Fat Nuggets with him and do a photo shoot!

He's not a fan of rodents, but you're rats, and the hamsters were cute. He thinks he'd be ok with them if he met them, may even enjoy them.

Really liked watching your fish tank though once you got older and had more understanding and were able to set up a proper one. Even when things went wrong like algae blooms, fish fighting, your $35 betta beaching itself on your crabs basking platform, you were determined, and eventually you get a nice little live planted tank going that's mostly self sufficient and some fish that breed. You never quite mastered the algae issue, but it never overran your tank again, so he considers it a win. It's just cute watching you try so hard and dedicate so much time too it.

Lucifer

You're literally his spirit animal. He would rather be around animals than people, too. And honestly, you're right, animal abusers are the worst and he's probably taking notes from you on fitting punishments. He is trying to be more active as a ruler of Hell now.

He thinks you're incredibly smart for learning and memorizing so much about animals at such a young age and that you learn more as you get older, keeping up with proper care techniques. Kinda shocked you didn't become a vet, but also gets it. He doesn’t think he could handle having to let an animal down either. Or deal with stupid owners.

Gets heart eyes when he sees your obsession with snakes and is genuinely sad for you when your small collection of them dies off. Reptiles are hard, even professional keepers can have snakes die for seemingly no reason, so it's not anything you did, but it still sucks that within a 16 months you lost both your corn snakes and then a 8 or 9 months later your ball python.

He's the Serpent of Eden so anytime you had a snake draped around her neck, coiled around your wrist or arm, anytime they slithered under your shirt or up your pant leg while holding them is giving him inappropriate ideas. If you're someone with sensory stim needs and you loved the feeling of snake scales on your skin he'll offer to be one for a while (he's gonna go in your shirt and probably just coil around your waist or your chest, maybe rest his head on your shoulder peeking out of your shirt, blepping).

He's also sad that you can't see your beloved pets now since you're in Hell and it makes him even more bitter towards Heaven. Your beloved pets deserved to be reunited with an owner who gave them everything they could and you deserved to see the furry little wonders that got you through your darkest times. He can't imagine how much pain you were in when you realized you wouldn't see them again.

Is determined to get you a pet and find a way to reunite you with yours.

Husk

Was never big on pets before, but he thinks yours are cute. He may let you pet his ears more often now and be more comfortable purring around you. If it helps you feel better since it's obvious you miss your little furballs.

The entire time they're watching your life play out your eyes are glued to your pets, eyes misty, and smile adoring. It's more of a highlights reel so you're constantly babbling over it telling story after story. You mention how pissed you were tattoos didn't show up when you died because you had every pet you ever owned's (with the exception of ones you had really young), pawprint tatted on you when you died, staring with the rat tail and feet at your ankle and the top of your foot all the way up your leg, hip, side, so many of them it looked like a zoo walked across your body.

He misses having that kind of enthusiasm and devotion to something and admires you for being able to so deeply love and care for your pets despite what you've been through.

He maybe feels a little inspired himself to open up a bit more.

Vox

He grew up when a wife, two kids, a dog, and a white pickett fence was a standard, but you go beyond that. Animal care has gotten so much more detailed since he was alive. Aside from his sharks, especially Vark, he doesn’t really know much about pets, though.

He loves your commitment to trying to keep a fish tank, but he is going to critique you. He probably will get you one and help you set it up, a nice, moderately sized 50 gallon. It's something you two can bond over.

Watching you step between two dogs about to get into a fight because their owners were drinking at the dog park and didn't pay attention nearly gives him a stroke though. But you effortlessly snag an 80 pound mutt and lift them up and pivot, using your arms and legs to corral that dog back towards the fence and keep yourself between them while someone else snags the other dog. Once both dogs can't see each other anymore and you have effectively redirected their attention to the treats you brought, using a stern, sharp voice to direct it to sit, the dogs settle. He can visibly see you seething as the guy gets up, uncaring, and leashes his dog to leave the park.

Also thinks it adorable when watches you pull over and dart across a highway to get a turtle out of the road. Or to get a baby bird out of the street once it's been pushed from the nest. Watches you circle back to watch dogs you see wandering the neighborhood to see if they're lost. You approaching gently and sweetly, not even remotely upset when they startle and you nearly get bit. You apologized to the dog for spooking it.

Really, he just thinks you're cute and have no self-preservation and doesn't think a dog or cat would do well in the tower, but lizzards and fish are ok, and you two bond over the fish tank.

Valentino

So if that whole thing about him getting one of the little insect dogs and then shooting it within a day thing is still canon, he's probably lowkey afraid for his life right now. There's just something about watching an year old version of you say you might wanna be an animal cop so you can shoot bad people with such a serious face. Listening to teenage you threaten two boys who had joked about pouring chemicals on a cat with jamming an anti-freeze bottle down their throats and water board them with it. Or offer to toss puppy mill breeders in a cage too small, no ac, no heat, no food, no water, naked and in their own filth while walk by them every day. He can't even repeat the threats you made against dog fighters or cock fighters. He's pretty sure Satan, prince of Wrath himself, is scared of you. How does a 13 year old come up with shit that twisted?! Like maybe you're in Hell for a reason you fucking psycho.

But! Assuming that's not true, I think Valentino wants to be a cat person. He thinks they're elegant and fashionable. But watching yours he realizes if you're lucky they're snuggly, mischievous, trouble makers who even without trying can and will fuck shit up. If you're not lucky, their terrorists that get into everything, bite you for attention then run off when you pet them, get hair everywhere, are literally so fucking messy, and somehow are both incredibly smart and incredibly stupid. Like smart enough to open doors and drawers and plastic treat containers, dumb enough to run into a window or jump in the dryer.

Honestly, he is shocked to learn that he's a snake/rodent kinda guy. Literally, the snakes are so pretty, have such smooth textures, and yeah, they can be derpy, but he thinks they're kinda hot. Like the image of you, the four-foot ball python draped around your neck and chest. Or some of your bigger five and six foot snakes. He likes the idea of maybe doing like a naked photo shoot with the snake wrapped around you. (HE AND LUCIFER SHOULD NOT SHARE KINKS BUT HERE WE ARE).

Personality wise, hyper, gets into things he shouldn't, bored easily, needs attention or gets depressed and stressed, too smart for his own good but too dumb to get himself out of trouble. This man is a rat/ferret. Whatever irony made him a moth demon is dumb. He would have adored the little fuckers. Maybe not by himself, he doesn’t have the time or attention span to dedicate to them alone, but with your help caring for them and playing with them, he'd be great.

In general I don't think Val is the kinda of person who would get a pet for himself or should have one, but if you're helping and it makes you happy he'll do it. He got Angel one after all.

[yelenasdiary]

Forbidden || Chapter I - Welcome To Blisswater

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Bishop! Reader.

Summary: Just outside of the small town of Blisswater, lives two young sisters, Kate & Y/n Bishop. It's hard not to know who the Bishops are, Kate is the eldest by a year. She is a beautiful young woman, smart, protective and is known to have a talent in using a bow. Y/n, she is shy but quiet as some would say but nevertheless, she holds her own talents and can often be seen tending to the animals of Bishop Ranch. One evening while Kate is out hunting to make some money, Y/n is surprised with an unwanted guest, Yelena Belova. A bounty Hunter from Drybellow who has taken shelter in the young Bishop's barn after being wounded from a gun fight.

Struggling to keep money following, Y/n has no choice but to take the bounty hunter's offer of $5 a day if she is able to help the woman recover. During Yelena's stay, the two grow closer, a little too close if the wrong pair of eyes were to see them.

| No Warnings, I don’t think? | 3.6K |

Forbidden Masterlist

"I'm leaving Lucky here with you" Kate, my older sister said as she entered the dining room, "I'll be gone for a least two days at the most. Will you be okay to handle things here?" she asked. A few, long months ago, our parents went on a business trip and are yet to return. Kate and I have been left to run the ranch and keep money flowing until they return, although we haven't heard from them, not even a single letter. My worries for them are endless. "Of course, I will be" I smiled before taking a mouthful of the porridge I made for us. 

"Do you need anything from town before I go?" she asked while putting her bowl in the sink for me to wash later, "no, I think we have everything we need. Just be safe, please" I looked to her. "Always, rabbit" she smiled. Kate has always called me rabbit, ever since we were younger. It comes from when my adult teeth were still coming through, they reminded her of a rabbit's front teeth when they would nibble on their food. "I'm just going to go get Arrow saddled up then I'll be on my way" she added before walking out the back door.

I'm used to Kate leaving for a day or two, she goes off hunting for us while I tend to the ranch. We have 3 cows, 5 pigs and 6 sheep! All of which have names of their own, of course. I've been saving some money to buy a couple of chickens so we can have our own fresh eggs. My father said we'd get some but that was before he and mother left on their trip. Today seems like it will be an easy day, feed the animals then off to the general store for my shift. 

"Alright, you know the rules" Kate spoke as she returned from saddling up Arrow, "father's rifle is in the case under your bed and please, don't let any of those wandering men stay too long! You can't trust everybody just because they say they've had a long day" she adds. "Yes, I know! You don't need to remind of that every single time, it was just once. Besides, Mr Lang has some very interesting stories to tell" I replied. I wish Mr Lang would return; his stories were almost unbelievable. 

"I guess I don't need to remind you to get some more coffee and canned peaches after your shift then?" Kate rolled her eyes at me as she tucked a few canned goods into her saddle bag. "You just did" I replied, sarcastically. "Let's go Lucky! We don't want to be late" I patted my right thigh after placing my used bowl in the sink for laters problem. "Hey!" Kate stopped me just as I was leaving the kitchen, "be safe, okay? If you need anything Mr Barnes is only a call away" she reminds me, again! 

We have a bell that Kate brought, it's rather large. I am to ring it if I'm in any trouble and Mr Barnes, the Salon owner, will come over and see what the matter is. Im not exactly sure how he's able to hear the ringing sound from so far away, we've done a couple of test runs and so far I haven't had the need to use it. 

"Yeah yeah, how about you be safe? I can't do everything around here if you go missing too!" I smiled softly at my older sister, she knows I'm joking. If anything were to happen to her, she knows I'd be okay…I guess. 

Lucky follows me around everywhere, especially when Kate goes off on her hunt. He'll come to the general store and wait outside by the door until I've finished my duties. Mr Wilson doesn't mind, he loves Lucky and even asked Aunt May to bake some of her famous cookies that everybody in town loves, she makes a little extra and dog friendly ones for Lucky. Everybody calls her Aunt May, not really sure why though, I think it's because she's such an aunt to everybody. Almost like a grandma that cooks everybody's favorite treats for the tea party.

The walk to town is always peaceful. In the warmer seasons, it can be rather hot but on days like today when the sun is just starting to peek over the mountains from afar, the wind isn't too cold and the birds sing their morning song, it's relaxing and maybe I tend to take smaller steps just to soak up the morning fresh air before I stay inside for most of it. 

"Good morning young Y/n!" A rather tall and very muscular man smiles to me, it's Thor. Nobody actually knows why his name is Thor, considering it's a very unusual name but he's very lovely. "Good morning, Thor! Keeping well I see" I replied with a friendly smile as Lucky and I slowly make our way past the Salon. "Oh, you know me! Can't resist the great liquor that is served here" the most likely drunken man chuckles. It's barely 7am and he is drinking. I guess that's a hobby for most people around here. 

Blisswater isn't a town for much entertainment, you have your basics. The Saloon ran and owned by Mr Barnes, the General store ran and owned by Mr Wilson, the doctors office with the only doctor within miles, Mr Banner. The gunsmith, Mr Barton owns and supplies Kate with discounts on arrows and sometimes ammunition for us. Mr Fury is the towns barber, my father wasn't a fan of him but when he was desperate for a cut, he had no choice but to see him. Then there's Sheriff Rogers, T'Challa the friendly banker, Peter the newspaper boy (by the way, he's love for me isn't exactly a secret!) and Mr Quill is the towns blacksmith. 

So that's all there really is to know about who lives in and around Blisswater, it's a small town. A town where everybody knows everybody, and word travels faster than you can blink! We all look out for each other here and most don't take kindly to newcomers. Sometimes we have outlaw gangs come passing through, they spend the night at the Saloon, get drunk and make a mess of themselves before pushing on by the afternoon. The walk-through town the following morning is usually a sight of Mr Barnes boarding up the windows of the Saloon from their drunken fights. 

The bell rings loudly as I open the door of the general store, and I'm greeted with Mr Wilson's warm and welcoming smile. "Good morning, Mr Wilson!" I smiled. 

"Please, Y/n, call me Sam! I've known you long enough" he chuckles before reaching down behind the counter for the plate of Aunt May's famous cookies. 

"I'm sorry, it's habit! I see Aunt May has come early this morning" I wandered up to the counter taking one delicious treat. "Lucky's biscuits are back here as well; did you bring him this morning?" Mr Wilson, I mean, Sam asked. "Of course! Kate is out today and left him all to me" I took a small bite out of the homemade goodness. "Parents off again?" he questioned, I nodded lightly. I miss them so much. 

"Well, I've got the perfect job to keep your mind distracted. How about you watch the store today?"  

"Alone? Me? Are you sure?" I asked with a mouth full of cookie. 

"Yeah, I have a couple of things that need my urge attention. I wasn't going to open today but I think you're ready for this. What do you say? You can even bring Lucky inside if you want" Sam smiled proudly. I thought about it for a moment while I finished my morning treat, it can't be that hard, right?

"Sure! I can hold the fort as they say" I replied with a smile, wiping the crumbs from my lips with the back of my hand. 

"I'll be back before closing, earlier I can. If you need anything, slip out the back door. I don't need to tell you this, I know" he chuckled, "Bucky will be around if you need anything" he assures me. I guess that's the handy thing about having your store next door to a saloon. "You're starting to sound like Kate!! I'll be fine, I have Lucky! What's the worst that could happen?" I raised a brow. 

"Right" my boss smirked, "well you already know where the stock deliveries are, and you know your main duties. Just don't leave the store unattended" he reminds me, I playfully rolled my eyes at him as he stepped away from the counter. "Stop stressing, Sam, the store will be fine. Go do what it is that you need to do" I hoped the door, patting my thigh for Lucky to enter.

Mr Wilson left as Lucky made himself welcome in the store, I closed the door and treated Lucky to his own biscuit before starting to restock the shelves. 

——

"Good afternoon, Y/n!" A familiar voice sings louder than the bell as the door fly’s open. "Peter! How are you?" I smiled softly as I was greeted with a smile of his own. "Oh you know how it is, busy busy!" He chuckles, "I ran into Mr Wilson earlier, he mentioned you were here alone today so I thought I'd come by and see if you, uh, needed anything" he adds. A hint of red fills his cheeks while his eyes struggle to stay connected to mine. 

It's no secret that young Peter Parker has a crush on me, the entire town knows it. Although he is a very sweet young gentleman, I guess I've just never found myself interested in him in a romantic manner. In fact, I've never really thought about anybody in a romantic manner now to think of it…

"You're very sweet, Peter. Thank you but things are pretty good. I've had no troubles today and please, thank your Aunt May for the cookies and Lucky's treats!"

"Oh, you're welcome! You know Aunt May, always baking" Peter chuckles once more. I could sense a hint of nerves in his voice and the redness in his cheeks grew deeper. "Peter, is everything okay? Do you need a drink? Some water?" I asked with a concerned frown. "No, no. I'm more than fine, thank you. It's just, it's getting a bit wild out there and I thought I'd walk you home later when you're finished here. Don't want you getting sick or anything" he gives me another soft smile. 

"It's meant to rain?" My frown only grew bigger as I looked out the window. Dark gray skys covered the town and beyond, distant flashes of lighting lit up the darkness for a moment. Wind blew the dry leafs onto the Main Street, horses stomped their hoofs with every crack of thunder that could be heard from the far, far distance. 

"Well shoot!" I sighed.

"Did Mr Wilson tell you when he'd be back?" Peter asked. 

"Sure hope it is soon, I have the animals I should move into the barn before the storm arrives" 

"It doesn't seem like it is far off. Maybe I could watch the store for you? I wouldn't mind at all" 

"You're very kind, Peter but I'm not sure if Mr Wilson would appreciate me leaving the store in somebody else's hands. I know you wouldn't ruin the place or steal from him but he is trusting me today and I don't want him to think otherwise" I explained as I watched the dark clouds darken, it'll be a big storm by the looks. 

"I'd be more than happy to make sure your stock is in the barn then" he offered, I turned to him and kindly shook my head. "I'm sure Mr Wilson will be back soon. Thank you again Peter, you're very kind. If you don't mind, there's a few things I should really get done before Mr Wilson returns" I smiled softly, hoping not to have hurt the boy's feelings.

"I plan on having supper at the Saloon, if you need me, I'll be there" Peter smiles before leaving the store. 

For the rest of the afternoon, I cleaned the store and did some stock take and made sure the store was exactly how Mr Wilson would like to have it when he returns and just my luck, he returns before the storm hammers down. 

"Y/n, thank you for all your help today!" He walks into the store, placing his hat on the  coat rack. He looked rather dirty; a nice bath would be in order for when he gets home if I didn't know better.

"You're welcome, Mr Wilson! I'm sorry to leave in a rush but I really need to be getting home before the rain starts" I grabbed my things, Lucky following closely behind me. 

"Of course, you best be safe now" 

I rushed out of the store, glad the rain hadn't started pouring down as yet but it was coming. You could smell it, the thunder got louder, the lighting got closer and the wind got stronger. The main street was quiet as people already began to make their way indoors until the storm pushed over. 

"Come on, Lucky! We haven't got much time!" I patted my thigh lightly before Lucky and I began to race home. 

——

The rain soaked the dry ground as expected and Lucky and I were able to get the animals into the barn before it came down heavy. I left a lantern in the barn just so I could keep an eye on it from the house, Kate hates when I do that, says it's a waste of resources but she'll thank me one day for it. 

"How long do you think she'll be this time Lucky?" I looked towards him as we both rested by the fire. He tilts his head at me as if he truly understands what I am saying. We listen to the rain dance on the roof and wind whistle outside while the fire cracks and keeps us warm. It's nights like this that I wish Kate wouldn't go off hunting, it's most lonely at night. But I know we need the money, just until mother and father come home.

"Come Lucky, let's check the barn" I stood up from my mothers rocking chair, and wandered over to the window. A frown creeps upon my brows when I notice the lantern, I left behind earlier in the night was gone. I rushed to my room and grabbed the rifle under my bed, grabbed my father's thick coat, a lantern and headed for the backdoor with Lucky right beside me. It was only a short walk from the house to the barn, but the rain was quick to soak me in its gift to the ranchers. Slowly, I pushed the large wooden door open, my rifle tightly in my grip. Lucky entered first, sniffing the ground for anything that didn't belong while I slowly followed behind him, one foot after another. 

Only a few steps in and I saw the lantern I had left behind, in the corner where Kate's horse would've been stabled. "Come out! I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it!" I called out, keeping my distance. Lucky walked quickly over to the empty stable slot, growling. "I said come out!" I repeated. 

"Don't shoot" a thick Russian accent came from the corner of the barn, "I won't hurt you, just call off the dog, please" the unknown voice added. 

"How can I trust you? You're a stranger in my barn! I have every right to shoot you" 

"Trust me, if I were here to harm you, you'd already be dead"

I took a few small steps closer to them, Lucky stood his ground and continued to growl. I wasn't going to tell him to back off just yet. "What are you doing here? Do you always just welcome yourself into other people's properties like this?" I asked. 

"You ask too many questions" the voice replied, "call the dog off, please" they asked once more. 

"Lucky, back!" I called once I laid my eyes on the intruder. A young woman, maybe no older than me. Blonde hair that was braided and she certainly didn't seem to dress how most women dress. Beside her was her gun belt and holster, her hat placed freely beside them. The woman was covered in blood, her right hand pressed tightly against her left shoulder. "You're hurt" you spoke softly while keeping my rifle pointed at her.

She chewed her bottom lip and nodded, "I'll be gone by morning, I just need a place to stay for the night"  

"How can I trust your word?" I asked. The woman smirked like I had just made a joke, an odd joke if my question was funny to her. 

"I know better than to kill a rich small-town girl" she replies causing me to frown at her words. 

"I am not rich girl. So, if you planned on robbing me later, you would find nothing, I can assure you of that" 

She chuckled, "well, maybe not rich but you are well off than others. Besides, I have no interest in robbing homesteads" 

"You know nothing about me" I snapped, pointing my rifle at her a little higher, aiming for her head. "Get off my property!" I demanded. Lucky growled once more, showing the unknown intruder his sharp canine teeth. 

"Maybe we could come to a deal. It seems money is a touchy subject to you, yes?" The blonde hissed in pain when she moved her right hand even the slightest inch. I didn't reply, my eyes were drawn to the amount of blood her hand was covered in. "I'll pay you" she spoke, gaining my attention once more, "$5 a day. If you help me. I'll give you the first three days right now if I could move my hand but as you can see, if I do that, I will bleed out" she offers. 

"Once I have recovered you will never see of me again, I give you my word" she adds. $5 a day would really help Kate and I and by the looks of her wound, she could be here for weeks. "I know you're thinking about it but I do not have time for you to think" her thick Russian accent brings me out of my thoughts, I nodded as I slowly lowered my rifle. 

"We best get you to the house then" 

----

"I'm sorry if that hurt" I spoke softly to the blonde as I bandaged her up, after pulling the bullet from her wound and cleaning the area with alcohol, she suggested cauterizing the wound with a lit candle. The smell of burning flesh is something I will never forget. "Don't stress, I've experienced worse" she looked to me with a soft smile. 

"How did this happen anyway?" I asked as I started to clean up the mess. I offered the woman my room until she was back on her feet, and I hoped Kate wouldn't have noticed when she came home. 

"Just a little miss understanding with an outlaw. I'm a bounty hunter" she informs me. 

"A bounty hunter? That's a little strange for a woman to be doing"

"Well, sometimes women just do a job better" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's not often I meet women who aren't following the rules of society" My eyes dropped, I knew my comment offended her. 

"You should travel more; you'd be surprised on what or whom you might come across. What's your name?" She pulled the covers up over her, making herself comfortable on my bed. 

"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine" I looked to her once more. She chuckled, "I'm Yelena, Yelena Belova. Your turn" she replies. I walked towards the bedroom door, my hands full of rubbish from cleaning her wound, "I'm Y/n, Y/n Bishop. I'll get you some water" 

"Bishop" Yelena repeated, "your father is Derek Bishop?" she questioned. I nodded slowly, "you know him?" I asked. Yelena shook her head, "no, just heard of him in passing. Water would be great, thank you" she watched as I walked out of the room. Her tone made me question if she was telling the truth; did she know my father? Maybe she knew where my parents were?

Lucky followed me to the kitchen, I grabbed two cups of water and returned to my bedroom, placing one glass on the wooden beside table next to my lantern. "You should get some rest; I'll make breakfast in the morning" I looked to Yelena who reached for her coat that sat at the end of the bed. "As promised, the first three days" she says before handing me $15 dollars in 1 ten-dollar bill and a 5 dollar bill. 

"T-thank you" I smiled softly, "do you like coffee? I could make some in the morning" I asked. 

"Never start the day without one" she smiled, "goodnight, Y/n" she added. 

"Goodnight" I walked towards the door, "oh, I hope you don't mind" I turned to face the blonde stranger once more, "I'm going to lock the door, you know…for safety" I added nervously. 

"I thought you would. I understand, I need to gain your trust" she nodded slightly. 

"If you need anything, just call out. I won't be far" 

"Thank you, again" Yelena smiled once more before I closed the door, making sure it was locked before making my way to Kate's room.

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[heartfullofleeches]

Hopping Ship

Yan Rival Restaurant Mascot + G.N Reader + Yan Restaurant Entities

Slow day....

Right in the middle of lunch hour too-

Scarce to see the restaurant so empty like this nowadays. After starting the new shift, you genuinely began to ponder if you'd finally lost your hearing due to the one-sided shouting matches from customers before realizing there had been a single since you clocked in and the silence surrounding you was very much real.

With so much free time, you finally got around to completing some tasks you'd be putting on the back burner for a while and a few you picked up while the janitor was out on personal business. They were gone every other week of the month, but you stopped wondering where they went after seeing them crawl into a black van one night after closing shit. It's impolite to watch coworkers who appear to be wearing your missing coat drag trash bags into unmarked vehicles after midnight.

You swept the floors, decorated the back office with some of the flowers the mascot left you and read a couple of their letters, created a sign out for the bathroom succubus to please at least put a towel beneath the door when she went on of her many "mandatory smoke breaks", and other duties which staked your claim as the establishment's most valued, living employee - all accommodating in the treat you rewarded yourself with once your break rolled around.

Sitted at the back of the fridge, behind the cooler you kept your gifted deer kidneys from the crying figure in the woods - a single fruit cup shined in all its syrupy glory. You tended to avoid eating coworkers food until their names appeared in the papers, but this little delight was stapled with a friendly letter for whoever came across it.

"For you~ (yes, the one reading this)"

That in itself should've been warning enough, but you were too hungry to care and not really in the mood for greasy fast food or ice cream from a bastard ghost. It was the perfect snack. Tiered with fruits representing all colors of the rainbow separated by rich, fluffy cream you assumed to be whipped frosting or some type of yogurt.

Snagging the cup and a spoon from the dispensery, you head back to the front to eat just in case anyone shows up. First bite in and you immediately notice something off about what you've just willingly ingested. What should've a sweet, succulent strawberry tasted exactly like strawberry cheesecake. The creaminess of its taste compared to its snappy texture threw you off entirely. You nibbled on an apple slice which tasted just like pie. Not exactly what you were going for, but you needed something on your stomach. Mindlessly chewing away, a faint hiss comes from beneath the counter.

"Psssst."

Must be another gas leak.

"Y/n - down here!"

You almost wish it had.

Peering underneath, you make contact with the frantic eyes of a former coworker. His face was caked in mud and his lips cracked from the clear signs of dehydration. You grab a cup of water from the soda machine which he near inhales, plastic and all. You take your seat back at the counter, poking around at your cup. "Hey, Noah. What happened to you last we I thought you the storyteller told you to go get lost in the forest and get eaten by bears."

"I was a boyscout growing up and all the predator animals in this area are dead. Get down - it'll see you!"

"What will?"

He tugs on your sleeve. "The rabbit thing that's been throwing everyone into that van! It's right outside!"

"Mm?"

Sucking a cube of peach cobbler off your spoon - you you peer outsife where another mascot stood - gloved hand extended a with flyer to the customer approaching the the door. The anthropomorphic rabbit was dressed in a red and white hybrid of a nurse gown and a 50s waitress outfit down to the pastel skates it wore on its large feet.. When the customer ignores the paper and went out of their way to walk around the strange figure, the creature dropped the flyer as it clasped its hand around their neck and hurls them into the open van beside it. Slamming the door on their ankle - the rabbit suddenly bends backwards with an audible crack facing the register as its ears dangle at its feet, waving at you with its Cheshire grin. You chase a grape around the container with your spoon.

"They seem friendly."

Noah pulls harder on your clothes. "Quiet! We need to call the police."

"Mmm... nah, they never respond to any of our calls anyway."

He groans into his hands. "Ughh- Ojay, we'll figure something out - just, don't make look that thing in the eye.

Bit too late for that.

The rabbit mascot had scaled the restaurant floor in about the same time it too you to swallow the bland frosting that served as a palate cleaner for the tooth rotting sweetness. It contorts to match your height, button nose inches from yours.

"Hello, hello, he-llo - where have you been hiding?~ I was looking for you. "

".... Hey, Noah? Can you actually try the police to see if they'll show up this time?"

The rabbit chuckles. "Funny too. I knew you were a catch from the second I laid eyes on you. That's why I had to make sure our first meeting was special and there were no..." Its eyes fall to the counter." prying eyes... Anywho! Did you enjoy the fruits I left for you?"

You shrug, mouth full of sugary melon. "I guess."

"Fantastic! Those at my establishment prioritize a healthy, and tasty lifestyle. I certainly hope you don't mind us treading on your territory, but it was the only spot in town fit for our dream. If all things go according to plan, you won't have to worry about the competition at all! Onto my big question - would you care to join our team? An experienced crewmate like yourself is just what we need and if you start this afternoon - I'll even make you manager! Even deal, wouldn't you say?"

"....not really."

"Great!-...." Its ears fall flat against its skill. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I kinda like it here. Bring manager sounds like I'd have to do more work than I do now, and the the ball pit is a big factor to why I stay.

Soft clapping sounds from the play area. Confused, he mascot looks between your face and your half eaten cup. "Are you sure?"

You shrug again. "Pretty sure I am."

"Maybe take another bite and think about it harder?"

LYou shove the remaining bits of fruit in your mouth, using the time to chew as your grace period. "Positive."

"I see...." The rabbit's whiskers twitch as it snaps back to full height, spinning on their wheels towards the door. "No matter. I will be back for you another day with an offer you won't be able to refuse. Until then."

You look at the floor as they skate away. "I think it's leaving, Noah.... Noah?"

"Help me!"

You glance back up in time to see Noah being dragged outside and flung into the van as his captor grumbles something about just using sleeping pills next time. You official cross him off the schedule as you throw the cup away.

"If they'd just offer me their skates - I probably would've said yes."

You lick the spoon clsan as the ice cream machine whirls to life.

"Cheater!"

"Oh shut up."

[kedreeva]

Eris (top), Citrine (middle), and Bismuth (bottom).

What you can notice here is the same thing I'm usually on about- leg length in peafowl. These three birds share a father, and the latter two share a mother as well. Eris was hatched and raised for the first 3 months of her life on a farm that was using a low-protein chow (18-20%, with peanuts for treats, but they're feeding better now!) and kept here in quarantine in a 10x10 for the next month (we're working on a bigger quarantine pen), vs Citrine and Bismuth being raised here on 28% + fresh foods and scratch grains in a 1200ft+coop pen. I don't think that there's anything wrong with Eris' genetics (I've seen her mother, too, and I would be highly surprised if she produced short birds), but this is a PRIME example of how early care can affect these birds for their entire lives.

I have gotten into far too many arguments with people about peafowl care and nutrition. I hear parroted all the time that "high protein twists their legs" when that's 100% not the case. It's not the protein alone. They NEED the protein to grow appropriately. But they ALSO need the SPACE to grow out properly. When people keep them in tiny spaces (brooders, rabbit hutches, 10x10 "run") AND feed them high protein, they have the protein to grow but not the space. When people keep them in large spaces but DON'T give them enough protein, they have the space but not the resources to grow into their legs. I've seen people keep these birds in rabbit hutches until they are 3+ months old. I have seen people keep breeding adult TRIOS in 10x10 cages- the minimum space requirement for them is supposed to be *500* square feet for that many. Once they grow up in that small of a space, there's no recovering from it later in life. They won't ever put on more leg length.

Another thing I want to speak about is tail shape. There are many people online who will tell people bogus ways to sex young birds (particularly whites). Barring/no barring by 3 months (Spaldings can keep it longer, some over a year), spurs/no spurs (plenty of hens have spurs), leg length (a nice hen will have long legs, too), leg thickness (a domestic blue hen will have thick legs, too), chest/neck lacing (I have seen males with this as well), face shape (come on now), "center stripe" chest feathers on males (hens can have this too). There's a lady on FB who thinks she can vent sex peafowl (you cannot, their reproductive junk is too far inside the body).

One of the ways people claim to sex birds on is tail shape. Girls will have an even tail arch, like Eris up there, and boys will have middle feathers on their tail that are taller than the ones to either side.

Except... if Citrine were a white bird with no feather markings, that would get her sexed as a male.

While it's TRUE that ADULT females have a crescent tail and males have a spade tail, until they are 2+, hens can still have the same kind of tail as the males. They're dropping so many feathers so fast as they grow, it can look like anything along the way, and by the time it stabilizes into a proper yearly molt schedule, the male's train feathers will have begin to differentiate.

The most accurate way to sex baby peafowl is blood/DNA sexing, or the LOSS of barring on the backs/wings. Barred wing males do not EVER lose their barring. For solid wing birds, it's blood/DNA sexing or looking for the arrow feathers; hens do not EVER get arrow feathers in their saddles. Anyone that ever tells you otherwise IS guessing- they might be very good at guessing, and some of the stuff it's unusual to see the opposite sex have whatever characteristic (it's /unusual/ for males to have scalloping on their neck, but it CAN happen when they're young), but it's still a best guess until you see a loss of barring or the presence of arrow feathers.

Citrine, by the way, kept her barring til she was almost 6 months old.

[lou-struck]

Cookieballism

Beelzebub x reader

W.C. 1.7k

~ You heard the House of Lamination has received a very special delivery from a certain little angel, but someone else finds it first.

Beel is starving… Like usual. 

Fangol practice was tougher than normal for the Demon because today, he only had enough time to eat his breakfast, half of Belphie's, lunch number one, lunch number two, a tray of tea cakes Barbatos left out in the student council room, a few of his emergency snacks, and a protein shake today. 

His large feet crunch the pavement as the chilly air pickles his chin, "It's soup weather…" he murmurs, his mouth watering as he remembers the tasty cream of Basilisk soup you made for him the other day. Thinking of you, the sixthborn begins to worry about how you are faring in this weather.

Did you remember to wear a jacket?

His worry fades away as an idea sneaks its way to the forefront of his mind. If you are cold, the two of you should warm up with some hot chocolate by the fireplace; after that, maybe you could eat a light snack before dinner.

Maybe a pot of soup

Some Buffo egg fondue…

Mmnnn or some honey-glazed basilisk…

His drool splatters on the stone steps as he climbs, but when he gets to the front door, he notices a small, delightful scent coming from a carefully wrapped platter. Crouching down, his heart skips a beat when he sees that the platter is holding some freshly baked cookies. 

Anyone else would wonder about the origins of the mysterious cookies, especially after all the wacky rabbit holes of subplots that enchanted food has sent these demons on in the last few years, but not Beel. 

He is far too hungry to think of trivial things, such as the origins of mysterious treats. He picks up the platter and carries it inside, dumping his gym bag on the floor next to the coat rack. Lucifer may scold him later, but he doesn't really care about that right now. 

Setting the tray on the platter, he peels off the clear plastic wrap, revealing the carefully frosted gingerbread cookies, each one looking familiarly distinct, but Beel can only focus on the smell; the treats have a similar scent to Barbatos' recipe but are slightly different. 

The nostalgic scent brings a smile to the Demon's face as he recalls the Life-sized gingerbread village the butler had baked for the Palace's Christmas party last year. The baked goods looked almost too good to eat, so many of the guests left it alone, thinking it was decoration, which meant Beel got to go home with all the leftovers. 

Just the sweet memory alone is enough to have him reaching for the first cookie; he barely has time to notice the piped-on leather jacket, sunglasses, and white frosted head as he takes a gluttonous bite. 

It's deliciously sweet with just enough spice that has him reaching for another. 

And another

And another

He is having a wonderful time with the treats until he picks up one that looks a bit more detailed than the others; with his hunger satiated just a bit, he really takes in the details of this particular cookie: its bright eyes, warm smile, perfectly piped RAD uniform. 

"It's funny," he muses aloud, wiping some crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "This cookie almost looks like…"

Oh No….

~

The little brass bell on the Tea Shop's door chimes as you exit. After waking up with a little case of the seasonal sniffles, you decided to go and get yourself a new, sweet-smelling blend of tea to help you ward off the impending cold before it comes. 

Your shopping bag sways as you start the chilly walk home to the House of Lamination. You only make it down the block when a gentle voice calls out to you. 

"Oh Mc, what a coincidence to run into you out here." you turn and see Simeon and Luke approaching you, their smiles so warm that you momentarily forget about the biting chill in the air.

"We just came from the House of Lamination in search of you." the dark-haired angel chuckles, nudging Luke forward teasingly. "Luke has prepared something special for you and he just could not wait until tomorrow."

The little angel stumbles forward just a step as his cherub-like face flushes the color of holly berries. "I-it's not that I couldn't wait; it's just that the treats taste best when they are fresh."

"So you baked me something?" you ask, a merry smile blossoming on your face. "Thank you, Luke, you just made my day."

"R-really?" The little angel says, looking up at you with wide blue eyes.

"Of course," you nod, "I always love when you bake for me Luke."

"Then you should hurry," he says. "The cookies will taste best when they are fresh. I knocked on your door, but no one was home, so I left the plate instead; I wouldn't want anyone else to eat them all before you get the chance."

His words cause you to glance over at the large clock in the square. "Now that you mention it, it looks like Beel should just be getting out of Fangol practice just about now."

"What?" Luke's eyes go wide, and he wordlessly scampers off, leaving you and Simeon behind. 

"That was strange," you chuckle, watching as he runs around the corner and out of sight. "Where do you think he ran off to all of a sudden?"

Simeon chuckles, raising his hand to his mouth. "Something tells me that he went home to bake you some more cookies." His tone is warm, but words alone are not enough to keep you from shivering as a gust of wind passes through you. Seeing this small reaction of discomfort, he frowns. "it's chilly out; you should get home before you get sick."

"I suppose you're right," you say, rubbing your hand up and down your rapidly cooling arms. "But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Indeed, would you like for me to walk you home?" He offers kindly, with his easy, selfless charm.

"Maybe next time," you say, eyeing his empty shopping bag knowingly; normally, you would love to take him up on his offer, but he had only just made it to the marketplace. It wouldn't be fair for him to have to walk all the way to the House of Lamination. "You should go and finish your errands, and I'll message you when I get home."

A brief flash of disappointment clouds his cerulean eyes, but he smiles softly before sending you on your way. 

~

Although you had a feeling this would be the case, your heart still sinks when you see that Luke's plate of cookies is not on the porch where he said it was. You poke around for a second just to make sure it really isn't there before you head inside. 

Your suspicions are confirmed when you notice Beel's discarded gym bag on the entryway floor, something the Avatar of Gluttony has a tendency to do when his sin gets the better of him, and he makes a B-line to the kitchen. 

"Beel?" You call, walking through the dark halls. "Are you here?"

It's faint, but you hear a small sound coming from the kitchen; sure enough, Beel sits hunched over the counter. His head in his hands as he tries to shield his face from your gaze. The plate of cookies sits on the tabletop, with one gingerbread cookie remaining.

The fact that he saved even one is a pleasant surprise, but before you can comment on it, you see the look of distress in his eyes. 

"I couldn't do it." He mumbles, pushing the plate even further away from him.

"What's wrong?" you ask worriedly, a deep line of concern creases your brow. "Do the cookies not taste good?" He shakes his head, and you get a really good look at the final cookie on the plate. Although it is just frosting and dough, you can tell that Luke had decorated the cookie to look just like you.

"Is this me?" You ask, and he nods. 

"I ate all of them, but when I got to yours, I couldn't do it; it just looks so cute," he mumbles, I picked it up, and I just felt wrong…like I wasn't supposed to eat that one."

You are touched, it's rare that Beel passes up on food, and knowing that he did it for you warms your heart. "So let me get this straight, you ate every other cookie, you ate yourself, all of your brothers, and probably our friends, but you didn't eat me?"

He shakes his head, "it just felt wrong to do so. I've hurt you once before and I never want to do it again, I don't even want to touch a cookie that looks like you."

"Thank you for saving this for me," you gently take your freshly baked cookie avatar and take a bite. It's delicious; you can tell that Luke put a lot of work into baking this. 

"It's good," you say between bites. "But I know what you meant; it's weird eating myself; it feels like a cannibal."

He goes quiet for a moment as his orange brows knit together. "It's cookieballism," he says proudly; puns are rare with the sixthborn, but this one has you nearly choking on your cookie. You spit it into a napkin as he gently rubs your back with a worried expression. "Mc, are you alright? Are you choking?"

You cough as he hands you a glass of water. "I'm fine, I just wasn't expecting that." 

His eyes linger on your now ruined treat, "But you didn't get to eat the cookie because of me; I'm sorry, Mc."

"It's alright, Beel," you smile, remembering something from earlier. "I think Luke will be bringing by some more cookies later on; if he does, then we can share them with everyone this time around."

"That would be nice," he smiles, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, "I hope these ones are decorated too. But while we wait, how about I make some hot chocolate for us."

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network

[fancyfeathers]

@zainiscompletelydone333 asked a question

If the darlings were animals or birds, what would they be??

Oh this is an interesting thought

William’s darling would definitely be a rabbit or perhaps a mouse, like something very fragile and easily vulnerable to predators. Or I could definitely see a chinchilla as well.

Albert’s darling would definitely be a ferret since they're playful, affectionate, and quiet for a large part of the day. Ferrets also need to have others around, like other ferrets or their owners since they are social creatures.

Louis’ darling is a cat, but like the type who bites your hand if you even look at them wrong but then they are affectionate with only one person and you are just standing there like what the fuck. So feral street cat.

Sherlock’s darling is a dog, probably a husky or a beagle, super dramatic and whiney, but also super energetic and lively. Like she gets all whiney when Sherlock won’t let her in on a case just like a dog would.

Mycroft’s darling is a pomeranian, I can’t explain this one but if you know you know.

Moran’s darling is probably also a cat, but more of the ones that are super chill and honestly do not care what you do as long as you don’t bother them.

Bonde’s darling would be probably a robin since they are a form of songbird and it just fits the idea of Bonde’s darling being not to different from him when he was Irene Alder.

Von Herder’s darling would probably be an owl since they are often connected to intelligence and wisdom which kind of suits how I have written her.

Fred’s darling would either be a hummingbird or a doe, a female deer. I literally cannot explain this one besides it just fits with the vibes I get from them.

[pooksgetspooked]

Hierophilia

Summary: A devout priest of unshakable faith stumbles upon what could only be called his own slice of heaven. With no creature holier than you roaming the mortal realm, it serves to be beyond troubling when Leon finds himself quickly falling into the clutches of corruption by the mere presence of you. Pairing: Leon s. Kennedy x Angel!Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

Content warnings: MDNI! Religion, Corruption, no explicit NSFW, possibly blasphemy

Growing up, Leon has had his faith waver every so often. His darkest moments lulled by the temptation of all things sinful and unholy, whispering for him to indulge himself and to let go of his inhibitions. However the teachings of his mother was ingrained within him; as though woven into the very fibre of his being, and the vice it had on him never relented, keeping him always within the path of light. Despite his moments of weakness, he never caved. He never thought he would face such conflict again after devoting his life to the church, setting out to become one of the youngest priest the church has seen. Upholding his duties and following the word of God, he flourished to become the gracious man everyone knew him to be today. He was a figure of warmth and comfort, someone to confide in during trying times in exchange for genuine solace, free from any judgement. Upstanding and virtuous, Leon always made it a point to help those in need to whatever extent within his capabilities, his heart brimming full at the notion of being able to give aid to so many people and heal their plight. You were different. An exceptional case that he made a personal mission to assist and see to. It was by some stroke of luck; a miracle he liked to call it, that you came stumbling upon the church back gardens. Dilapidated and ramshackled, the overruned plot of green rarely ever saw the presence of anyone, save for the Leon himself who occasionally ventured out back for a breather and to bask in the serene nature. He had considered tidying up the place himself one too many times, but each time he came close to making up his mind, he would always find some little signs of life making home. Some snails treading on the cobble, bunnies that frolicked around before skittering into the ground once noticing Leon, or on the rare occasion, some deers would stumble upon the little makeshift forest and graze on the grass. It didn’t take long before he came to the consensus that the gardens would be a sharing space for him and nature, and that he would have to put up with the irksom tickle of the weeds against his skin. Out of all the sightings he would recount in his daydreams, you were his favourite by far. As he ventured out back on another one of his off days, he was surprised by the sight of fluttery white wings, soft and fuzzy, and far too large to belong to that of any known bird. Hunched over and wings cresting to shield the mystery that enclosed within those confines, he found himself in a daze, his mind going blank and his breath stolen from his lungs. It was only when he took a subconscious step forward, the soft crunch of the ground beneath him caused the wings to retract to reveal a softly glowing halo floating above a mop of hair that looked too soft to be real, before spinning around to reveal your face, wide eye and lips parted in surprise. Both of you were stunned, with Leon trying to grapple at the sight you were to behold, and you, a clutch of baby bunnies squirming in hand, and the mother rabbit perched beside you, somehow just as stunned as the both of you. Leon found his words failing him, his mind lagging behind while he tried to speak, “you… you’re… are you real?” his words came out lame and dumb, as though drug addled and sluggish. You couldn’t help but giggle, the surprise quickly wearing off as you gently returned the baby bunnies into their nest in the ground with the mother close behind, before returning your attention to the man, “yes, I am real. It is a pleasure to meet you” Your smile was a touch nervous, as though unsure of everything. Leon could see the way you fidgetted, gaze flitting askance as you took in the chapel behind him, “i’m sorry, should I not be here? I could find someplace else if I am unwelcomed here,” you swallowed thickly, growing a little more anxious under the intense stare of the man. 

Seized by all sorts of questions, the priest could barely hold back his thinly veiled confusion, or his barrage of questions. What was a priest supposed to do, when stumbling upon a creature only documented in books, of dubious existence that was now concreted by his gaze upon the benevolent creature. Were you sent here on a mission of sorts? Maybe to right all the wrongs that plagued the world in steed of God himself? Because heavens know that that was long overdue now. “Ah! No, no no please, you’re welcome to stay,” his mind finally caught up to the present, reeling at her words as he frantically waved his hands to stop her, “i’m sorry,” he laughed dryly in disbelief, “I’m just… so overwhelmed. I don’t even know what to say,” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with what to say, where to start with his ceaseless myriad of questions. “Overwhelmed?” Your wings shuddered, expression knitted as your lips pursed, “I’m supposed to bring comfort and tranquility, not heightened emotions,” even in the midst of your self questioning, you still looked heavenly. The soft glow around never flickering and the soothing cast of warmth caressing his being just by standing in front of you. You were like a piece of heaven itself, fallen out of the sky to bless the earth; to bless him. “No you do! Really, you do, I’m just- I never imagined I would ever meet an angel in my life. Please, pardon me, i’m not usually so uncomposed and unkempt,” his nerves were growing frazzled now, as though crushed by the familiar sense of inferiority that he hadn’t felt plague him since his days as a child. Through his nerves however, he wasn’t lying to comfort you; you did enemate some unexplainable sense of comfort that lulled his soul, as though alleviating it of some prior weight he had never noticed, the sensation was merely shrouded by the multitude of scrambled emotions that suddenly seized him. 

With a yearning to alleviate and heal, you hesitantly reached out to the man, hands open to gently rest upon his forearm, “please do not apologize. Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need a moment to yourself? I may leave the premise if that can quell your being.” 

Acting behind some unknown force, Leon found his hand holding onto your wrist, gentle enough to not hurt yet firm enough to keep you within his grip. “No, no,” he sucked the air back into his lungs, lips parting as his chest rose and fell before he found it within himself to settle and calm, “please don’t leave,” he swallowed thickly. Blue eyes burning into your gaze as his thumb rubbed against the underside of your wrist, “I just have so many questions. May I ask you some?” That was the start of a blossoming kinship. Leon learnt from that encounter that you weren’t meant to be here, and rightfully so considering you had little to no knowledge of the worldly happenings. Not of how the world operated, and not of the terrible news plundering the world, countries at a time. Not of all the suffering and anguish the people faced, no. You were blissfully ignorant of everything, and Leon found himself wanting to keep things that way. 

This feat that Leon set out on turned out to be more difficult than he initially believed to be. The revelation of your presence stirred all sorts of outrage and desperation within the Chapel the day Leon introduced you to their community, seeing as you didn’t have any place to go. Devote believers awed and marvelled at you, singing praise and rejoicing in the salvation God would bring with him, with you being their first sign of the return of Christ. They tailed you at any possible turn, hands desperately trying to hold onto any part of you, occasionally getting too handsy with how they would tug at your wings and reach for your halo.

The smaller, but just as big in presence of the community was beyond desperate. They were those who had their own pleas and grievances that had gone unanswered countless times by God. Those people harassed you, hissing all sorts of demands for answers and for you to perform miracles outside of your capabilities, too blinded by their despair to see that you weren’t responsible, or had part in any of it, much less could you do anything about it. It was at that point that Leon made the decision to stick close to you for your safety and wellbeing. He could see you grow dreary from the increasing pressure of being around everyone, expectant for you to be their salvation. The soft glow around you seem to grow weaker, your complexion growing more dull and your wings more sunken. It was as though everyone was robbing you of your energy, which wasn’t all too far from the truth. Despite the treatment you had received from the masses, some negative and most a little too positive and wanting, you always made it a point to listen to the plight of the people despite being helpless to do anything to actually make an impact. You’d soothe what you could, comfort who you can, and heard whoever spoke as though you had not a single ill bone in your body, and Leon would later learn that it was something alike your purpose of creation.

You were a creation of God, just like any of them, but it seemed like you were an angel crafted for a more intimate role of being a companion for God himself. You often recalled what it was like back up in heaven, the breathtaking view from up above within your sanctioned tower, what it was like growing up in heaven and your tight knit relationship with God. From what Leon understood, most angels come to be as adults, but you were the exception in this case, where God spent his time nurturing you since your youth. Perhaps he wanted a taste of something akin to fatherhood, and the familial relations that came with it, and hence made you.  The more time he spent with you, now making it his duty to watch over you whenever you were out and about, the more he learnt about you, heaven, and God himself. It was fascinating to hear about what he was like. A strict father figure yes, but he was kind and patient with you all the same. The both of you were close knit, and from the way you phrased it, it sounded like you were all both of you had. It made Leon somber as he found himself reminiscing some of his youth and the yearning for the type of familial love you shared with God himself, or at least, that’s what he initially thought until time slowly began to unravel. It started off small, with little questions about how you wound up on the mortal realm since you weren’t at all supposed to be here. The simplest way you could put it was that you accidentally fell. You got too curious and bold one day, defying God’s rule to not stray too far from the tower and never wander too near the edge of the clouds. Never going too far into detail, you would give a strained smile, curt flap of your wings, and just go on to talk about how God must be upset at you for disobeying him. 

The seams began to crack from there. Leon could sense something more sinister beneath your tales and fond memories. How you never saw much of anyone outside of God and the occasional visitors or some significant figures in the castle. How God would always have some means of monitoring you at all times, just in case his child got a little too imaginative and curious. How God would confide in you about his deepest sorrows and regrets, the dents it made in your psyche and how you always tried your best to come up with something to cheer him up like the sweet daughter you are. It sounded overbearing and gripping, yet you didn’t seem to realize it yourself, all too happy to delve back in the recounts of shared laughter and joy. 

It troubled him. Like a long forgotten sensation, he found himself questioning his faith. He had pondered in his youth, why God would allow all the cruelty and unjust go unpunished in this world. Was he not all loving as everyone preached him to be? An all powerful being, capable of everything at just a whim of want? Leon couldn’t understand it. He made his own conclusion early on. If God is all loving, then he isn’t all powerful; and if he is all powerful, then he isn’t all loving. He decided to leave it at that, and never tried pursuing for more answers. As his faith wavered, a crisis was nigh. His entire life built upon the faith in God, and now he had a living testament to the figure of worship, and it was ruining him. It forced him to face the pursuit he tried to cast away early in his life, to give consideration into the figure he kneeled before on a daily basis, and he hated it with every bit of his being. It was ruining him, just as you were ruining him. His emerging discord was tearing him apart, and through it all, he was facing another dilemma he was desperately trying to keep from surfacing. His growing fascination with you. He didn’t know how someone could be so kind and free of sin. You were unlike anyone he knew; never greedy, always compassionate, ever gentle, even when faced with the most hostile of people. You were ethereal, and embodied the very bit of the word. It was easy enough to wave it off as a deep interest in you because why wouldn’t he be? You were a living, breathing angel who was presented to him, a priest. You were supposed to be living proof of his faith, and you withheld so much information within you, it was only natural for Leon, and anyone really, to hold a deep fascination in you. That’s what he told himself, until his mind began to wander. It started with his gaze, and how they would dart too low, how they would stare at a little too long, too hard, at some place anyone would deem as inappropriate. It was troubling for Leon, how he’d find himself a little too warm and too aware of your friendly touch, how the air felt too thick and he struggled to breathe, much less think through a muddled, heavy haze within your vicinity. Like a man guided by barely restrained instinct, he returned your touch with a firm grip, sometimes a gentle hand clasped around your arm, other times a well placed hold on your waist to move you behind him when the flock of people got too excited. 

It only got worse from there. He tried to keep his distance from you when walking with you, unwilling to feed into this festering desire, but unwilling to leave you vulnerable to te mob of people that always followed you everywhere, not even risking leaving you alone when seemingly no one was around. Sometimes you’d pray with him, kneeling at the alter beside him as you both whisper your prayers, and Leon’s thoughts would wander off just a second too soon for him to catch. A flash of you on your knees before him, cinture wrapped snugly around your neck with the other end firm around his hand so that he could tug the holy cord and tip your head up enough to peer into your eyes. That was only scratching the surface, and Leon could already sense his downfall. He thought his dick was but a decorative piece at that point, having not gotten any sort of attention or reaction for years on end, he knew something was dreadfully wrong when it was revived a few nights after his first inappropriate thought made it’s appearance. His room window faced the back gardens where the both of you first met, giving him a lovely view from up above of the place that now held a near and dear spot in his heart. He had been praying towards the window that night, hands clasped with his cross in hand in front of him as hushed prayers fell from his lips. Prayer for forgiveness and guidance, to purge him of his sins and shield him from sin. He so desperately wanted to stay within the light, but he had all but slipped away from it the moment his head lifted, and he saw you down below in the gardens. Seeing you there came as no surprise; ever since your arrival, you had took to the gardens as though it was your personal sanctuary and helped clean it up while still maintaining the natural flora and fauna. Within a couple weeks, the gardens was flourishing better than it ever had, the plants far more green and the woodland creatures flourished under your care. The shock that caused Leon’s mouth to grow wet was the sight of you donned in your night gown, the sheen white fabric clinging onto your frame while you frolicked in the pond, soft laughter chiming outside as you played with the fish that somehow seemed to reciprocate your friendly behaviour, swimming around and splashing you.  Just the glimpse of you felt like a sin he couldn’t wash away, yet he couldn’t look away. It felt as though he had secured his one way ticket to hell now, but he was enamoured with the curves of your body, how the wet fabric was fainty see through. His eyes fixated around the hollow of your collarbones, the perk of your nipple, the curve of your waist and the outline of your legs. He couldn’t breathe. That night, you set a holy man on a path driven into madness. 

Dead in the middle of the night, he was curled up in his bed, the white sheets moist with his sweat as he clutched onto the cross of his rosary with eyes screwed shut to try and block out the depravity of his mind and the throb of his dick. On the verge of tears, he heaved and panted, head swimming in the suffocating air of his room while he tried not to give into temptation. Never in his life has he ever been so swayed to stray from the holy path that was set out for him, not until now.

Through the growing pit of sickness, he continued praying, hoping to pray his thoughts away, only for more pervasive thoughts to cloud the rolling reels behind closed eyes. Pushing you against the cross and tying you there with the intention to bring you closer to God and make you even holier than you already are, hands that could easily engulf your breast trailing over the side of your chest, thumb grazing the fabric over your nipple while his lips dipped to your collarbone to take a bite. 

He couldn’t help but imagine your cries, the arch of your back and how your nipples would perk with under the attention, back arching closer to his chest under the whim of your bodily wants. Hands slithering underneath the arch and wrapping around your waist as blood tinged his tongue. 

The final straw in the midst of his mindless prayer was the vivid imagery of you staring up at him through fluttering lashes, down on your knees with his cock sprung free, tip flushed and shaft begging for your touch. The sensation of your lips on his dick, peppering the tip with kisses before shyly sticking your tongue out to give a kitten lick to the precum budding at the slit, watching the string stick on your tongue and connect on his dick even as you gently pull away. He hadn’t realized the sob for forgiveness falling from his lips as he pulled down his pants, dick springing free just like how he imagined in his dream. He couldn’t stop the mantra of chants, seeking guidance and salvation as he thumbed the slit, rubbing the copious amount of slippery precum on his shaft as he gripped around his dick like a vice, all while the vision continued to play behind his eyes. He could feel your tongue, soft and wet licking a stripe up from the underside of his dick before plush lips wrapped around his dick, causing him to groan. Tears leaked from his eyes from how you slowly bobbed around the head of his dick, never going any further than the dip of his head, your tongue flicking over the slit and circling the mushrom tip that has him whining and gasping for air. You were robbing him of his faith, draining it with every little timid lick. He was growing dizzy, lungs aching and the burn coiling in the pit of his guts as his hips stuttered. Mutters of “laying on of hands,” slipping off his tongue as his hands wrapped around the back of your head, slowly guiding your mouth to take him deeper, the ring of spit around his dick going further and getting wetter the further you went before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Like a snap of restraint, his mouth fell open in broken moans as your head was pushed all the way down, throat closing tightly around the offending intrusion while you gagged with tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A sight to behold, teary and hollowed cheeks while staring up at him with those bright, wide eyes. 

The burning twist in his guts was tipping too quickly. Lightheaded and back arched towards the high heavens, Leon cried into the night as the burning hot splatter of his cum marred his skin and the fabric of his shirt, the sticky white seeping into the fabric like how it clung onto his hand as he continued to pump himself dry. His dick throbbed within his grip, spasming while his core tightened like he was hit by a lightening as punishment for his sin. His chest heaved erratically while his eyes cracked open to peek at the ceiling through tear-muddled vision, his body quivering while his thighs jerked. Dear God, He was done for.