#someone lock me up i’m so rabid

[juuuulez]

📝 | hate-fuck.

rewatching THAT scene with syd and richie….and wow am i just 😍😍😍 (for both of them fyi! but alas that is not the point today)

imagine being one of the new hires, someone blunt and confident and maybe a little rude which irritates richie because it reminds him of, well….himself.

fighting in the kitchen, where you’ll purposely piss him off to prove a point, arguing with noses touching and curses grumbled in a low, intimidating tone (eventually carmy yells at you both).

one particularly heated night richie follows you to your car, swearing and yelling about some comment you made earlier during service, unable to let it go.

not wanting to cause a scene you hiss for him to “get the fuck in,” and it’s only when you’re both in the close confines of your car that richie realises the perfect solution!

fucking the attitude out of you.

it’s hard and fast and despite all the anger and hate he finds himself enamoured with the sheer control it grants him, something he doesn’t hold over you in any other situation, whilst doubling as a pretty good stress reliever.

it becomes routine after that: in the car, in an alleyway, in the office room when everyone’s gone home. anywhere (but never either of your houses, of course. the fuck do i look like, sweetheart? your friend?)

[waywardmaslow]

The Epic Codependency of Sam and Dean Winchester

• Dean went and got Sam from Stanford not because he needed Sam’s help finding John but simply because he wanted Sam with him 1.01

• Dean threw himself off a bridge just because that’s what Sam appeared to be doing 1.01

• Sam knew immediately when Dean was really a shifter 1.06

• “We accept homeowners of any race, religion, color… or sexuality.” -Larry and Lynda @ Sam & Dean 1.08

• Sam felt no guilt over someone having to die in order for Dean’s life to be saved 1.12

• “A king or two queens?” -Michael “Two queens.” -Dean “Yeah, I’ll bet.” -Michael 1.18

• Dean no longer wanted to hunt down the thing that killed Mary if it meant Sam dying 1.21

• Dean wasted one of the 3 remaining bullets for the colt on a low-level demon who was attacking Sam 1.22

• Sam blindly trusts Dean when he says John is possessed 1.22

• Sam and Dean coming up with identical cover stories and coming to the same conclusion re: “Dana Schulps” clue while separated during a hunt 2.07

• Dean gave Baby to a stranger and locked himself in with a Croatoan-infected Sam, ready to kill Sam then himself once Sam went rabid(or let rabid!Sam infect him too so they’d be monsters together) 2.09

• “So, uh, ..king-sized bed?” -Susan “No no, we’re uh.. 2 singles. We’re just brothers.” -Sam 2.11

• “Bonny to your Clyde” -Hendrickson @ Dean about Sam 2.12

• Dean was willing to cover up a murder Sam may have committed 2.14

• “You two are bickering like an old married couple.” -Bobby @ Sam & Dean 2.15

• Dean’s current relationship with Sam was more important to him than the normal life he could’ve had if Mary never died 2.20

• Dean cared more about Sam going to law school and marrying Jess than he did about any of what he had purely for himself(his job and gf) in his Djinn fantasy 2.20

• When Lily opened up to Sam about accidentally killing her girlfriend, Sam empathized with her by bringing up how Dean might be dead(for all he knew) instead of bringing up Jessica’s death(which he canonically blamed himself for) 2.21

• “Something big’s going down, Dean. End-of-the-world big.” -Bobby “Well then, let it end!” -Dean after Sam died 2.22

• Dean sold his soul to bring Sam back from the dead (which lead to him breaking the first seal kicking off the apocalypse) 2.22

• Ruby used Sam’s fear of losing Dean then grief after his death to manipulate him 3.02/3.16/4.09

• Sam was willing to bleed an innocent human dry in order to summon the trickster to bring Dean back 3.11

• Sam was willing to become an organ-harvesting immortal to keep Dean from dying and going to hell 3.15

• “Whatever the magic pill is, I’ll take it too!” -Sam “What is this, Sid and Nancy?” -Dean 3.15

• “Sammy, all I’m saying is you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours.” -Dean 3.16

• Sam tried to open the gate to hell (risking letting more demons into the world) to save Dean 4.01

• Sam tried to sell his soul multiple times to get Dean back from hell 4.01/4.09

• “Are you two like…together?” -Ruby 4.01

• “You don’t need me. You and Ruby go hunt demons.” -Dean being more jealous of Ruby than suspicious 4.04

• Dean willingly handed Anna over to the angels who wanted to kill her because they threatened to send Sam to hell if he didn’t 4.10

• Dean’s siren was an idealized version of Sam 4.14

• Sam consumed more demon blood than normal to kill Alistair and save Dean (it’s likely that this was the turning point when Sam became addicted) 4.16

• Dean knows Sam’s habits so well that he’s able to track him down even when Sam’s trying to do the opposite of what he thinks Dean would expect him to do 4.21

• Sam hunted down Lilith to avenge Dean (which lead to breaking the final seal releasing Lucifer) 4.09/4.22

• “Whatever we have between us, love, family, whatever it is..” -Dean to Sam 5.04

• future!Dean was willing to sacrifice all his friends (including Cass) to avenge Sam 5.04

• Dean prevented the endverse future simply by reconnecting with Sam 5.04

• “We’re all we’ve got. More than that, we keep each other human.” -Dean to Sam 5.04

• “The relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent.” -Dr. Fuller to Dean 5.11

• Sam and Dean are soulmates with a shared heaven 5.16

• “Sam and Dean are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other” -Zachariah 5.18

• Dean decided against saying yes to Michael because he didn’t want to let Sam down 5.18

• Dean prioritized helping Sam over Adam in the beautiful room and it led to Michael taking Adam as his vessel 5.18

• Dean was ready to die with Sam/let Lucifer beat him to death if Sam couldn’t regain control of his body 5.22

• Sam’s love for Dean gave him the strength to overcome Lucifer 5.22

• “Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got, wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back.” -Chuck voiceover 5.22

• Having a normal apple-pie life means nothing to Dean if Sam isn’t alive to be part of it. -> “I wanted my brother! Alive!” -Dean / “Had I shown up, Dean, you would have just run off(away from Lisa and Ben).” -Sam 6.01

• “That woman and that kid; I only went to them because you asked me too!” & “I showed up on their doorstep half out of my head with grief. God knows why they even let me in. I drank too much. I had nightmares. I looked everywhere. I collected hundreds of books, trying to find anything to bust you out.” -Dean to Sam 6.01

• Dean chose hunting full-time with Sam over staying with Lisa and Ben 6.02

• “The minute Sam walked through that door, I knew. It was over. You two have the most unhealthy, tangled-up, crazy thing I’ve ever seen.” -Lisa about Dean and Sam 6.06

• “Mallory to your Micky” -Veritas to Sam about Dean 6.06

• Dean died to make a deal with Death to save Sam’s soul from the cage and in doing so chose Sam over Adam 6.11

• Sam took on his cage memories so Dean wouldn’t be left alone 6.22

• Dean became Sam’s stone number 1 when he was having trouble telling what was real 7.02

• Sam and Dean each quickly recognized each others leviathan doppelgängers 7.06

• Sam’s grief over losing Dean is paralleled to Amelia’s grief over losing her husband, both believe their loved one is dead, both get their loved one back. s8 Flashbacks

• “Is it just me or are you getting a workplace-romance vibe from those two?” -Michael & “Dude, they just sat and talked about how they have been apart for a year. You were probably right about that whole office-romance thing.” -Brian about Sam and Dean 8.04

• Sam chooses Dean over Amelia 8.10

• Dean chooses to take on the 3 trials mainly because he doesn’t want Sam to do it and risk his life, he wants Sam to reap the benefits of a demon free world 8.14

• Dean’s perfect ending is simply for Sam to get out of hunting and lead a normal apple-pie life till he’s old and grey 8.14

• “Cass, you got your ears on? Listen, you know I am not one for praying, 'cause in my book it's... it's the same as begging. But this is about Sam, so I need you to hear me.” -Dean 8.16

• Dean killed Benny so Sam could be saved from Purgatory 8.19

• “You two fight like an old married couple.” Charlie to Sam & Dean 8.20

• Dean chose a world with demons over a demon-free world without Sam 8.23

• “You know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It’s how many times I’ve let you down. I can’t do that again.” -Sam to Dean 8.23

• “Don’t you dare think that there’s anything past or present that I would put in front of you.” -Dean to Sam 8.23

• Dean violated Sam’s trust and autonomy via tricking him into an Angel possession to save his life 9.01

• “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you!” -Dean to Sam 9.01

• Dean kicked human!Cass -who was being hunted by angels- out of the bunker rendering him homeless so his mere presence wouldn’t drive away the Angel keeping Sam alive 9.03

• Young!Dean gave up a chance at a normal life so he could continue being there for Sam 9.07

• Dean gave Crowley permission to use one of the brothers’ code words to warn Sam about Gadreel 9.10

• Dean didn’t regret letting an Angel into Sam, even though it had resulted in Kevin being killed 9.13

• Sam could break through the MOC hold on Dean like Collette was able to do for Cain 9.16/9.21/10.23

• “You’re lying to Sam like he’s your wife.” - Crowley 9.17

• Sam tricked a man into selling his soul so he could torture the demon for info on where demon!Dean was 10.02/10.03

• “Right now I’m doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throat out…with my teeth.” -Demon!Dean to Sam 10.02

• “What did Sam say? He wanna divorce?” -Dean 10.03

• “I tried to kill him, Cass.” -Dean “It would take a lot more than trying to kill your brother with a hammer to make Sam want to walk away.” -Cass 10.03

• “Homosexual murderers!” -Bev “Like Leopold and Loeb!” -Hetty 10.06

• “Then would come the murder you'd never survive, the one that would finally turn you into as much of a savage as it did me. Your brother, Sam.” -Cain to Dean 10.14

• Sam was willing to bleed himself to death to unlock the Werther Box to get the codex so a cure for Dean could be found in the Book of the Damned 10.19

• Death wanted Sam to be killed because he knew Sam would never stop looking for a way to free Dean from the MOC regardless of the consequences 10.23

• Sam was willing to let Dean kill him so Death would send Dean somewhere he wouldn’t be a danger to anyone due to the MOC 10.23

• Dean killed Death because he couldn’t go through with killing Sam and Death had threatened to do it if he couldn’t 10.23

• Sam’s efforts to get the MOC off Dean result in the Darkness being released 10.23

• “I unleashed a force on this world that could destroy it to save you. And I’d do it again, in a second I’d do it again.” -Sam to Dean 11.01

• Dean: “Where’s Sam?” Crowley: “Don’t worry about Sam.” Dean: “I’m sorry; have you met me?” 11.10

• Dean chose comforting/looking after Sam over helping Cass fight Lucifer in the cage 11.10

• Dean saw a manifestation of dead!Sam(part of his soul in distress) in the soul-eater’s nest 11.16

• Dean killed himself so he could bargain with a reaper to bring Sam back from the dead 11.17

• Because Dean thought Sam was dead, he was ready to let himself (and the couple they were trying to save) be killed by the werewolf pack they’d been hunting 11.17

• Michelle: “I just watched the man I love die; there’s no normal after that.” Dean: *thinking about how he’s just experienced the same thing with Sam except with a different outcome* 11.17

• “You fight like brothers; you’re almost as bad as [me and Sam].” -Dean “Actually, it’s more like an old married couple.” -Caesar 11.19

• Sam got infected by the Darkness fog and Dean abandoned the people they were trying to protect and instead tried to infect himself so he could die with Sam 11.20

• Dean used his relationship with Sam to relate to Amara and get her to reconcile with Chuck 11.23

• Amara in 11.09: *kisses Dean* -> Dean in 11.23 to Amara: “You simply need your brother. I mean, hell, maybe that’s why you wanted me. But deep down, you didn’t really want me…cuz I’m not him.”

• Sam and Mary: *trapped in Asa’s house by a demon* -> Dean: *stuck outside* “Sam! Sammy! Hey!” *after breaking in* “Where’s my brother?” 12.06

• “We’re like the American Oasis.” -Dean comparing himself & Sam to Liam & Noel Gallagher 12.07

• Sam and Dean were each willing to die so the other could escape the federal prison and live on 12.09

• “You know, sometimes me and Sam have got so much going on that…we forget about everyone else.” -Dean to Cass 12.23

• Dean began to warm up to Jack because he saved Sam’s life 13.04

• Sam and Dean were unfazed by being stuck in the Bad Place because they had each other 13.10

• “I don’t care what happens to me. I never really have. But I do care about what happens to my brother.” -Dean 13.20

• “And if we die? We’ll do that together too.” -Sam to Dean 13.20

• Dean went mute after Sam was killed and later set off on a suicide mission to retrieve Sam’s body or die trying 13.21

• Dean said yes to AU!Michael to save Sam from Lucifer 13.23

• Dean knows Bert and Ernie are gay 5.03 and suggests he and Sam dress as them for Halloween 14.04

• Though Dean was unable to take back control or cast Michael out, his resistance due to his attachment to Sam made him enough of a nuisance to Michael that he willingly let Dean go(temporarily) 14.09

• Sam was able to figure out where Michael had Dean trapped in his mind via knowing how Dean could be best subdued/distracted 14.10

• Sam broke through Michael’s hold on Dean with just one word: “Poughkeepsie” 14.10

• Sam was the only one who could talk Dean out of locking himself in the Ma’lak box with Michael for all eternity at the bottom of the ocean 14.12

• The thought of letting Dean down broke Sam free of Chip Harrington’s mind control 14.15

• “We have lost way, way too much. And it’s hard not to feel like just… cashing out. I felt like that. After Chuck, back at the crypt. But you know what brought me back? You did. By sayin’ that what we do still matters.” -Dean to Sam 15.04

• Dean was willing to abandon Cass in Purgatory, so he could get back home before the portal closed and save Sam from Chuck (that’s the only reason he sent up that prayer to Cass) 15.09

• Dean was willing to sacrifice Jack so he and Sam could have a life free of Chuck’s influence/control 15.17

• Dean was willing to trade everyone(who’d be collateral damage if Billie became the new god) except Sam for a shot at getting rid of Chuck 15.17

• Sam broke through Dean’s desperation to be rid of Chuck no matter what the cost, thwarting not just Billie’s plan but also Chuck’s brother-kills-brother endgame 15.17

• Dean stood outside Sam’s Stanford dorm for hours because he was so afraid of Sam possibly rejecting him, he didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have Sam 15.20

• “It’s always been you… and me.” “I love you so much..my baby brother.” -Dean to Sam 15.20

• Dean wouldn’t let go till Sam told him it was ok, he wanted to be sure Sam would be ok without him 15.20

• Sam spent the rest of his life mourning Dean and honoring his memory, named his son after him 15.20

• Dean’s heaven was not perfect till Sam got there 15.20

[solbaby7]

Hiii, can I get a margarita with a salt rim on the rocks, please? Thank you!💕

[ “got a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it.” + smut + rhysand ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Rhysand liked wild things—had this affinity for collecting strays; plucking them from their prisons and providing a life of freedom and luxury.

Maybe that’s why he’s so drawn to you. This rabid animal of a thing with a serious aversion to proper clothing and absolutely no regard for others personal boundaries. “Back for more charity work?”

“Is that how you think of my visits? I’m hurt.”

You look down at him with amusement, crouched low on a branch with a skirt so short it takes effort not to stare. “We both know you aren’t,” You make tree climbing look easy, bare toes trodding across branches that don’t look sturdy but hold strong bearing your weight. “What’d you bring me this time?”

Rhysand dangles the wicker basket before him with two fingers. He’s teasing, offering; luring you in closer as the laws of the Middle insists that its lands and the creatures in it must welcome you and not the other way around. “Come see for yourself, trouble.”

He’s grown fond of the wild way you move, confidently twisting and ducking through the forestry—the breathable linen of your strapless top flows with the breeze. Handmade necklaces kiss at your clavicle, all braided leather with bleached bones, carefully woven shells and shiny geodes. Once you get close enough he can see the neat braids peeking through loose strands, interwoven thread adding pops of color in haphazard places. “More naughty words on paper,” You chuff out when the weight of two books sits in your hands. The pages are pristine; probably first addition and perfectly cared for. “Always knew you High Lords were just pampered perverts.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you read the last two I brought you.”

Rhysand is sure he’ll have dreams about the pretty blush on your cheeks. He’s certain fantasies have planted their seed with intent to grow and grow like fucking ivy until nothing in sight could be see but you and that feisty furrow of your brow and the sharp roll of your eyes. Curious hands dig around the basket, sifting through cured meats and cheeses, parchment paper and oil pastels, rich fabrics and a case full of fresh sewing needles. “You trying to turn me into a fucking housewife or something? Charcuterie boards and fixing the buttons on your rich boy clothes.”

“Got a mouth on you.” Rhys chuckles in amusement, aubergine irises twinkling with silent adoration. “Someone should teach you how to use it.” You don’t seem the slightest bit ashamed when forcing him to hold onto your things, urging him to follow with a jerky nod of your head. “Could start by saying thank you.”

“Make me.”

Something in the air shifts. It alters the way he stands. Awakens a creature lurking in his shadow and its sights lock on you—the female with no fear of monsters. No, instead you hunt them, wrangle them up and tame them. Rabid beasts crooned into fucking house pets and Rhysand yearned to be the stray you took pity on. “Make you use your mouth properly? Or make you say thank you?”

“Both.” He’s hooked; shoes sinking into your footsteps until thick forestry breaks into a clearing with a house built smack dab in the middle. It’s surrounded by flowers, lavender and lemongrass guarding hand built basins labeled with fresh produce to fend off freeloading animals. Ivy creeps up one side of the greenhouse attached to the back. “Show me how to do it like they do in the books you bring me.”

Is it possible for a mouth to dry up and salivate at once? Because Rhys suddenly finds his in an odd mix of something in between. You barely notice the clumsy way he sets aside your basket of goodies but you’re fully aware of the eager way he pulls you in, stopping you from taking a step further. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You scan the length of him, running over the strong set of his shoulders and the practiced ease in the way his arms rest at his sides. Every breath strains against the soft cotton of his shirt, solid muscle radiating warmth when you rest the palm of your hand against it. It’s a slow drag down and you feel no shame for your curiosity when exploring the length of his abdomen, fingers hooking in the loop of his belt. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” The metallic click of his belt unbuckling, the sharp undoing of tied dress pants. “But, I’m a visual learner.” Rhys’ heart throbs in his chest when you sink to your knees, blood rushing lower until the true extent of his affection towards you is standing at attention in your face.

“I can help with that,” He’s already easing down the top of your shirt, groaning at the sight of bare breasts and pebbled nipples. “Though, my teaching style is a little more…hands on.”

You don’t have time to ask what that means when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for; tugging down his pants just enough to show off a throbbing erection, ruddy tip leaking pre-cum. Two fingers tap at your cheek twice and you have no control over the way your mouth drops open.

He knows he’s being a little rougher than he should—it’s probably your first time giving head and yet he can’t slow down his movements. You don’t even complain, breathing through the way his cock is fed to you, spit glistening along the length and dribbling down your chin. “Quick learner, aren’t you?” Rhys praises so prettily, such nice words spewing free as if he wasn’t rutting his prick down your throat.

Thumbs clear away the tears from under your eyes when you gag. The rasp of his voice urging you to work harder, to hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along that vein that has blunt nails digging into the nape of your neck. Swears spill in a sloppy slur, hands guiding the bob of your head until his release shoots down your throat with a choked grunt.

There’s no way you don’t look a mess when you peer up at him. Fucked out eyes. Tears tracking down your cheeks. Bruised lips. A wet patch dripping down your chest and still you utter the words, “Thank you.”

Just perfection and something inside him screams ‘mine’ the same time Rhysand replies with a breathless, “You’re welcome.”

[st-osmanthus]

I’m ready. I’m ready for my ZoLu jealousy rant. Part 1 of 2.

[BTW, this rant is also a behind-the-scenes look at the madness that came over me when I wrote the unsubtly titled fic, “Four Times Zoro Did Not Get Jealous (and the One Time Sanji Confronted Him About It).” Prior reading of the fic is not necessary for enjoyment of my insanity analysis.]

At its core, I believe jealousy arises from 1. a special regard and 2. insecurity. You don’t get jealous over someone you don’t care about. And if you’re confident in the other person’s feelings for you, there’s not much to be jealous about.

With our resident swordsman, he definitely holds Luffy in high regard, meaning there would be reason to feel jealous over Luffy. The question then becomes, has Zoro ever been given a reason to feel insecure about his place in Luffy’s life?

My stance on this is a solid NO.

I believe Zoro knows his worth, partly because he has ALWAYS worked hard to earn his place beside Luffy. He trains constantly and goes above and beyond to do everything he can to stay by Luffy’s side and be Luffy’s “wing.” And Luffy has shown time and time again that he trusts Zoro implicitly in pretty much everything except for directions. Zoro is Luffy’s voice of reason, moral support, enabler, and rabid attack dog rolled into one muscular package. Luffy appreciates the crap out of Zoro, and he has never hesitated to show it. He calls for Zoro first, is always delighted to see him, and gives Zoro the Sabo face-glomp treatment (TM) after just two weeks apart. Yes, all Straw Hats are created equal, but I’ll fight every One Piece fan to defend my view that in the eyes of canon Luffy, Zoro may just be a tad more special.

My point is, Luffy has never given Zoro a reason to be jealous, and Zoro is secure enough in his position within Luffy’s life that he doesn’t feel threatened by anyone else. He’s been petty, sure, like his insistence that he is worth twice as many men as Sanji, but I do think that is just Zoro’s competitiveness. Because why on earth would Zoro be jealous over Luffy? Who can even come between them??!

Don’t get me wrong, I like to indulge in a jealous Zoro fic any time. In fact, if you know any, send a link my way pls! At my core, however, I don’t think Zoro is the jealous type. Not over Luffy at least. Shippers of other Zoro pairings? You do you.

However! There’s always a caveat. I do believe Zoro gets possessive, but in the way that all Straw Hats get possessive over Luffy. Because Luffy is theirs. And when Luffy nearly kills himself to save a whole kingdom, I think they get a little protective over their captain, and they’d want to keep him to themselves for a while. Ultimately, they know they can’t. Luffy is meant for the world to love, and all the Straw Hats know this. Zoro knows this more than anyone, having been THE FIRST.

So at the end of an adventure, when the fight is over and adrenaline leaves him, I think Zoro frets and anguishes so much that he wants to lock up his captain in a room where nobody else can take another piece of him, because Luffy has given enough, dammit. But Zoro doesn’t do that, because Luffy would not want him to.

In summary, the conclusion of my book report is that no, Zoro doesn’t get jealous.

(But what about Luffy?! That’s coming in Part 2. I need to first write another 1000 words of my next fic.)

[fleshqounds]

THE HAND THAT FEEDS

prompt : Whumper who keeps Whumpee locked up because "You're dangerous, sweetheart. You're a danger to society. Look at you, you can't even control yourself." And has actually convinced Whumpee of that. Which gives them ample opportunity for punishment. — @whumblr

Adbell dog imagery supremacy 😇

Solevetsky should’ve been in his burial ground, shallow and cold, let the snow sneak into his once warmed body and allow himself to slowly decompose, his body back to nature. But he supposed god had other plans.

He always found himself praying.

Even before Solovetsky, before Adler, when all there seemed to be was a husk of a man — mind blank, running on anger, of a patriotism for a country that was long overdue it’s welcome.

Bell panted, breath coming out sharp, cold exhales that left him shivering — he once took for granted the warmth within the safe house, the plain coffee Lazar always bought. Bell missed it now. He missed takeout, he missed bantering with woods, arm-wrestling with Lazar, philosophizing with Park. Most of all, Bell missed the man he believed Adler was.

The one who’d saved him, stuck by him when nothing else had. They’d returned from Vietnam and kept each other sane throughout the shifts in their lives.

Their bodies entangled beneath the stars, hot breath and shared words of love between them, the promise of marriage if they’d managed to survive — but Bell has always been just some red to him, a no good commie.

And now, here he was.

stuck against a wall, arms tied, some muzzle around his jaw to keep him from lashing out — like some animal. But he felt too weak, too vulnerable to even attempt anything.

His eyes draw up lazily, half-lidded, pupils blown from whatever drugs he’d been sedated with — Adler’s special concoction, just for him, just for Bell. They find themselves on Adler, watching behind his glasses, narrowing down on Bell. “Do you know what those guys back at Langley would do if they saw you like this?” Adler questioned, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting at his knees.

“They’d put you down like the rabid mutt you are.” His voice quieted, so gentle that Bell itched to truly soften, but he held himself back, trying to tune the blonde out. “You’re dangerous, Bell, and deep down, you know it.” Adler spoke, chair groaning as he’d stood, taking steps towards the bound Russian before him, “I’m the only one who can handle you. No one else would even try.”

And bell was angry, because he believed that. Some part of him, the maybe madly-in-love part of him, truly believed that he was a danger to those around him. that he’d snap easy if willed.

Bell had always been too reactive, too emotional, and impulsive. Adler seemed to be the only man who’d ever been so good to him.

“I’ve always liked that fire in you, Bell. It’s what makes you special.” Adler cooed, overtly sweet, sickly like syrup, “But fire, sweetheart—it burns. And if you’re not careful, it’ll consume everything around you. That’s why you need someone like me to keep you in check. You understand, don’t you, Bell?”

Adler cocked his head slightly, taking off his shades for good measures as he’d continued to stare at the other — eyes raking down Bell’s limp, slightly coiled form. Listening to the subtle, and yet heavy breaths taken by the Russian.

His words are only greeted by silence, and Adler’s brows furrow as he glanced down to the tended wound near Bell’s pec, and he strokes the scar as if inspecting it, his tone almost fatherly. "I've got to admit, you've healed up nicely. I wasn't sure you'd pull through, but here you are. Tough as ever."

Though, He suddenly applies pressure, his calm voice cutting through Bell's sharp gasp. "But don't get cocky. Scars have a way of reminding you to stay in line. Consider this my way of keeping you grounded."

Adler finally released the pressure on the wound, leaving Bell panting, his vision blurred with pain and something far worse—fear. “See, Bell? That’s the beauty of this,” Adler murmured, brushing his hand over Bell’s trembling shoulder, his voice smooth, almost affectionate, almost.

“You’ll never forget who holds the leash. Who saved you. Who owns you.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Bell’s ear. “You can fight it all you want, sweetheart, but deep down, you know. You’re mine. And nothing—not the pain, not the scars, not even yourself—can change that.” Bell’s heart hammered, a mix of agony and resignation pooling in his chest as Adler pulled back, his shadow looming like the finality of a guillotine.

[morsmortish]

i see you vague posting about a “bones and all” AU, i need more!!!

oh how glad i am you asked. there are many thoughts, many many many things to say.

i gotta admit i only watched bones and all for the first time a few weeks ago but all i could think about the whole time was how similar lee and barty were and then i started listening to a shitload of ethel cain and then i gave in to the voices and started properly thinking about a rosekiller au of all of it combined- i would say while i’ve tagged it as a bones and all au, it’s more of a hybrid of bones and all AND preachers daughter AND all my whirring thoughts on religiously traumatised bcj. (plus i’ve always had a soft spot for cannibalism imagery, which is probably only slightly concerning.)

the plan for the fic is to follow the rough plotline of bones and all (two cannibals on a road trip that fall in love) with a few tweaks. controversially, barty occupies the role that maren has in the film, but only in the sense that he is the main protagonist, and the story is more following his journey of self acceptance than it is of evan’s, who fills lee’s role as the ‘love interest’ who helps barty discover himself and then…well, dies. lee himself is so so barty but i think some of his traits and experiences (i’m solely thinking of the “do you think i’m a bad person?” to “am i bad? am i bad? thread for this) can and will still be a part of barty’s characterisation here.

there are some key changes to the film in this au though. for starters, barty crouch junior is going to be carrying a Hell Of A Lot of religious trauma. i want his dad to be a preacher, the pair of them living in a small town together. barty’s mother is dead, and barty is made to feel sort of responsible for this. the cannibalistic urges he has are kept under lock and key by his father, who essentially tries to scare him off of acting on them, using the threat of what happened to bcj’s mother as a kind of ‘ammunition’ (it makes sense in my head i swear). i want things to be getting progressively worse in this town, barty not being able to control himself as he gets older, i want his father leaving him to fend for himself one day. i want barty fleeing his town as they line up with metaphorical (or literal!) pitchforks outside his front door, and i want him meeting evan a few days later. i want them embarking on a mission to find barty’s father, but, unlike maren and lee, evan and barty are on a road trip to find and kill this old fucker.

evan is a difficult character for me to latch on to in this. he’s similar to lee in the way that he has left his town, he has a (twin) sister waiting for him back home, he’s USED to this life now. he’s very circumstancially (is that a word?) similar to lee, but, because he’s Evan Rosier, he’s just a weird little freak. he fills the ‘part’ of lee in the story but his personality is entirely evan. i want him being off-puttingly pedantic about the people he eats, the way he eats them, how he disposes of the evidence. like lee, he has a system for how to take advantage of his victim’s belongings, but it’s much more meticulous, almost mechanical. he’s somewhat detached from the whole thing. he loves the rhythm of eating someone, unlike barty, who much more resembles a rabid dog. he’s got a system for how he is going to live his life all laid out, and he’s not the most accommodating when barty tries to butt in and change everything around by dragging him along on some harebrained revenge scheme against his own dad. but he can’t help but get sucked into barty’s aura and he can’t help but (albeit reluctantly) drive him all across america in a fuckass truck.

that’s a sort of (extraordinarily long) backdrop for this fic. at its core it IS a bones and all au, but there’s so much to unpack in terms of barty’s religious trauma, which i think will pair so nicely with the cannibalism (↤ top ten phrases ever???). there’s also evan and pandora and their backstory, and don’t even get me STARTED on tom riddle and his Death Eaters (the clue is in the goddamn name).

BUT THANK YOU FOR ASKING ROYAL, you’ve given me such a lovely opportunity to ramble about my thoughts and i’m spiritually lying on my bed giggling and kicking my legs any time i get to reply to an actual ask that an actual someone has actually asked me. the issue is i’m notoriously bad at actually writing these ideas, so this may end up staying as a very developed concept, with a pinterest board, a playlist, a tumblr tag…you get the gist.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 19

RippleClan and AshClan begin to consider peace.

[Image ID: Gorgestar and Downstar face Autumnstar. Downstar says, “We’ve had enough, Autumnstar. You’re going to listen.”]

From Downstar’s position, she had a clear view of Gorgestar and Bubblemoon, waiting quietly on their side of the border. AshClan territory was quiet, as it so often seemed to be. Bubblemoon helped his leader stretch his stiff back legs (Gorgestar’s sled, a bark board with leather straps to tie around his back, sat to the side). The round black and white tom eyed AshClan’s territory with stiff ears and claws peeking out of his paws. Gorgestar, meanwhile, was the symbol of serenity. Even as Bubblemoon rubbed his little-used muscles, he calmly studied the blinding light bouncing off the snow. With the sunrise clawing through AshClan’s trees, the world seemed ablaze.

A heavy clump of snow fell from a tree not too far from the SlugClan duo. Bubblemoon tensed, eyes locked on the suspect snow.

“Bubblemoon,” Gorgestar sighed, breathing deep, “if you don’t relax, he’ll know something is wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Gorgestar,” Bubblemoon groaned. “I’m worried. Not just for us, either. I’m worried about Downstar and Fennelspot and the rest of RippleClan, even AshClan!”

“Autumnstar is a stubborn tom who doesn’t want to admit that the Clans can’t be as insular and traditional as his ancestors wanted,” Gorgestar huffed. “Yet even he can listen to reason if we make him stop and sit a while.”

“Do you think he might attack us?” Bubblemoon gulped. The comment earned him a tired stare from Gorgestar.

“You’re the cleric of a Clan Autumnstar greatly respects,” Gorgestar said, bumping heads with the skittish tom. “I’m the soggy lump of leather that’s saved his torn flank from more than a few disasters. Autumnstar is a fierce and traditional leader, but he’s not rabid. He’ll be mad, yes, but he’ll have someone else to throw claws with.” Bubblemoon glanced at Downstar’s hiding place, but Gorgestar smacked his paw.

A few moments later, an orange figure appeared within AshClan territory. Downstar tensed as Autumnstar drew toward the SlugClan border. Gorgestar and Bubblemoon spotted Autumnstar soon after Downstar. Autumnstar’s paws crunched the wet snow under him as he stood on the border’s edge. Gorgestar pulled himself up to Autumnstar, with what little movement his back legs still retained helping him reach Autumnstar’s frost-bitten nose. The nose touch was quick and polite, but Autumnstar’s face made it clear he expected the greeting to be longer.

“Gorgestar, Bubblemoon,” Autumnstar hummed, nodding to each of the toms. “I appreciate that you called this meeting. It’s always a pleasure to get the wisdom of a noble leader like yourself.”

“I’m glad you agreed to stop by the border,” Gorgestar said. “Have you been busy since the last Gathering?”

“Somewhat,” Autumnstar said with a flick of an ear. “We’ve mostly dealt with trespassers and troublemakers. I’ve meant to warn your Clan, Gorgestar, a human hunting party set up camp in our territory. They may wander into your lands.”

“I got a sign about them,” Bubblemoon said softly. He stared at Autumnstar’s chest, even as the orange and white leader tried to catch his eye.

“I can only assume your Clan is working on a plan to drive them out?” Gorgestar sighed.

“They should move on in a couple days,” Autumnstar said as he stretched his back legs. “If not, we have ways to frighten them back to their dens.”

“On the subject of trespassers, Autumnstar,” Gorgestar huffed, “I wanted to talk to you about a young cat who visited my Clan shortly after the Gathering.” 

Usually, the SlugClan leader’s tone was airy and a little louder than need be. Yet as he spoke, his voice dropped and sucked in everyone nearby. Downstar remembered that particular effect well from her caretaker days. Autumnstar’s tail danced over the packed snow, leaving soft lines behind it. Downstar’s legs grew sore and Bubblemoon’s tail went stiff.

“They came to me to discuss the safety of their friends and family,” Gorgestar said. “I sent them home without an escort. They didn’t make it home, Autumnstar.”

“The cream-colored cat,” Autumnstar sighed. He closed his eyes. His breath clouded around his whiskers.

“Their name was Locustseeker,” Gorgestar huffed. Bubblemoon sat taller at the dead cat’s name. Downstar’s claws ached to fly into action.

“They were trespassing on our territory,” Autumnstar huffed, opening his eyes. He paced up and down the border as he spoke. “My patrol had the right to pursue.”

“Not to kill!” Bubblemoon finally snapped. He stood right on the border and made their fluffy coat look bigger. He still paled in comparison to Autumnstar, though. “The Code of Spilled Blood—“

“Doesn’t apply to rogues,” Autumnstar growled. Downstar had enough. It was time to reveal herself.

A snowball slipped from the branches of the spruce beside Autumnstar. Autumnstar stared into the pines and met Downstar’s eyes glittering within the stark shadows. She flew from the tree with a warrior’s yowl. Autumnstar swiftly dodged her. Downstar landed in the sinking snow and easily slipped into a fighting stance, her bristling fur making her twice as big. Autumnstar took a moment to realize just who had fallen from the tree and then glared at Gorgestar with a look of both anger and hurt.

“Gorgestar!” Autumnstar yowled. “You invited me to an ambush?”

“I invited you to a meeting,” Gorgestar huffed, pulling himself to Downstar’s side. “A meeting with two leaders. This hostility between your Clans needs to end.”

“We’ve had enough, Autumnstar,” Downstar growled, claws sinking into the snow. “You’re going to listen.”

“Why should I?” Autumnstar snapped. “StarClan doesn’t want you, Downdapple.” Gorgestar and Downstar squirmed at the name.

“But you know they do!” Bubblemoon whined. “They spoke to all the clerics. They approve of RippleClan.”

“And yet just a moon prior, my cleric got a sign saying the opposite,” Autumnstar growled. “Do you really think StarClan would change its opinion in a single moon?”

“They do when you kill your own Clanmates,” Downstar hissed.

“I did what I had to,” Autumnstar said, “just as I always do.” His back paws shifted, acting as Downstar’s only clue of the impending assault. Gorgestar flailed back as Autumnstar slammed into Downstar. The tortoiseshell leader moved in time to avoid Autumnstar’s full strength, but he still caught her back legs. As her flank collapsed under Autumnstar’s weight, she spun around and swiped at his shoulders.

“Your own Clan wants to move on!” Downstar yowled, ducking under Autumnstar’s paw. “Why not let them?”

“Because the longer you’re around, the less my Clan has to survive!” Autumnstar roared. “You’ll take fish from our river—” He kicked Downstar in the stomach— “Scare prey from our land—” He smashed her head into the ground, sending her teeth through her tongue— “And bring the next great threat right to our camp!” Before Downstar could push herself up, Autumnstar churned his hind paws up and down Downstar’s spine.

“Autumnstar, enough!” Gorgestar hissed. He dragged himself toward the fight, but Bubblemoon pressed into his shoulder, urging him back.

“It’s only a matter of time before you invite a rogue into your midst who’ll threaten us all,” Autumnstar hissed, leaning into Downstar’s ear. Her head spun and her thoughts fluttered too quickly for her to catch, making her slow to realize what Autumnstar planned to do. “It’s my duty as a true leader to stop that.” 

Sharp fangs bit into the back of Downstar’s neck as though she were a piece of prey. Just like prey, she was gone before Autumnstar let go.

[Image ID: Locustseeker faces Downstar, saying “Tell Autumnstar I say hello.” Under Downstar, it says LIVES LEFT: 8]

For a while, it was like Downstar was asleep. She felt and thought of nothing. She would have thought it peaceful, had she had the state of mind to consider such things. However, as she suspected, her senses soon awoke in a gentle wave of warmth and splashing water.

Downstar laid on a coarse beach, her tail touching the edge of the ocean’s lapping waves. The sun danced above the horizon and made a beautiful yellow line over the ocean. The forest stretched beyond the beach, with distant mountains framing the land. A cream-colored cat sat beside Downstar, purring. Their fur shimmered in the sunrise.

“One life down, eight to do,” Locustseeker purred. 

Downstar hurried to stand. Oddly enough, the dizziness and pain that had enveloped her a short time before was gone. She checked her back, but there was no sign of Autumnstar’s claws digging into her well-toned muscle. She supposed that was to be expected. 

“Apparently, when you die,” Locustseeker explained as Downstar checked herself over, “you have to spend a minute in StarClan to recover. I argued with your daughter, but I got to be the one to greet you. Thanks for the name!”

“You deserved it,” Downstar said softly, braving herself to meet Locustseeker’s eyes. Without an apprentice name, they truly looked like an adult. When they left camp, they looked so young, though…

“I know Dad’s mad about me not having a grave to visit,” Locustseeker sighed, “but can you please tell him that’s not important? Just visit Twinekit’s grave if he misses me.” Downstar nodded dumbly. She sat beside the fallen apprentice and stared at the sea. Why had the Clans never thought to move eastward? She had lived by the coast for almost two years, and couldn’t imagine anything else now. How strange.

“One last thing before you go back,” Locustseeker said, drawing Downstar’s eye. Locustseeker’s whiskers twitched as they held back a laugh. Mischief twinkled in their gaze. “Tell Autumnstar I say hello.”

Somehow, coming back to life was more painful than dying. Downstar found herself gasping as pain rippled down her back and her body found itself no longer sitting on a warm beach but laying in cold, red snow. The snow sunk into her fur and chilled her skin. Autumnstar faced Gorgestar and Bubblemoon, clearly in the midst of a deep argument. However, as Downstar scrambled for breath, Autumnstar froze. Bubblemoon raced around the AshClan leader and skidded up to Downstar.

“Take deep breaths, Downstar,” Bubblemoon cooed. “StarClan’s healed most of your wounds, but you still have some scraps down your back. Take a minute.” Downstar groaned as the pain settled through her bones. Bubblemoon groomed her fur the wrong way to warm her up.

“You’re alive,” Autumnstar gasped in the softest voice Downstar had ever heard from the rampaging leader.

“Nine lives, Autumnstar,” Downstar coughed. Autumnstar stared at her without blinking, taking in every breath and twitch.

“You really thought StarClan rejected her?” Gorgestar sighed. Autumnstar’s breath quickened. His ears tilted so far back, Downstar thought they would go through his head. Before Downstar could think up another clever retort, Autumnstar raced over the border. The sound of his paws slamming into the wet snow lasted long after he vanished.

“Not how I expected that to end,” Downstar sighed, “but I’ll take it.”

(Downstar: 78, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Locustseeker: 12, nonbinary (they/them), historian apprentice, troublesome, moss-ball hunter)

RippleClan is free of whitecough. As Fennelspot warns the Clan of future whitecough signs, Rustshade notices how beautiful his eyes are.

[Image ID: Rustshade, Puddlespeckle, and Burdockcreek look up at Fennelspot in the upper left corner as he says, “And for StarClan’s sake, please don’t cough on other cats!”]

(Fennelspot: 76, male, cleric,  insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

(Rustshade: 63, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Burdockcreek: 13, male, historian, competitive, learner of lore)

(Puddlespeckle: 145, male, elder, strict, good hunter, good kitsitter)

[orphanlavinia]

I’m heavily medicated

It feels as if I’ve been defeated.

I was so happy with five pills a day.

Feels like such a step backwards or several

My psych finally broke down and gave me benzodiazepines, I pick em up today

I can’t sleep my body is exhausted and my eyes are closing but this feeling in my legs is killing me at night.

It feels like hell

I have to kinda journal somewhere so I guess here it is almost nobody knows this account is mine.

Thank you internet.

Anyways I’ve spend these past few days locked in the bathroom binge smoking weed.

It all started really when I got diagnosed with did. I was in very serious denial and what my brain did out of boredom or god knows what is flood me with memories that I would have rather not remember.

Is it my brain or miss Steiner? We don’t know

The portrayal of this illness in TikTok and shit tends to be too cartoony and I didn’t relate with it at all until I found other lesser known people that talked about it.

And then there it was, symptoms that I have that are DID.

The blackouts, the feeling of not having control in my body.

The amnesia

All of them.

And then everything inside me got worse as I watch my life outside of me getting better and I cannot join in cuz the past pulls. Hard and cruel.

And I am so tired

I have so much work to do and I will

I am just so tired all the time

My neuropathic pain medication got switched and it has caused me a great deal of physical pain.

Also just fyi I am in clinical rest.

I do have to do some stuff do.

Everything is very hard I just want to be alone and not think and not be here maybe?

I’m leaving angel alone tho

He very much understands

But it’s still not cool

I am very frustrated, I feel like I am not going anywhere and the more I dig in my history even tho it answers why I get rabid, furious.

I was the kid, I was too young, I was modeled to be the perfect victim, I was too naive, too autistic, too mentally ill.

It is not fair that I have to carry the pain and the hurt that was given to me until this point. It isn’t fair that I’ve lost a decade or decades of my life because of everything that has been done to me.

And for them it was a fucking Tuesday man.

How’s that?

It’s not fair that I met angel and I felt like Molly in the last unicorn.

Why do you come to me now that I am all broken and used? Why did t you come earlier?

I feel broken, defective.

I keep making plans for a healthy sane woman or whatever I am

But no, I am sick and broken and don’t function like someone whole.

So I gave up, I’m trying to follow my clinical rest, sleep and rest, I haven’t dared doodle or go get some sun but I’m working on it, I am taking half a pharmacy, forcing myself to eat even if all food looks like fucking poison,

I am in extreme burnout, I am audhd, have a very serious depression, I have bpd, I have did….

I have more stuff cuz I’m just god’s favorite

But I guess this is a journey or acceptance and exploration.

I am having coffee cuz it makes me happy tho i shouldn’t.

I think I should stop writing here, see you next time, void.

[wellthebardsdead]

Marigold: *standing quietly by his guards and father amongst a gathering of the thalmor across all classes from the lowest new recruits hailing from the farmlands and slums, to the royal family themselves. His hair bound back in a tight strict braid, his robes dark and equally restrictive, and his expression solemn but beautiful behind his fan as he tries to keep cool in Alinors summer heat* …hm? *glances over at a group of new recruits excitedly taking the dance floor with a striking, fast and powerful dance, something the older generation would scoff at and his father would gladly break his legs all over again for even daring to think about attempting*

Lord Varla: Hmph. Look at them. Leaping about like territorial mudskippers. I’ve seen peacocks behave with more restraint, aren’t you glad I chose Ancano to be your betrothed rather than handing you over to these, rabid hounds.

Marigold: yes father. *blinks catching the eye of a very unusual Mer. Dark hair making him stand out from all others in the room, with eyes like emeralds and a charming smile to contrast his sharp and calculating movements. The dance like a battle between all of them, and he was winning effortlessly* hm. *looks up at his father* may I go get some refreshments father? It’s so warm tonight.

Lord Varla: as you wish. And- do avoid engaging with the rabble if you can. The only mer your age you should be engaging with is Caryalind.

Marigold: yes father. *quietly walks off to the refreshments as the song ends and with it the dance, his eyes locked firmly onto the emerald eyed mer with the short dark hair as he goes by, before losing sight of him as the crowd disburses once more, some pairing up for a slower dance, others running off to grab a bite to eat or snuggle up to their betters* Ah- *tries to see past the crowd, younger and more arrogant Mer not knowing who he is or his status simply pushing him this way and that to get past him* ow- hey! That h-hurts! Ugh you insolent ba- *blinks as he feels someone’s hand take his in an unfamiliarly, gentle, grasp* wha- *gasps as the crowd parts and he’s pulled safely from the chaos into the arms of the Mer who’d captured his attention*

Taliesin: *swiftly lets him go remembering his place* A-Ah, a-are you alright my lord?

Marigold: *face flushing a rose gold, some of his curls broken free from his braid and framing his face as his eyes widen and almost sparkle in awe up at him* I-I, y-yes- Yes. *clears his throat and fixes himself before offering his hand to him* and to whom do I owe thanks for saving me?

Taliesin: *mind so focused on his gaze he didn’t even realise he’d spoken* hm? *looks at his hand before panicking* oh! Ah- *takes his hand to kiss it* I’m-

???: LAN-

Taliesin: *jumps hearing part of his name screamed by the familiar voice of his superior* s-sir I was-

Marigold: *steps forward as the justiciar approaches* it’s alright captain, he saved me from some of your more unruly subordinates. *smiles at taliesin* it was nice meeting you, Lan. *walks off quietly*

*several years later*

Taliesin: YOURE MARIGOLD VARLA?! THE MARIGOLD VARLA?! THE BETROTHED TO ANCANO MARIGOLD VARLA?! AND YOU DIDNT THINK ABOUT TELLING ME!?!

Marigold: it didn’t seem important I expected to be dead by now.

[emotional-moss]

transmasc rapunzel

there is a lot that they don’t tell you about rapunzel.

firstly, he was a young man. many mistook and continue to mistake him for a young lady.

secondly, he chose his name himself. before that, he had another one, one forgotten and whittled away.

he lived in a tower, hair long and fair, made up in pretty skirts with frilly sleeves. not by his own wishes.

his mother loved him. but she didn’t see him.

his mother looked at him and only saw a princess.

“just you wait,” she would tell him, patting his locks. “one day when you outgrow this silly phase i’ll let you see the world.”

like his hair and his namesake, though, rapunzel grew and grew and grew and the phase continued, like a moon in stasis.

one day, rapunzel’s mother was off traveling.

“i’m going to buy some paints,” she said, and waved him goodbye. “you stay in your tower, young lady.”

he tipped his hair out the window so she could climb down, silently wondering when it would be his turn.

a day or so later, while he was painting his walls and singing to himself, he heard a voice calling from below the tower. 

“ ———! let down your hair!”

frowning, he made his way to the window. “who are you?” he called.

the man below him was chiseled, muscular, well-dressed, everything rapunzel was not.

the strange man bowed. “i found my way here by chance, milady, and heard your singing, like a nightingale. i thought it only right to free you.”

rapunzel was a bit flattered, although displeased by the man mistaking him as a girl. “well, thank you, sir. would you like to come up?”

“if i may,” he said, and smiled, teeth pearly-white and sharp.

rapunzel was enchanted by this knightly man the moment he stepped foot in his tower. 

he was a picture-perfect prince, chivalrous and kind, or so it seemed - so he said.

he took more care of rapunzel than his mother did, which wasn’t much. he preferred to spend his time boasting of his achievements.

even worse, whenever rapunzel hesitantly tried to clarify that he was a boy, the man would laugh uproariously and tell him he wasn’t - and would never be.

it had only been a few hours when rapunzel burst out of his seat and cried, “leave my tower at once!”

the man looked affronted. “how dare you? what have i done to warrant such disrespect?”

“all you do is talk about yourself! you ignore me, belittle me. i mention here and there that i’m a young man, and you treat me like nothing.”

“i treat you like a princess should be treated,” barked the man. he bared his teeth, still pearly and sharp, like a wild, rabid dog’s teeth.

“no one should be treated like this. no princess, no prince, no one else,” rapunzel declared.

“you are a heinous woman,” the man snarled, grabbing rapunzel’s hair roughly and brandishing his sword at him. he yelped and dodged the sword, staggering towards the window in pain.

“i may be heinous, but i am most of all a man,” he responded, tossing his hair until it flowed out the window, the man dangling from it.

“never come near my tower or me again,” he hissed, grabbed the man’s abandoned sword, and chopped off all of his hair.

he felt a weight leave him as the man crashed to the ground, yelling and muffled by his severed locks.

standing at the window, he felt the breeze fly through his shorn hair. for the first time in years, he felt free.

many days later, he heard another voice call up to his tower.

“hello, hello! is anyone there?” called a high voice.

“what do you want?” he called back.

“there is someone! pray come to the window and talk to me for a bit.”

grudgingly, rapunzel obliged.

the man below him was dressed shoddily, face smeared with dirt. his hair stuck in all directions, his only weapon a small knife.

“pleasant greetings to you!” the man waved. his voice was high pitched, like rapunzel’s. “my name is campanula, and you?”

“rapunzel,” he said, and crossed his arms. “why have you come here?”

“i stumbled across your tower while searching for food. i’m quite hungry,” he sighed. “would you mind offering food to a sorry young man like me?”

despite his wariness, rapunzel had a kind heart, and relented quickly. “if you wish,” he said.

then a thought struck him. “oh, i’m so sorry. i have nothing to pull you up with; all my hair has been shorn.”

to his surprise, campanula simply grabbed a protruding stone from the tower and began to scramble up. he laughed, a bit bemused. “why would i need your hair?”

“my mother always used it to climb up here,” said rapunzel, still in awe. “so did the last man. how could you come up on your own?”

“sometimes, one has to be self-sufficient,” campanula said. “i would never rely on someone else for everything; how unfair to them, and to me!”

“i see,” said rapunzel. he had never thought of it that way. his awkward distaste for his mother and the previous man made more sense now.

he served this visitor some bread and butter, and they struck up a conversation.

it had been days and campanula still hadn’t left, much to rapunzel’s pleasure. he was a nice young man to have around, and he was certainly kinder and more accommodating than his mother.

one day, he asked his companion, “i’ve been meaning to ask you. your voice is so high, like mine - why?”

campanula shrugged. “when i was born, everyone told me i was a girl.”

“i insisted in my heart of hearts that i wasn’t, and most people have accepted it. i am a young man; nevertheless, hints of femininity stay with me.”

rapunzel was astonished and overjoyed. “me too!” he cried. “all my life my mother has told me i am a girl, but i know i am a boy.”

campanula seized his hands in his, smiling. “others like you and me exist! you are a fine young man, rapunzel.”

he felt tears fall from his eyes, but with freedom instead of pain. “thank you, thank you,” he cried, and kissed campanula quickly on each cheek.

flushed and pleased, the other man leaned backwards. “sweet prince,” he said, “shall we leave this tower and find new horizons to explore?”

“oh, that would be heaven,” rapunzel cried, face pink. “if i could be by your side in the world, i would be happy.”

“then, my dear, we shall go!”

holding hands, they climbed slowly down the tower, campanula teaching rapunzel where to place his feet.

rapunzel took a deep, shaky breath, his bare feet touching the wet grass for the first time. 

hand in hand, they stepped forward into the sunlight.

[chickensarentcheap]

Last one. I'm very rarely proud of my own stuff so please allow me to indulge :)

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @mrsmungus @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @theesirenteller @asirensrage @residentdormouse @kmc1989 @karimac @alisbackalleybbq

“Mister Rake, it would be in their best interest if…”

“It would be in their best interest if I took them to Australia and never brought them back here. That is MY family. Not yours. I just got Esme back. After the longest five years of my life. And you’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’d ever walk away from her. Or my kid.”

“You did it once before. You have a history of just walking away.”

Finishing the the remains of his coffee, he pushes his chair away from the table stands. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m NOT that guy anymore. I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“You will ALWAYS be that guy. “

“When I met Esme, everything changed. I changed. She made me want to be a better man. And I know I’m far from perfect; I’ve got tons of baggage and issues and I can be messy as fuck. But I also know that I love her. That I can give her a good life and be everything she needs me to be. So you can take that extra five million and shove it up your ass.”

“I think in your heart of hearts you know what I’m saying is true. That’s why it’s bothering you as much as it is.”

“It’s bothering me because it’s bullshit. I’m more than capable of taking care of Esme. And Millie. I don’t what kind of weird, fucked up feelings you have for Esme, but to stoop this low? That’s fucked.”

Angrily pushing his chair away from the table, Winston stalks across the patio; blocking Tyler from stepping into the suite. His voice low. Menacing. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“I don’t like thinking it, let alone saying it. But this? Whatever you’ve got going on for Esme? It goes way beyond just loving someone like they’re your own kid. You’ve got some kind of twisted, gross obsession going on, mate. It’s like you want to keep her under your thumb and locked away from the rest of the world. Keep her around so you’ve got something young and pretty to look at. What are you going to do? Spend the rest of your life hoping she’s going to wake up one day and want you in the same way? It’s fucked up. And you damn well know it.”

“Do I need to remind you that you’re in my home? My kingdom? I don’t tolerate disrespect, Mister Rake. You were already treading on very thin ice. So to even suggest…”

“I don’t want your money. I don’t want ANY money. Not when it comes to protecting my own family. This is far from being just a job. It’s personal. So if you don’t back off, you’ll find out just how dangerous and unhinged I can be.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Consider it a warning. Esme’s a grown woman. She’s more than capable of making her own decisions when it comes to what to do with her life. And who she wants in that life. She’s made her decision perfectly clear. I wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want me to be. Watch your step, Winston. Because when it comes to her? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe.”

“I should have you dragged out of here and put down like a rabid dog in the street.”

He smirks. “I’d like to see your people try.”

[saint-viscera]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐄𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞

CW’s- disturbing themes such as hints of murder and graphic violence, slightly a bit suggestive at the end but it’s to understand the characters dynamics and it’s not descriptive cus I’m a minor**. This is a horror story, reader discretion advised.

Rufus had always loved hunting. Not for sport, but for the thrill of chasing something, watching it breathe hard, almost feeling the life seep out of it before the final strike. To him, that was the purest form of control—having someone completely in his grasp, when they were scared. But Amma was different. She wasn’t prey; she was something more.

He watched her in the water, eyes tracking the slow ripple of her arms, the lazy flutter of her legs. She moved like water—slipping through his fingers, never quite in his hold. But tonight, he’d make sure she understood what he knew all along. They were meant to be.

She climbed out of the lake, dripping, her skin shimmering under the moonlight. For a moment, he stood still. She caught him staring, and smiled, but there was a hesitation in her green eyes, the kind that had always stayed whenever he got close.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice softer, sensing the shift in the air between them.

“Nothing,” he replied, taking a slow step forward. “Just thinking about you.”

Her brow furrowed, the smile fading into a frown. “Thinking about me?”

He nodded, closing the distance, his pulse quickening. “Yeah. About how beautiful you are. How much I love you.”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. “Rufus, you’re not making any damn sense.”

His grin was slow, forced, the smile not reaching his eyes. “It’s just like that story I told you, remember? Eros and Psyche.”

Amma paused, her body tensing slightly. “What about it?”

“Eros loved Psyche even when she couldn’t see him. They were meant to be together, even though they had to go through all kinds of trials to understand it. That’s us, Amma. It’s always been us. I could kill anyone who hurt you, Whoever made you like this, I’d kill them just to make you smile more”.

Her lips parted, her eyes scanning his face for a moment. “Rufus…”

He remembered when she’d elbowed him in the gut the third day they spent together after the long bus rides. Since then she’d opened up to him , only if she allowed it. Like when he bought her ice cones and she let him share the dye on her tongue. That was what he was searching for in all the girls he’d killed, and carved up in his shed. Amma was different from all of them. She carved him necklaces out of bone and squeezed his nape when he got out of turn. Rufus hadn’t lived before her.

He stepped closer, his voice low but intense. “I love you, Amma. Just like Eros loved Psyche. We’re supposed to be together. You’ll see that, just like she did.”

Amma held his gaze, her posture stiffening as if readying herself for something. “Rufus… this isn’t a story. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “But love’s not easy.” The knife in his pocket felt heavy but he wasn’t planning on using it till tomorrow. Now, he wanted to remember her fully, and maybe it would be easier for him to bury his knife into her chest. Take her heart for his and no one else’s . Rufus wrote it down in the journal he wouldn’t let her peep at. It was his sacred plan.

“Sometimes you have to fight for love .Just like those gods did.”

The tension between them thickened, the night air growing heavier. Amma shifted her weight, her muscles taut beneath her skin. She’d always been tough, always tried to keep her distance. But Rufus didn’t mind. He liked it when she pushed back.

She stepped closer instead of pulling away, surprising him. “Do you really believe that?” she asked, her voice firm but quiet.

“More than anything,” he answered, his eyes locked onto hers, rabid and frenzied. “I love you so, so much, it makes me do crazy things , Amma. And I’ll prove it.”

There was fear in her eyes, and something more dangerous—he couldn’t place. Her lips curved slightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Then, don’t let me go”.

As the humid night closed in on them, there was no tenderness in his touch, only hunger—a need to be closer, as though he could live beneath her skin. With her, Rufus felt himself die again and again. Whatever this was, it was wild, it stung and kissed like it was the end of the world and she was the apocalypse itself.

When it was over, Rufus laid against her , drenched in sweat and musk. Amma’s hand tangled in his hair, braiding it slowly. Rufus chewed on cherries he had kept in a knapsack for them to snack on. He was thinking about tomorrow. He had touched her now, and she hadn’t pushed him away. She loved him. Rufus knew it, just like he knew the freckles on her back.

There was a bite mark at the nape of his neck that she had left. It drew blood, but Rufus didn’t care. he was hers now. Still, it pained him that she wasn’t his yet. He had to do what he had done to rest of them, it was the only way.

Tomorrow, he’d make her his by stabbing her heart and pulling it out. Only for his to keep.

She wouldn’t leave him this way. Not even in death.

[spaceumbredoggos]

So Mych For Stardust Chapter Twenty

I woke up at noon, checking in on Dipper. He was passed out in his deer form, nuzzling my wing. I yawned, transforming back into human form and checking my phone. Finding nothing important, I nudged Dipper awake.

“Wah…” Dipper rose his head groggily as I tried to transform back into umbredpggo form. “What happened last night.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” But Dipper wasn’t buying it. His fur bristled and his ears swiveled back to the sides of his head. “Wait, I never was able to move my ears before.”

Shit. Dipper tried to stand up on two legs, but face planted with his antlers into the bed. “What happened to me? Why do I have antlers?”

“Remember that bite wound that’s on your torso when you’re a human.”

“You mean I’m not a human right now?” I shook my head calmly, trying to stroke Dipper to calm him down. “You have rabies. And you have a tendency to transform into a weredego. Werewolf Wendigo. This is why you look like a cross between a wolf and a deer right now. You’ll eventually be able to control this, but it’s important that you rest and don’t freak out.”

“Don’t freak out? How can I not freak out? I’m a monster.”

“Believe me. I’ve been there.” I took a deep breath, holding Dipper to calm him down. “You’re kinda cured of rabies, but you still go through rabid phases. That explains the gap in your memory, as well as the attacks.”

“Attacks?” I kept trying to stroke Dipper to prevent another rabid phase. “Easy. Any intense emotion can bring back another rabid phase. Calm down. Take a deep breath. In. And out. And in…” I noticed that Dipper was able to swallow his own saliva again, causing me to breathe a sigh of relief. “Because your throat can still spasm, you’re going to be on a liquid diet for a while.”

Dipper started whining and getting more agitated. “Easy. Easy.”

“Don’t ’easy easy’ me!!”

I rolled my eyes, noticing Dipper’s hackles raise. “Dipper. I know you’re scared and confused. But some day, you’ll be able to control this.”

Dipper snarled, his mouth starting to froth again. The kid’s gonna starve himself to death if he can’t learn to calm himself down on his own soon. I felt myself transform into my umbredoggo form, arching defensively and preparing for Dipper’s next attack. Dipper snarled as I fanned out my wings. “I see you. You’re agitated. You’re scared. You don’t know what’s going on. I’ve been there. Just calm down and I can get you something to drink. How about some choccy milk?”

Dipper charged, locking antlers with me. I stood still as stone, digging my claws into the floor. I stood there, letting Dipper tire himself out falling and trying to get his antlers unstuck. The froth disappeared from his mouth as he turned his head away. He growled once before bolting away. I dashed after him. “Where are you going?”

“Leave me alone!!”

“I can’t! If you bite someone, they’ll get rabies too. Unless they get a bunch of shots.”

“I thought I was cured!”

“You still carry the virus in your saliva. I’m immune, so I have to be around you at all times so that when you get that bitey urge, you bite me. And not Mabel or Stan or Ford or—“

Dipper tackled me against the wall. “You can fight me all you want on this, but it won’t help. You can fight against the virus. Even though it will always be in your system, it doesn’t have to control you.” I drooped my ears, flailing to get out of Dipper’s grasp.

I heard a knock on the door. “In a minute. I’m dealing with something.” But the door opened anyways. It was Eda. “Quick question.”

“Yeah?” Eda chuckled at the sight of me being pinned at the wall. “This isn’t some kinky shit. Dipper and I are frenemies. He’s got rabies and, can witches catch rabies?”

“No.” I turned around and tackled Dipper, trying to calm him down. “Is there a witchy way you can snap anyone out of rabies?” I panted, my ears drooping. “I want to help him. And I want him to be okay. I want him to not need me. I want him to be okay, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever have that. I want all these things because it tears me apart to see someone stripped of their autonomy due to circumstances outside their control like that.” I held the tears in as Dipper started to calm down. He noticed the tears welling in my eyes and nuzzled my chest. “Dipper. Your antlers are poking me.”

“Kenz.” Dipper’s eyes widened. I let him go and noticed him turn back human. I did the same and collapsed in exhaustion, panting and sweating. “Kenz Kenz Kenz!!!”

“Dipper, you’re gonna get exhausted a lot doing this.” He blushed as I accidentally leaned against him. “Kenz, you keep putting yourself through way too much abuse.”

“It’s not like you could’ve helped it at the time.” I tried to keep my resolve, but almost broke down remembering the trauma from when I used to lose control with my meltdowns when I was a kid. “You treat the symptoms as is with no hard feelings. I understand that you’re feeling off, and it terrified you that you just lost control like that. I’d act like a total jackass too. Because I’ve been there. I’ve scared myself with my own actions. But now I know it’s not me. Just like it’s not you.”

Dipper helped me up to the bed. “Eda, can you get a box of Choccy Milk from the fridge? I’d get it myself, but Dipper tore a hole in my leg with his antlers and I think he hit something that’s a little important given how dizzy I feel.” I leaned on Dipper as the room started spinning. “Kenz!!!” Dipper gazed at the wound on my leg. I noticed him immediately try to stop the bleeding with a bunch of towels. He took his shirt off and tied it around the towels as a makeshift tourniquet. “Dipper. Don’t take your shirt off. You’re not helping the romance allegations.”

Dipper blushed and patted my head. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle yourself—“

I bit his hand. “Fuck!!!” He burst out laughing as I let go. “Who’s the jackass now?”

“There’s nothing between us. We’re friends.”

“I see you blushing.”

“Oh, so you really want this, eh?” I pinned him down, glaring at him intimidatingly. He blushed and caressed my face. Well, there’s only one way to teach him this lesson. I pressed my lips against his, kissing him passionately. Dipper pinned me down and nibbled on my neck. I nuzzled him, purring.

I heard a knock on the door and Dipper and I immediately stopped what we were doing. “Nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” Dipper gazed into my eyes. Eda walked in with the choccy milk. “See Kenz? The cure to rabies isn’t venom. It’s love.”

“Shut the fuck up. We’re only friends.”

“Yeah!!! Just friends!!!” Dipper bashed me with his pillow as I burst out laughing. “I still hate your guts.”

“The feelings mutual.” I gazed into his brown eyes. “Kenz.”

“What?”

“You know your neck is full of hickeys and there’s a massive bite mark on Dipper’s neck.” Eda said in a matter of fact tone. I sat up, moving to the other side of the bed. Dipper laughed. “Pacifica’s gonna kill me.”

It was in that instant that my heart tore in half. “Dipper, about that…” I sighed, meeting him in the eye. “The virus, still being in your system, can be spread through semen and saliva. You could give Pacifica rabies. I already briefed her about the implications of this.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes. “Was this your plan all along? With your umbredoggo form?”

“Did you think I would seriously hit on you the moment I moved in?”

“But you were in heat.”

“I was with Bee the entire time.” I snarled, glaring at Dipper back. “So that’s what you are? A—“

I growled lowly. “Whatever. Spread your rabies to the entire house for all I care. You’re not having me to yourself.”

“I’d say the same to you if it wasn’t such a horrible way to die.”

“So you’re guilt tripping me?”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem is that you think that because you have this oh so dark and tragic past that you can—“

“Say it!!!” I started to fume, glaring at Dipper. He shook, then punched me in the jaw. I was knocked backwards into the floor. “You know what? Forget it. We’re both idiot teenagers who don’t know what the fuck to do with ourselves. Taken advantage of by biology and terrible circumstances. If you wanna shame me for that, then go ahead. But for the record. I wasn’t gonna fuck you. I never wanted to fuck you. You were the one who started this by tenderly touching my face. If there was anyone who wanted someone’s ass, it was you.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this.” Dipper snarled, causing me to lunge at him. I held back, but Dipper didn’t flinch. He glared at me as I held back the tears. “This isn’t you.” I sighed.

“Why do you keep saying that??”

“We never even had any romantic feelings toward each other before you got infected with rabies. You change from horny ass fucker to snapping Rottweiler in the blink of an eye. This isn’t you. Rabies just causes violent personality changes because the virus scrambles the brain.”

“You can keep telling yourself that to dodge the responsibility of your actions.”

“What actions?” For a second, I thought I saw Dipper’s eyes flash yellow. I froze in fear, almost seeing two Dippers. The second, more translucent Dipper was tearing up, just as shocked as I was. I shook and turned around. Of course this behavior is familiar. I curled up on the bed, flashing back to all the fights Bill and I went through. Then all the times him and I would make out or fuck to make up for it. I remembered all the times my dad and step mom would fight, then make the house shake making up. I turned and fled, tears streaming down my face. There’s gotta be another cure for this.

It was at that moment that Eda figured it out too. Her face was stricken with horror beyond comprehension. I bolted in my umbredoggo form towards the lake. I noticed a group of cats walking around. I paused, sniffing the air. There’s cat scent everywhere.

The group of cats from before noticed me. The head of the group, a battlescarred grey and white tabby she cat with ice blue eyes, flared her ragged pelt out and snarled. “ThunderClan! There’s a fox on our territory!!!”

“Fox?” I backed away slowly, sniffing around to find the border. Cats flanked me at all sides, snarling. “It talks?” A golden tabby tom with a lion’s mane and golden eyes flared out his pelt and tackled me, pinning me to the ground. He sounds like Stan.

“What kind of fox has antlers?”

“Look at the claws on this thing. And what’s those thorns on their wrists and tail?”

“And wings like a bat? Are you seeing this, Ivypool?”

The whole group erupted into chatter. I was pinned down by the golden tabby tom, his claws digging into my pelt. I panted as the grey and white she cat walked up to meet my gaze. “What is your name?”

I tried to play dumb, making a couple of fox noises. “We know you can talk. What is your name?”

Does being an umbredoggo mean I understand cats? I panted, drooping my ears to the sides of my head. “I-I’m Kenz. I’m just passing through. Usually, cats run away from me, because usually I’m a human.”

“Human? What in StarClan’s name is that?” The she cat bristled as I shrank down, demonstrating that I was indeed a human. “Twoleg.”

“A twoleg that can transform into a monster.”

“We have a shapeshifter in ThunderClan territory!!”

“ThunderClan, to me.” The grey and white she cat called her clanmates to her. “A strange twoleg has appeared on our territory. A twoleg that can understand us.” I backed away slowly, knowing not to run. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not in the mood to be mauled to death by cats thank you very much. Cats generally don’t want anything to do with twolegs unless they’re kittypets and—“

“How do you know Clanspeak?” There golden tabby bristled. “Look, there’s these books that depict how the clans live and I’m just making educated guesses based on what I’ve read.”

“Books? Read?”

“It doesn’t matter. Now Eda knows about the strange clans of cats that lived by the lake. I of course thought it was a coincidence that she mentioned that. She said they knew a lot about herbs that heal, and…”

“So more twolegs know about us?” The she cat snarled. I then remembered reading in Ford’s first journal that I had found a few weeks ago about his accounts of a group of cats that lived in a forest. The cats eerily resembled the Clan Cats in the Warrior cats books. The Warrior cats are real. And Ford knew about them. But how did he study them? Is this an alternate universe thing?

“I’ve heard enough. A twoleg that knows about clan life is too dangerous to let go. Especially one that can transform into a monster at will.”

“I mean you no harm. I was just having a meltdown induced run through the woods and I stumbled across your territory. Please let me go.”

“You’re coming with us to see Squirrelstar.” I backed away slowly, trying to turn around to run. Cats flanked me at every turn. I shook as I was knocked down by the golden tabby tom. The wind was knocked out of me as I gasped. Come on Kenz. You can’t lose a fight to cats.

I turned and faced the golden tabby tom. I squirmed out of his grip and started to run, but tripped on a root and knocked my head on a tree branch, passing out from the impact.

[retcon-writer]

9/5/23

The sound of the thunder scares me to death. It’s not the sort of thing you’d expect from someone like me, scrawny as I am. Weak people like me generally need to be quick to be brave against the world to survive around here- not that I’ve had a chance to go elsewhere, what with the tight security around nowadays. Impossible to leave without a permit, I tell you. Not that I don’t get it, what with the recent events and missing persons incidents, everyone’s scared outta their mind… running around like rabid rats if you ask me.

No… rats are harder than people. It’s because they’re weaker, so they can sense danger better. It used to scare the hell outta me, I always found them so ominous as a young ‘un. Always lingering around, watching, thinking…

Of course I figured that was a load of hot air when I caught and cooked my first one, I suppose the fact I hadn’t done so already was what allowed me to catch it so easily. Y’see, the weak also hope. They hope for the companionship of someone stronger, someone to protect them- not that I’m like that, I just noticed that in others… no, perhaps that was a lie.

But this hope, I noticed it, and took advantage of it, the rats, they skitter around so frantically when they realise one of their brethren have gone missing. Luckily, I had a talent for cleaning- as my last occupation left me with lots of experience and a bruised eye on my way out, and I am very good at keeping myself clean because of it. I’d just simply revisit the rat den and they’d welcome me- hoping with all their beady eyes that I’d either feed them or drop dead, I made sure to snag one on my way out when they were all focused on their own activities.

That kept me going for a good while, but soon they’d install curfews and guards stationed around, hoping it’d help; I found it very cute. All I’d need to do is call out with promises of food or throw an off-hand insult from an alleyway to get a drunk to come down with a score to settle- though I tend to avoid them, processed alcohol isn’t as nice as you’d think, and I need to keep a straight head to remain careful. And here I’ve gone on and on and I realise, I haven’t been scared of them since I gutted my first. They were no longer indecipherable beings that always seemed to watch, I no longer had issues figuring out what they were thinking while looking at me: pity for a poor child, desire for companionship of a fellow weakling, rage at a brat that had called them a “lumbering oaf”, fear of prey looking up at their predator.

I used to do it for the food, but nowadays I just do it for the sport, thrill of the hunt and all that- but it truly is an amusing game, even if the other players don’t feel the same way. And if they truly don’t wish to play, they can always leave; as if! Guards have set this district in a more or less complete lockdown. And everyone knows it’s not to hold the culprit here; it’s for the people. They can’t have the other districts overflow, or have people leave the city, otherwise what would happen to their precious tax income? And of course they need their guinea pigs- lambs of slaughter I say- to get more hints and clues to further their limping investigation. I’ve noticed they’ve been cursing their protectors more than their killers on their deathbed as of late; not that I’ve suddenly grown a bleeding heart, personally I find it quite amusing. I have to say though, I do pity the lower ranks of the guards that do the actual investigating. Higher brass who locked ‘em in here are safe in their ivory towers (they aren’t) while the guards down here come across my rosy works and barf, which is quite rude if I have to say.

Oh yeah, I’ve been getting into art as well recently. I know it’s bad taste, but “what is art if not a way to express oneself”- I think someone once said that to me anyway. Recently I’ve been thinking this pond has gotten a bit small for me, I think I’ll likely see what a district closer to the castle has to offer, perhaps I’ll have some towers to climb.

But for now, I’ve noticed a few rats following me again, it’s not very rare but not exactly common either, so I’ll have to take care of this, making as little ‘a commotion as possible, I bid thee adieu.

I think I’ll be able to make a pretty flower with these ones.

[makairodonx]

Keiko’s Strange New Job Offer Part l

A couple of years had passed ever since Keiko Yamamoto went on an arduous journey through many dangerous lands with Robby Hide the wood-elf and Vicky the Raccoon to destroy the Golden Orb with her magic and finally restore peace and order to the world. Now it was autumn, and some of the trees’ leaves were swept away by the wind, while others were donning shiny coats of gold, orange, red, and brown and anywhere in between.

Keiko was sitting and eating dumplings in her cottage by the Borderland Woods, until a crow swooped through the window carrying some very strange news. “What’s this?” Keiko pulled out an envelope from its beak, opened it to see a notice, and read aloud the following words:

“Caretaker of Hideous Creatures is needed - demons and monsters have been terrorizing the farmers of the Low-Lands and devouring their livestock over the past few months, and only someone with magical powers for dealing with the fiends can stop them! - Pay starts off at 2,500 Gold Marks per week.”

“Now that’s quite interesting…” Keiko continued. “And it looks like I do have the qualifications necessary for the job of being a Caretaker of Hideous Creatures!”

With these words Keiko stepped out of her cottage and headed straight towards the Low-Lands. Within two days’ worth of questionnaires, a small exam to test her magic spells, and getting herself settled, Keiko was finally given the details of her first assignment by a mysterious old woman in a purple cloak.

One evening, the sorceress visited the household of Farmer Morris. “I am Keiko Yamamoto,” she said to him, “and I’m a Caretaker of Hideous Creatures. Have you had any encounters with demons or monsters lately?”

“Uh yes, Keiko,” said the farmer, “A big, fiendish fairy with huge, pointy ears and sharp claws and fangs came and killed three of my sheep last night…And when I tried to stop him by hitting him with my pitchfork…he attacked me and I had to lock myself up in my house!” He sobbed and showed the sorceress three large marks etched onto his right arm.

“So…” Asked Keiko, “are you really sure the fairy is still lurking around somewhere in your farm?”

“Yes I am…I think the fairy is still hiding in the barn…and eating up all my chickens! But be careful! He’s very dangerous and will lunge at anyone standing in his way!”

“Don’t worry, Farmer Morris,” Keiko replied, “I’ll handle that fiend with my spells. That’s what a Caretaker of Hideous Creatures does!”

“All right…” Morris said. “I’ll trust you for your work, Keiko!”

Thus the sorceress stepped out of the farmer’s house in the middle of the moonlit night and headed straight to the barn where the fairy was hiding. From the tip of her staff a white light illuminated the ground in front of her as countless crickets chirped noisily in the corn fields around her.

Once Keiko reached the barn, she opened the door and lit up the floor with the radiant, white light from her staff. Soon enough she found a strange, humanoid creature the size of a small bear crouching in one corner near a stable with a half-eaten chicken still caught in its jaws. It had pale green skin, long, pointy ears, and huge, glowing red eyes. The fairy bared its teeth at Keiko under the light of her staff and slowly approached her on all fours like a rabid coyote.

“Don’t come any closer, you fiend…” Keiko held her staff straight at the fairy’s face as she stepped a few paces backwards out of the barn. “Don’t come any closer, or else I’ll strike you down with a lightning spell…”

The creature rose upon its hind legs, stretched out its arms, and snarled ferociously at the sorceress. “We the Sidhe….Only kill…for food!” He growled in a low, raspy voice. Then with much abandon the fairy unged at her like a leopard hiding in the bushes.

“Kapasto!” Keiko swung her staff upon the fairy’s face. There was a blinding flash of red light and the fairy was instantly knocked down onto the ground a few paces in front of her. The sorceress then approached it, crouched down and gently poked its arms and cheeks to check if it was still moving.

“Hmmm…I guess the fairy has been finally dealt with…And thus I believe I’ve completed my first task so far…”

Keiko picked up the fairy’s dead body by the hand and brought it to the feet of Farmer Morris upon entering his house.

“Look, Father-um, I meant Farmer Morris,” she said, “I’ve cast a lightning spell upon the fairy, and you and your livestock will now be safe at last!”

“Thank goodness, Keiko!” The farmer hugged the girl with a big, joyous smile on his face. “I know you’ll be doing a great job of being a Caretaker of Hideous Creatures! Oh, my wife will be proud of you as soon as I tell her about you dealt with that fairy in the quickest way possible!”

“How nice!” Keiko said. “Will you let me whisk the fairy away, if you please?”

With a sweeping gesture of her left hand, the fairy’s corpse vanished into a speck of thin air.

“And that, so far, was just the first task I’ve ever completed as part of my job. Soon I will be dealing with hideous creature-problems plaguing other peoples’ farms or households, and I’ll probably be getting a pay of 50 Gold Marks a day or up to 2,500 Gold Marks per week. But for now, since I’m getting hungry, would it be possible for you to give a small dinner for me before I leave?”

“For sure, if you may!” Farmer Morris replied. “I’ll cook a Roast Dinner for you and I to eat, and my wife Jena will be coming and she’ll make some white tea for all three of us!”

“Good!” Keiko smiled.

Thus the farmer, staying true to his word, provided with sorceress and himself with some freshly-cooked food to eat. In front of the fireplace the two sat at the kitchen table and ate hearty dishes consisting of broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbages, carrots, mashed potatoes and roasted meat together. And once Farmer Jena came for dinner, she served everyone her special white tea, and Morris talked to her about how Keiko saved his livelihood from the malicious livestock-eating fairy as part of her first task of being a Caretaker of Magical Creatures. Afterwards Keiko bade farewell to the couple, thanked them for their hospitality, and finally departed their household under the pale, white light of a bright full moon.

[blazewatergem]

Hey y’all know how I said a day or two ago(haha what’s time?) how I needed to remind myself I have too many WIPs? Because I was trying to be a reasonable human being? And act like I’d be responsible rather than a feral WIP hoarder?

Yeah toss that rightttt out of a five story window. Through mixed waves of nostalgia, excitement, and the fact that I’ve become a far better fanfic writer compared to my FF.net days(shudders) I’m thinking of returning to a fandom. Which, I think might have been my first ever fandom? The first one I ever actively tried to make stuff for.

The stuff wasn’t awesome lmao I can look back and laugh at it but damn old me wtf were you ON—

Point is, I’m thinking of dragging up and redoing some of my old old old stories. Which, makes me really excited. It’d be awesome to give something I really love a new coat of paint, y’know? I also know though that - or I think at least - not a ton of my mutuals are involved in this fandom. Wouldn’t blame you, it’s a long-lived one that’s already been through one reboot(which I admit, I side eye it. Just a bit.)

That being said, I’m gonna talk more about my plans for the stories under here so I don’t spam my mutuals/friends with a fandom they aren’t in. If you wanna check em out, you know where to click, and know I’m grateful for whoever wants to listen to a rabid lil writer like me 💜

Love y’all

SO LEGO NINJAGO RIGHT ->

Holy SHIT I loved that series. I still love that series. Honestly though I loved the first season of it, with the Serpentine tribes, more than the other seasons but even the other seasons were fuckin’ GREAT.

I always wanted to add a little more mystic-ness to the story though. Like, looking through my old stuff, I definitely had great ideas and never pulled them off.

That stops today. I’ve grown as a writer! I know proper grammar now! I know how to make awesome plot lines and cool OCs! I GOT THIS!!

One of the stories was a Ninjago-Maximum Ride crossover, which I think I’m gonna revamp entirely. Toss out the old and put in the new with a addition of witchcraft, worldbuilding, and me finally screaming about how in canon the Serpentine were heavily fucked over time and time again. For real, someone give me permission to go off. I’ll holler like a dog.

Second story was introducing a group of humanized Phoenixes and not much else lmao. Never got as far as the first chapter of Nya joining the group, would need also to be restarted because of the simple fact that it never grew past that point.

The third story which was involving a group of serial killers(made after my journey through Creepypasta woods) and the fourth which had dragons from a different universe(which were the girls from House of Anubis, stolen lol) will both just…be put away for good. I’m not sure I wanna doing these back, both for now or forever. I’m glad for them, but perhaps those sleeping dogs can simply rest.

Also I’m gonna outright bitch now because I was wrong I can’t hold it in I don’t need permission. What the hell. What the hell was that thing they did in the first season. The Serpentine were literally locked up alive underground, no way of escape. Pythor had to cannibalize his own people. He became the last of his kind. Isn’t that genocide? That was a whole tribe except for one dude wiped out that is fucking tragic. He had every right to go nuts I cannot believe that was included in episode FOUR of a CHILDRENS SHOW.

I love this series.