#the bone sharks are TERRIFYING to me

[mrslittletall]

Yesterday I played a bit of Subnautica. I first did tidy up my base and charge my battieres and made some powercells, then I went into my prawn and decided to search for wrecks. Keep in mind, I haven't played the game in over a year so I didn't know where I already was and where not. I found a promising looking area and started to look around only to be jumpscared by a boneshark. Out of reflex I punched it with the prawn fists. Over and over again until it suddenly sank to the ground. My husband then going: "Okay, you killed it, this one won't bother you again." Me: "I can KILL bone sharks?!" And promptly proceeded to kill a second one.

[ghcstao3]

siren ghost and sailor soap?

sort of inspired by the pirates of the caribbean sirens scene because it’s one of my favourite things of that series. also i got a little carried away

-

Over the many, many years of traversing the Seven Seas for his life’s work, Soap has become intimately familiar with the abundant myths and legends about the ocean and what lies beneath.

Of course, most of these hold no truth. Most of these are only mere stories to quell the anxieties of sailors, or to provide reasoning to strange occurrences seemingly otherwise unexplainable.

Sirens are, unfortunately, the exception.

Ruthless, ravenous creatures—they’re the worst fear of any sailor who knows the worth of his own life, and like most things that make mortal men afraid, they’ve been transformed into weapons.

Soap only knows that sirens are real because of what happens to many prisoners at sea—from the brig they’re moved to rowboats without paddles, abandoned and forced to sing until the sirens appear to lure them into the water, where flesh would be torn from bone with razor sharp teeth.

It’s a terrifying sight. The creatures are like sharks called to blood with the way they appear, like piranhas with the way they feast.

It’s horrifying. Fascinating. And Soap has vowed to never let himself end up on one of those boats.

But alas. Fate has other plans for him.

Soap had been reluctant to join the crew of Captain Philip Graves when presented with the opportunity, but the pay promised had been good, the work simple, and the destination somewhere he’s never been.

But what Soap hadn’t realized is that Graves likes to take prisoners. He likes to engage in unfair combat with other ships, and operates almost like a pirate, though not explicitly enough to be considered one himself.

Soap realizes his mistake far too late when he wanders down to the brig one night, otherwise unable to sleep. They’re two weeks into their voyage by now, and Soap knows there’s people in the jail—but he hadn’t known the state of them.

Most already without a secure amount of food outside their makeshift cell, they’re emaciated, wasting away in the hull of the vessel. They’re barely responsive when Soap knocks on the bars of the hold and pokes someone’s damp shoulder. Someone weakly latches onto Soap’s sleeve and begs for nothing in particular, and he feels awful for not having known about this sooner.

So he begins sneaking them food, brings them drink. Squirrels away what extra he can without anyone noticing he’s stopped finishing his meals.

Except someone must notice. Because, nearing the end of their journey, Graves is waking him in the dead of night and pulling him into the Captain’s quarters.

Soap swallows the pounding heartbeat in his throat as Graves slowly crosses the room to take a seat at his desk. He’s never liked the man, not one bit—but this just feels unnecessary. Taunting.

“A little bird tells me you’ve been keeping our prisoners fed,” Graves drawls. “Even though, from what I recall, prisoners are the enemy. I don’t suppose you really have been helping them out, have you, MacTavish?”

It’s a trap, Soap knows. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell Graves’s question isn’t really a question at all. Graves has his answer, and waits on Soap’s response if only to entertain him with the idea of escape.

Soap knows just as well that there’s hardly a point in trying to lie.

He lifts his chin as he looks straight into Graves’s eyes to tell him, “I have been. They’re still people.”

Graves chuckles lowly, rising from his seat. He rounds the desk, sitting back on its edge with his arms folded across his chest.

It might be intimidating, if Soap were anyone else. If he were a lesser man.

“Well, then—since you like ‘em so much,” Graves says, “surely you won’t mind joining them.”

Soap supplies Graves with no visible reaction. He doesn’t fight as Graves calls for his men to throw Soap in the brig, doesn’t put up any fuss as they try to cajole him.

If Soap has to be imprisoned for doing what’s right, then he at least won’t let Graves have the satisfaction of knowing Soap’s internal panic.

Because Soap knows what Graves plans to do with his prisoners. He’s known all along.

He predicts they’re maybe a day from port when they’re shoved off the ship and ordered into the decaying rowboat, left to drift away—not too far, however, as they’re still tethered to the ship. Because once all prisoners have been drowned, the boat will be reeled back and used again the next time Graves and his crew venture out to terrorize the waters.

No one has the energy to sing, to lure their cruel punishment to them. Soap’s half-convinced some of the others might just jump into the water on their own.

But they have to sing. Especially when a bullet ricochets off the boat and splinters the wood as encouragement.

Despite his time spent out at sea, Soap isn’t overly familiar with many shanties. He just follows along with whatever is mumbled in a weak tune, dreading as the volume builds with a second bullet, and the water below begins to churn. Glancing over the edge, Soap swears he sees the flash of a tail.

The first one appears shortly, singing along to the song like she’s entirely familiar with the melody. Soap feels the pull, though perhaps not as strongly as he imagined he would, if ever he ended up in these circumstances.

He wonders, briefly and distantly, if it has to do with the fact that he’s not really all that into women.

Soap snorts. Wouldn’t that be something.

But as more sirens appear, the pull grows stronger. Soap begins to feel swayed by the song, gone from muttered and off-kilter to something beautiful, hypnotic. The boat bobs with the weight of their new company and the prisoners that rush to the sides to get a better look at the sirens as if they aren’t the dangerous creatures they’re known to be.

Still, though, Soap isn’t completely compelled to join them in the water. He stays put in the centre and grounds his teeth—though he does gasp and reach out when the first prisoner is pulled under, and red soon blossoms across the surface of the water.

Then he appears.

The whole world seems to disappear for just a moment, when Soap looks into big, brown eyes.

The siren’s voice is deeper than the rest, soothing, and though Soap’s hindbrain screams at him that hidden behind the enchanting exterior, the porcelain skin and the straw-blond hair, there lives evil—he can’t help but lean in.

As Soap gets closer, the boat continuing to rock as more prisoners fall victim, the siren’s singing pauses just long enough for him to offer Soap a smile, saccharine, close-lipped. He reaches out an arm to Soap, calloused fingers caressing Soap’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

Soap can’t help but melt into the touch, its simultaneous warmth and coolness, subconsciously chasing it as it retracts, eyes fluttering shut with a short, pleased sigh.

But with the singing fading from the others, Soap’s eyes suddenly snap open. The siren still holds him, still leads Soap with that gentle touch and deceptively kind gaze, but Soap resists. He doesn’t know when he’d gotten to leaning halfway over the edge of the boat, but he scrambles backward to the opposite side, as far as he can get from this siren.

Soap comes to the startling realization that he’s the only one left.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” the siren croons. He props himself up on the edge of the boat, arms thick with corded muscle to show the real power of this creature. He leans forward, the boat tilting with his added weight. “I don’t bite.”

Soap glances nervously about the empty rowboat, gaze accidentally straying the bloodstained waters that surround them.

“I beg to differ,” Soap says weakly.

The siren laughs softly before slowly sinking back into the water. The boat sways. Soap shakes.

Everything goes silent for a suspiciously long moment before there’s a disturbance in the water and the siren appears at the side of the boat where Soap has taken refuge. He’s singing quietly again and Soap feels that pull, so he moves away, screws his eyes shut, and jams his fingers in his ears in an attempt to block it out.

It doesn’t work, not when the singing gets louder, and Soap’s attempt is rendered useless.

“Shut up,” Soap growls. “Please just shut. Up.”

The singing does cease, though only to make way for a deep, full laughter that is somehow tugging on Soap’s conscience with more force than any melody so far.

When Soap blinks his eyes open, the siren is perched on the edge of the boat, arms splayed one on top of the other, his head resting over them. He’s smiling, even once his laughter has died down, a glint of something in his dark eyes—maybe not quite sinister, but certainly mischievous.

“They’re not letting you back on that ship, you know,” the siren says, as if it isn’t obvious. “So you can either come with me—“

“And what? Be drowned? Eaten?” Soap snaps. “Thanks, but I’d rather rot right here.”

“Suit yourself,” the siren hums.

To Soap’s surprise, he actually disappears back into the water. And despite the waves—the ocean seems to have finally calmed.

Maybe Soap did have the tiny, illogical hope that he’d be brought back to the ship. Maybe Soap did have the tiny, logical hope that this siren would just put him out of his misery.

Either way, now he just sits in silence, listening to waves lap up against the hull as the rowboat rocks lazily with the current. Though the peace surely only stretches on for a few minutes, it feels like hours.

Stupidly, Soap goes to inspect the depths. To make certain he’s really been left alone.

Because that’s when he’s pulled in.

Soap barely has time to yell out before his mouth is filled with the overwhelming, stinging taste of salt, unfamiliar arms wrapping securely around his frame so he can’t wriggle free. His shouts are muffled by the water, and he feels the cold soak into his bones as he’s dragged deeper and deeper. The light fades, or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen.

The last thing Soap sees is the siren’s grin, all fangs and malice before everything goes black.

But then, after an unknown amount of time—Soap wakes up to the slow drip, drip, drip of water on a stone floor.

He’s in a cave.

He’s in a cave, and there’s a light source somewhere, and the siren is watching him.

Soap coughs, clearing water from his lungs. He chokes out, “Why… what did you—“

The siren shrugs. “I don’t eat people I like.”

Soap frowns, still coughing. “You…”

“Call me Ghost,” the siren says, then dives into the pool he’d been wading in at the entrance of the cave, and swims away—long, elegant tail flicking behind him as he leaves.

And while many, many thought swirl around Soap’s head as he gradually gathers his bearings about the situation, the clearest of them all is also the simplest; what the hell kind of a name is Ghost?

If only he could guess.

And if only he could know what’s meant to happen to him next.

[1427]

humiliation

Negan x Reader

Summary: Negan makes an example of you. 

Setting: Sanctuary (KingDick!Negan era)

Warnings: DUBIOUS consent (see how big those letters are? I mean it), public humiliation, degradation, forced nudity, unprotected piv, poorly written SMUT 

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: this is really skirting the line between dubcon and noncon so please be warned. Reader is into it but Negan really doesn’t give a shit. 

18+ mdni

masterlist

“What the hell?” Not a very polite greeting, but you’re confused. It’s not often you get a room call from a Savior. 

“Come on. Boss wants you.” He says curtly, his tone making it obvious that he’s not going to answer any of your questions. 

“Why?” You ask anyway, you're cautious to leave your room. “Negan? Wants me?” 

“Yup, and you better not make him wait.” A knot of anxiety twists itself in your stomach as you take two small footsteps into the hallway and close your door. What the hell could he want me for? 

Your mind flashes to a dozen different possibilities but they’re all shattered as the Savior guiding you takes a left instead of a right towards Negan's quarters. “Wait, wh-where are we going?”

You can hear him scoff from in front of you, “Where we go when Negan wants to make an example. The furnace.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” You immediatly start backtracking, trying to run. You have no idea what he could possibly want to punish you for, or whatever, but you didn’t want to find out. 

Your chaperone quickly grabs you before you start running, pushing you through the rest of the way. 

✨🦇

You don’t remember writing Negan a letter, but the handwriting sure looked like yours (after a few drinks). This letter? Currently being waved in front of your face by Negan himself. You try to read what you’d written, scour your brain for the memory of why you’d have done that. You were drunk. Obviously. But why?! 

Arms held back by a Savior, you take a second to look around the room. Surveying just how many people were here to watch him humiliate you. You try to cycle through possibilities, were you about to get the iron? Something worse? Your thinking stops as Negan clears his throat and begins to read. “Dear Negan,” he shoots you a look, smiling, “I’m drunk, so I’m sorry if this message is poorly received.” He lets out a slow droning laugh before continuing, his voice projected loud for everyone in the room to hear it, “but I think the whole ‘wives’ thing is stupid.” You wince at the words. Oh. Shit. 

You feel the arms holding you let you go only to be replaced by a bigger force. Negan, standing behind you. Overtop of you. Both arms around you like a cage, he moves his face flush against yours and brings the letter up to both of your lines of sight. His voice is still loud and booming even though he’s now directly next to your ear, “Maybe, if you gave me a chance - you wouldn’t have the need for five fillies in your stable.” 

Your face burns hot, you’ve never in your life felt so much shame. The fear rattling your bones, Negan doesn’t move for awhile, reveling in your shaking body beneath him. He noses his way through your hair to your ear where he whispers through gritted teeth, “and it’s signed ‘lol’.” 

Oh. Shit. 

He firmly grasps your cheeks between his gloved fingers, making your lips mash together uncomfortably as he puts you on display, “This shit here?!” He holds up the letter before throwing it to the side and into the furnace, “Un-fucking-acceptable!”

He finally lets you go, kicking one of your knees out and putting you on the ground. On your hands and knees for the whole Sanctuary as he circles around you like a fucking shark. The display of ego and importance was usually something you enjoyed watching. There was a reason you wrote the note after all. But, here, now? You couldn’t remember why you’d ever found it attractive. He was absolutely fucking terrifying. 

“Took me a while to figure out what to do with you.” The volume of his voice has significantly decreased but the force behind it hasn’t. You can’t even look up, but he continues without a response from you, “But I thought Hey! What if she’s right?!” You can hear the smile in his voice, feel his warm presence as he squats down on the ground next to you to gauge your reaction, but his words hardly register. 

“I said ‘What if you’re right’, doll?” He speaks in a softer voice directly to you, eyes still trained on the ground, but clearly he’s expecting a response. 

You don’t have one inside of you, way too afraid to speak. You’re hardly even breathing. His question was a trick. You know any response from you could only make this worse, so you just shake your head. 

He chuckles, cocking his head to the side, “What? You’re gonna be shy now?!” His voice gets louder with every word until it echos through the silent hall. He’s starting to get pissed off. Negan assumed the girl who wrote this letter? Maybe she’d have put up some kind of fight. But this was pathetic. 

In a blink he’s behind you again, pulling you to your feet by your hair. He continues pulling until you’re on your tippy-toes, back against his chest, neck craned over his shoulder. He pushes his hips forward as your body falls back against his, snaking an arm around your waist to pull you even tighter into him. Feeling his erection pulse, trapped between your ass and his body, you gasp. 

“You think you’re real fuckin special, don’chya?” He grinds himself against your lower back, speaking to you and the rest of the room. “What? Your pussy is such a prize that you think you can disrespect my wives?” He laughs, taking your cheeks in his hand again, holding your head still while he kisses you softly on the temple. 

“Oh, I’m gonna need you to prove it.” It’s a whisper, just for you, while he smiles into your hair. The fear, slowly being overtaken by something stronger, sits on your nerves like a minefield. Still there, but… Jesus Christ this was absolutely not the time to be turned on. That’s exactly what he wanted, right? To turn you on and humiliate you in front of everyone? 

Everytime everyone stands in a circle in this room? The lesson Negan is trying to teach is fear. And obviously he was trying to show everyone that they can’t just go and disrespect his wives and his lifestyle like you had. If he had any hint that you were liking this, he would only draw it out more. Embarrass you further. 

So when he asks you to prove it, you shake your head, like you know you’re supposed to. 

“It wasn’t a question.” He says, his mouth down at your ear again, his breath hot against your skin. You don’t have time to register it before he pulls back away from you and pulls your shorts and underwear down off your hips and to your knees, using his boot to push them the rest of the way. His hand in your hair is the only thing keeping you standing. 

You try to cover up with your hands, but Negan tuts from beside you, “Dwight, tell the lady what happens if she tries to skirt around this punishment?” 

“Said he’d kill ya.” Dwight says it like it’s a fact, and the fear shoots through you again. 

The shame burning up every part of you as you will your hands back to your sides. “Good girl,” he whispers against your head again. Your eyes are sewn shut, hands curling up into fists, your fingernails breaking the skin. Bare from the waist down in front of at least a hundred people. A lot of them you knew. And what’s worse? If he keeps talking to you in that fucking voice into your fucking ear they were all going to see what it did to you. 

You’re horrified, but it’s not even close to over. Negan kicks your feet apart, legs spread and the humiliation is overwhelming. He moves his hand from your hair to back around your waist, he leans over you, his other hand venturing it’s way down your body.

“What's so special about this pussy anyway?” You feel two gloved fingers part your folds and shoot inside you with no warning. Crying out at the feeling, your knees buckle but Negan keeps you in place against him. You don’t know what to do with your hands, as he pumps inside of you with his leather clad fingers, you feel the moan start to build in your throat. 

Don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t. You’re biting your lip, fingers flexing and releasing as you try to still your shaking body. But he’s in there so deep, just curling his fingers into that spot, over and over. Your hips angle up to meet his hand involuntarily and he pulls out of you, laughing. 

“You can pretend all you want, I can feel how much you like this,” another whisper, just for you. Fuck. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He shouts, shoving the same gloved fingers in your mouth. You try to fight back against him, everything in your body telling you that if he keeps going, you won’t want to fight anymore. And it’s horrifying and embarrassing and really, when your body tenses up in his grasp, you’re fighting against yourself. And how much you’re enjoying what he’s doing to you in front of everyone. 

He holds you still, grunting against the struggle. Dwight moves in like he’s going to help but Negan motions him back, “Nah, I got this, Dwighty-boy. See, this one here? She’s pretending she don’t like it. But she does.” His voice is sing-song. Confident and twisted and sardonic.

“Isn’t that right, doll?” He grinds himself against you much harder than he’d done before and your ensuing moan, the way your body rolls back into the feeling, your facial expression - all of it completely betraying you. You stop fighting, trying to put your hands up to your face to hide your shame, but he pulls them behind you and starts walking you forward. 

Your eyes shoot up, where was he taking you? The crowd parts, and you make eye contact with several people before you see it. A table. You’re 6 inches from barreling into it and with no way to brace yourself you instinctually pull against Negan’s hands restraining your own. He lets go of you completely, your arms shoot out to catch your fall. They do, just barely. The sting against your skin from the hard wood is felt through your arms, and your cheek that had just lightly kissed the table. 

You go to push yourself back up, but you're slammed back down into the table chest first. Negan's palm flat against your back as he holds you there. “Dwight, tell the girl again!” 

“He said he’d kill ya, I’d believe him if I were you. Don’t see why you’re even fighting,” he laughs, a few of the other saviors laugh too. 

He moves his hand from your back to your head, holding you in place against the table, as he leans down close again, “They’re laughing because you’re fuckin leaking for me, doll.” Your eyes glance up to see him taking his glove off with his teeth. His bare hand finding its way to your cunt in seconds, coating it in your juice before slapping your pussy twice. You can hear how wet you are, the whole fucking room can hear it. 

He sinks his fingers into you again, and the warmth from his bare skin has you reeling inwards. Your forehead goes down to the table, slamming your eyes shut once again. Your whole soaked pussy on display when he pulls his dripping fingers out of you. He hooks them into your cheek as he moves behind you. 

You can’t hear him unbuckling his belt, or unzipping his pants, over your own heartbeat. Your whole body is burning red as you feel his cock pushing up against your heat. He leans down over top of you, one hand pulling your head back by your hair, the other holding himself at the base and lining himself up to your entrance; “We’re gonna give ‘em a real good show. Then…,” he slams into you, all the way to the hilt causing you to cry out, “you’re gonna beg me to be my wife.” 

His pace is completely unrelenting. Sliding into you with ease, your pussy seemingly ready and enjoying such an assault. It had been so long since you’d had someone pound into you with such passion. That’s what you liked about Negan in the first place. The passion, the power, the control. The complete domination over those around him. You’d never met someone who wore narcissism so fuckin’ well. 

His fingers slowly move from your hair and your back to your hips. Pushing you down into hard edge of the table as he watches his cock disappear into you over and over again. Maybe you do have a magic pussy, or maybe it’s the thrill of the situation, but damn is he having a great time fucking you senseless in front of all of these horrified people. Well, some of them were impressed, and even more of them were secretly enjoying the show. It was obvious to anyone watching that you weren’t really unwilling; just completely embarrassed to be doing it so publically. 

You stopped trying not to moan, your breathe coming out in strangled gasps. He pulls you up against his body and fucks up and into you more slowly, holding your face to the crowd. “Look,” he whispers in your ear, “Look at how many people are watching me fuck you stupid.”

Your body shudders at his words, your hips shaking in his grasp. He laughs, and kisses your shoulder sweetly, “Are you going to cum all over my cock in front of all these people, sweetheart? How embarrassing.” 

You just nod, it’s coming too fast for you to stop it, his words having spurred you even further. “Hold on,” he commands, letting your body fall back to the table. You do as your told and hold on to the edge. 

You didn’t think Negan could possibly be more unrelenting on your walls but you were wrong. He bends his legs and fucks into you at an angle you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. Your knuckles turn white, and the sound coming from you echos in the spacious room. Something between groan and a scream builds, Negan coaxes from behind you, “That’s it, baby girl, cum all over my cock. Show them how good I take care of my girls.” 

If you weren’t right there his words might have turned you off, but it’s too late. It rips through you with a guttural scream. Every muscle so tense you’re  shaking, Negan fucks you through it at first before burying himself so deep his cock head is kissing your cervix. You try to move away but he keeps you there, wanting to feel every second of your orgasm around his throbbing member. 

Your drift back to reality isn’t pleasant. You thought shame like this was reserved for Catholics, and yet here you are. He pulls out of you and puts himself away while you sink to the cold concrete floor in front of the table. He doesn’t even finish. That motherfucker. 

He was right, though, wasn’t he? Because you wanted more. And if being his wife was the only way? Like he’s reading your mind he bends down, toothy smile cracked on his face like always, “You wanna beg me now, or later?” 

A/n: I loved writing this and I’ll see myself out. (ANONS REQUEST MORE THINGS I MORALLY SHOULDNT WRITE ABOUT)

[swee7dream]

hi very late but may I request a cute cg!jaehyun taking care of a VERY fussy little!reader hehehehehhehehehehheheh cant wait to see what u write :)) (saying this bc I was very late but I saw you saying like a week or 2 after u saying u wanted to write jaehyun fics..)

no ! ( but okay ) caregiver ! jeong yoonoh x age regressor ! reader

genres age regression content , fluff warnings reader has hair long enough to put behind the ears dni nsfw / kink author's note FAV MOOT . i will go to war for you . as someone who is extremely fussy when small , you and i are cut from the same cloth . hope u like it ! tag list restarting ! lmk if you would like to be added .

“No, no, no…”

“Come on, Honey.”

“Not finish yet.” You ignore Jaehyun’s gentle hand pushing the hair behind your ear, scribbling your crayon furiously to the paper on the floor like a painter struck with genius inspiration.

“Can we finish this later? Tomorrow, maybe?”

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut. You’ve entered your ‘no’ phase all of a sudden and it has been carving at his patience. It’s not that he never wants you to say no, but when it comes to eating your lunch or cleaning up your toys or changing out of your outside clothes for comfy, clean inside clothes, he can’t deny it’s frustrating. He just wants the best for his baby, why can’t you see that?

“Baby.” He looks down at the phone in your other hand, currently shining a terrifying (in Jaehyun’s opinion) four-finned shark-dinosaur-thing. Papers surround your curled-up ball self on the floor, each one detailing a different kind of dinosaur. “The dinos need to sleep too, baby. We need to start getting ready now so you don’t forget to brush your teeth ‘cause you’re just so sleepy.”

“Nuh-uh. Dinos can’t sleep. They’re dead.”

His shoulders slump in his crisscrossed sitting position in front of you. It’s difficult to keep up with the canonical and non-canonical existences of your baby world.

“Okay… maybe. But when they were alive, they had to sleep.”

“…maybe.” You throw him a bone! Finally, it only took an hour.

“Yeah?” He places a hand over the screen. “There are those pretty eyes. Hi Honey.”

“Hi, Hyunnie.” You frown. “Hyunnie let go.”

“The phone told me he’s very tired and would like to go to bed now. Sorry, baby.”

“Not true, phones don’t talk.”

“Mine does.” He gives you a look that says ‘so embarrassing for you…’

You squint at him, unamused.

“Hyunnie let go.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. My hand fell asleep. Right here.” He shines his dimples at you innocently.

“Let go!” Your blue crayon is left forgotten to roll under the couch as you pull and pull on Jaehyun’s arm.

“No!” He sings, finally taking matters into his own hands, quite literally, by pulling you onto his lap. “Bed time. Bed time for my baby.”

He rocks you side to side, cheek resting on the top of your head as he confines you in between his arms.

“No!” You squirm around but to no avail. “No bedtime. No tired!”

“Mmm, yes!” You feel his lips press to your head. “Bedtime, bedtime. Time for jammies and teeth brushing and stories. Doesn’t that sound fun, baby?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No-o-o-o-o-o!” Your voice shakes as Jaehyun’s soft rocking turns more into a shake one would give only to a potato sack.

“Ye-e-e-e-e-es!” He smiles down at you as he finishes his best imitation of your little tantrum.

“No.” You frown up at him, but his eyes catch the quirks at the end of your lips that you fail to push down.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!” He attacks your cheek with a kiss, littering your face with them as he continues. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“But why?” You give in, allowing yourself to go limp in Jaehyun’s hold.

“Because,” He mocks your whiny tone. “It’s late. It’s late and you get really mean when you don’t sleep enough.”

“That’s not true!”

“Hey.” He pinches your nose. “Why are you fighting me so much lately? It absolutely is true and you know it. Do you want Hyunnie to be all sad and weepy tomorrow? I’ll cry. You know I will. Wanna see? W-”

“No!” You giggle, putting both your hands up to cover his face. “Don’t wanna see Hyunnie sad. But am just no tired, Hyunnie.”

Another kiss to your palms lets Jaehyun see your face again.

“But I am. Can’t you just get ready for bed with me? It’s so scary to be alone.” He pulls you into his chest, squeezing but never too tight. “So scary! I need my Honey to help me!”

“Not scary, Hyunnie.” You giggle. “But okay. Honey help!”

“Really?” He pulls you away to meet your eyes and bumps your foreheads together. “Really really? For reals? How many reals are you talking?”

“All the reals!” You beam.

“Oh, thank you, baby. You sure are doing Hyunnie a solid.”

—

You didn’t realize how cold you were until you put your pajamas on, soft and warm, still smelling of laundry detergent. It’s like wearing a blanket and you rub the fabric against your arms to warm yourself up some more.

Your socks slide against the wooden floor as you hear Jaehyun take his turn to brush his teeth in the bathroom. You left a total mess! Your artwork is all over the floor, what if you lost one?

Not feeling like wanting to clean up at the moment, you put your crayon box on the coffee table to put it in its proper place tomorrow.

Wait.

You’re missing one!

Where did it go?

You hum to yourself as you gather all your drawings in a neat pile, making a mental note to yourself to date them all in the morning. You search under the table and behind pillows and blankets. Where is your green crayon?

“Ah-hah!” Jaehyun spots you back in the living room, face to the floor.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“Found my crayon, Hyunnie. Thought I lost it.” You lift yourself up, pulling your hand out from under the couch to show it to Jaehyun proudly.

“I’m glad you didn’t lose it, Honey.” He smiles. “But you didn’t have to get on the floor for that. You’re gonna get your jammies dirty.”

“’s okay! Needed my crayon.” You kneel over to slide the crayon back amongst its brethren in the paper box.

“Don’t you have a lot of other ones?” He helps you up by the hand.

“Not the same. Different shade o’ green.”

“Mmm, makes sense.” Jaehyun notices the pile of paper on your arm. “You’re taking your drawings to bed?”

“Yeah. Not tired so Honey’s gonna do storytime today.”

“Oh, really? Thank you, baby. You’re gonna teach me about dinosaurs?”

“Yeah.” You flop onto the bed. “Dinosaurs are super cool.”

“But aren’t they scary?” Jaehyun flicks off the light in the middle of the ceiling, warm soft light from your nightstands keeping the room from complete darkness.

“No. ‘cause they’re dead,” You explain simply.

“..right. I forgot that for a second.” He lifts the covers and slides inside the bed, shivering at the still-cold sheets. “Your drawings are just so good, baby, I thought they were pictures.”

“I get that a lot,” You say, rubbing your head against his arm. “You ready?”

“Ready Freddy.”

“Who’s Freddy?”

“I don’t know.” Jaehyun pauses to think. “Someone who’s ready, I guess. Go on, baby. Show me your dinos.”

“Okay!” You go through your pile of drawings and end up deciding on your most recent creation. “This one’s not finished, but it’s called a Liopleurodon. It existed in the Jurassic period. It was an apex predator—that means that no one could fight it and win! It just went chomp chomp and everybody died.”

“Oh, I see. It’s kind of like you, in a way.”

“What?!”

author's note ( pt 2 ) sorry for taking so long ! i have no excuse , just trying to deny the reality of valentine boy being gone . haven't been keeping up w nct lately bc of irl stuff + the boycott so if anyone has a google drive or anything like that for sm artists , pls lmk ! and as always , comments and constructive criticism are accepted and encouraged . just be nice or i will be finding your loved ones ' contact information and telling them you're CYBER BULLYING . hope everyone is having a good day and if not i hope it gets better !!

[and-the-flame-burns]

i crave doe sugar and I cannot wait any longer or else Imm going to fucking implode like a pufferfish on steroids

so have some headcannons

every time I hear “midwest gothic” as in reference to the cryptid rule writing of the midwest, I always think of a goth Indiana and/or Illinois. I also headcannon theme as siblings for some reason. So, goth siblings

New York always gives “oversized puffy coat with a scarf that covers his mouth” with that pose where his torso is back and his hands are in his pocket. He feels…. So dramatic. Like he either gives “60 year old man” or “dramatic teenager with spiked makeup” and it’s one or the other.

California gives “lanky bitch” and he’s always a lanky motherfucker with a sleeper build and angel bites. He has top surgery and never wears shirts because he’s “getting his moneys worth” but in reality he just thinks he looks really aesthetically attractive. Btw If you ever become friends with this man he’s going to be the craziest bitch on the block with the exception of Florida and Nevada

Florida has floor length hair or a complete buzzcut that has too many colors in it.

Tank. Tops. Everyday. All day. Florida would rather DIE than wear a regular shirt. He will PERISH before wearing a regular t-shirt. He also bites. In what world does he not bite to some extent

Alaska, I adore him, but he gives shapeshifter abilities and he never appears fully human. If he ever appears somewhat human that man looks bone skinny and like that tall cryptid you’d encounter on a late night walk. I refuse to believe Alaska is anything but a cryptid who’s limbs tint to vanta black. Nobody knows anything about him besides a select 3 and those three are his Auntie, Hawai’i, and Maine

Alaska is pure Cryptid Behavior to me and sometimes he’ll do a little glowy glow in the middle of the night to give some states an unintentional spook. Little guy (he’s on average over 8 ft) is just saying hello

to me, Hawai’i gives “some type of water entity being” and I like the idea of her having a shark tail and generally being a water entity. I think marine animals are cool! Hawai’i is a marine biologist, marine things! She can hang out with the marine things for as long as she wants because she’s partially a some marine animals. We got the gills and lungs so she can breath on both land and in the water and you got the fins and the tail for easy water movements and then the legs for easy land movement

marine lady! You cannot grab this idea from my cold dead hands

ok so Texas now because I’m having a partial fixation on him. He gives “Cowboy Reptile” for some reason. He reminds me of Rango so he gets to have a reptile tail and scales all along his back.

the thought of him having a bit of the “lizard who shoots blood out of it’s eyes” in him is both funny and terrifying. Imagine a lizard man shooting blood out of his eyes. Also that is a very real lizard and it’s called the Horned Lizard

poncho wearing lizard man that rides a horse around and kinda looks like the Local Legend is basically my concept for him

last one, I think

i love the whole “New Jersey being a devil” thing. I adore the concept and him have the wings. Ok so bat wings are basically just hands. All those long little bones are fingers in the wing.

also if he needs to fly, he’d need stability, so a tail and webbing would be required. Also them wings need to be GIGANTIC- if I have the math right, it’s the person’s height x 1.5 = the span of one wing. I headcannon New Jersey to be about 5’0 so one wing would be about 7.5 ft for a total wingspan of 15 feet :D

hahahahah logic stuff and the maths

anyways I got my sugars now to ✨bye✨

[thesillygoofyjester]

Angel dust was not having a good day.  

He was locked in his dressing room, with a furious Valentino,  

“-DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOUVE COST ME? YOU’RE LUCKY I DONT KILL YOU FOR THIS!” 

The reason for Valentinos rage? Angel had fucked up and pissed off an important business partner Val had been working with, the slimy shark demon had stormed out and lost Val's deal 

Val grabbed his hair roughly and pulled his face up to look at him.  

“you’re going to pay for this one Angel dust”  

His voice was low, with sharp rage hidden right in front of his eyes, his glowing red-hot eyes and sharp teeth. 

-SMACK-! 

Valentino hit him, hard, he fell to the ground, he tried to hold himself up with his elbows, but his arms shook, and his cheek stung. He felt a single hot tear drop into his fur, burning him like a brand, Valentino loomed over him, whispering darkly 

“Once I'm done with you, you're going to go out there, and earn back every dollar you lost me, I don't care how many greasy truckers you have to fuck, or how long it takes, do you understand-” 

“VAL!” 

Valentinos eyes narrowed as his head shot to the doorway, Angel slowly looked over- Vox. 

The media demon himself was standing in the doorway of his dressing room, posture tense, arms crossed, eyes narrow, and cold 

“I'm a little busy vox” Val ground out, a growl deep in his throat 

“What the FUCK Val! I've been looking for you everywhere!” Vox stalked into his room, glaring at Val, blind to angel dust on the floor, staring at two of the most powerful overlords in hell, having an argument in his room. 

he sucked in a tight breath, making himself as small as possible and backing away, crawling backwards on the floor, until Valentino swiftly moved his boot, digging the heel into his hand, subtle, but a clear message “don't move unless I tell you to” 

“DID YOU SPEND THIS?” vox shoved a receipt in Vals face, electricity buzzing between his antenna “yeah, so? I splurged a bit, what's the problem?” Val shrugged it off 

Vox's hackles raised, and his voice glitched “G-G-GODAMNIT VAL WEVE BEEN OVER THIS, you can't spend this kind of money, from our bank account, without telling ME-” 

-SMACK-! 

Angels un-swollen eye widened, as he stared at Vals raised hand, and vox’s cracked screen 

Val had just hit vox. It was almost laughable, if it hadn't been so terrifying, vox, the tv demon, the media overlord, and even more terrifying, he hadn't fought back, he had just taken it? 

Vox looked up at Val through fingers covering his cracked screen “Val-” 

-SMACK-! 

-SMACK-! 

“VAL!” vox had caught Vals wrist, the rings in his eye pulsing. Val glared at him, “You ungrateful-!”  

“Oh, so I'm the ungrateful one?”  

Vals eyes widened, as Vox's screen cracked itself into a grin “do you need a reminder of why you’re here?” vox grabbed vials face with his other hand, squeezing until his claws pierced skin as Valentino tried to pull away 

“have you forgotten that I made you? You'd be N-N-NOTHING without me!” 

“I'm sorry voxxy, i-i-” vox slammed Valentino into the floor, pinkish blood pooling around him 

“don't call me t-that, I have put up with your SHIT, for too long” vox planted his boot on Vals chest, pressing on it 

“I have let you hit me, c-c-rack my screen, scream at m-me, waste my money on your ch-cheap w-w-whores, and I have been loyal to you the whole GOD-D-DAMNED TIME” 

Angel looked down and saw the blood getting on his hands and in his fur, he crawled back quickly and silently, before freezing up as Vals eyes shot to him 

Vox put even more pressure on Vals chest with his boot, before bending down to grab Vals face, and forcing him to look into vox’s hypnotic eye, “I l-loved you once Val, you ruined me, I'm s-s-sorry for ever being foolish enough to fall for y-you”  

Val wheezed, voice weak, “f-fuck you... vox” 

Vox pushed his heel through Vals chest, the sound of bones crunching under his boot echoing through the room, he silently lifted his foot, and angel caught a glimpse of the iconic silver-white glow that came from angelic steel. Vox had planned this. 

Vox stepped away from the corpse, looking around the room, angel froze as vox’s eyes caught his 

“... you weren't supposed to be here” is all vox said, looking mildly surprised. 

Angel tried to let out a laugh, but it just came out as a dry sob “it is my dressing room after all” 

Vox stepped toward him, and angel shrunk back, vox paused, before offering his hand, angel delicately took it, hand trembling. Vox grabbed it, and pulled angel up, angel swayed on his feet, vision blurring and dancing in front of him. 

Vox looked down at angels blood-matted fur, and his own blood stained shoes, “let's get you cleaned up, hmm?” Angel nodded, dizzy, and relaxed by Vox’s suddenly calming voice 

Vox lifted up the much slimmer demon into his arms and carried him bridal style down the hall, he was lucky it was night, and most of his employees had already gone home. When he finally got to the penthouse, he felt angel stiffen in his arms, but instead of heading to the bedroom, like angel expected him to, he headed straight for the bathroom.  

Upon entering he gently placed angel on the floor, angel swayed for a moment before regaining his balance and turned to face the tv-faced demon 

Vox had already turned away from him “clean yourself up, and feel free to use whatever's in the shower, I'll get you something...” he eyed the messy, revealing, outfit that angel was wearing “...decent, to wear” And with that, he shut the door behind him, leaving angel alone with his thoughts 

The water was still hot, one of the perks of being rich, angel supposed, it ran down his body, soaking his fur as the pink tinged blood ran down into the drain. Valentinos blood  

He supposed he must've still been in shock, because he was crying, crying because Val was dead. Isn't this what he had wanted? Hadn't he been praying for Vals death? Shouldn't he be over joyed right now? So why did his heart ache? 

Vox... why had he killed Val? Everyone knew that their relationship was the most brutal on-again off-again in all of hell, but had it really gotten enough to the point that vox felt the need to kill him? Remember? A small voice in the back of his head whispered Val HIT vox. He broke his screen, he was being abused the voice whispered just like you 

Except vox wasn't like him, because vox had the power and resources to get out, he had just taken it, done whatever Val wanted him to, because Val owned his soul – his soul. Was he still under contract? Was he going to lose his job? Oh god, how was he going to get his fix? He needed his job! His breath started speeding up, his chest rising and falling as he gasped, his eyes flitting wildly around the room 

What if vox killed him for seeing Vals death, what if he-! 

“ANGEL DUST!” he flinched, quickly responding “y-yeah?” he heard vox sigh outside the door “thank Satan... I was starting to think you had drowned yourself!” vox let out an uncomfortable chuckle, before he heard a faint shuffling, as though someone was placing something right outside 

“there's clothes outside for when you're done, I-... take as long as you need” angel waited until he heard the tell-tale sign of someone walking away before turning of the shower and stepping out. Opening the door just a crack to make sure no one was outside, he took the neatly folded towel and clothes and held them close to his chest. 

Towel first, he quickly rubbed his fur dry with what may have been the softest towel he had ever touched. Next, the clothes, they were fairly simple, a pair of navy sweatpants, and a neon teal t-shirt emblazoned with the bright red vox-tec logo. 

After double and triple checking to make sure he looked good, he stepped out of the bathroom into the dimly lit apartment, “Mista Vox!? Ya here?!” a door shrouded in shadows opened, and there stood vox, in a clean version of the suit he had been wearing before, no longer stained with blood, the other new thing about him, was his screen, it was no longer shattered, instead, all that remained was a small crack in the corner. 

“you’re out, good.” vox walked towards him, his movements, calm and practiced, as if he hadn't just murdered his boyfriend. Angel just nervously fidgeted with his hands, watching vox until he arrived at the door, and opened it. “Well? You coming?” vox asked, a slight teasing lilt in his voice. Angel felt his shoulders relax marginally, he didn't want thanks for saving angel. Angel gave a pained smile  

“Y-yeah...” 

As they walked into the elevator, angel stood awkwardly next to vox, who seemed wholly uninterested in the entire ordeal, this vox was nothing like the friendly charismatic one you saw on tv, or the bitter, vengeful, short tempered one he saw in the dressing room, this one seemed cold, and tense, and... anxious? 

“Why’d you do it?” the words left his lips before he could stop them, vox turned to him, raising one eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

“Valentino? You kill-” vox’s hand shot over his mouth “Valentino, hasn’t been seen, in 2 hours, hardly a reason to say he’s dead” his face went cold and stoic “unless you want to be the one who killed him” 

Angel dust wasn’t stupid enough to not get the barely concealed threat “stop talking unless you want to be framed” he looked down at his feet, “Sorry Mista vox” 

Vox looked down as well, “but I suppose if someone was to kill him, it might’ve been because they realized he was growing too powerful, perhaps they thought him a threat to their power... or perhaps they were just done with taking his shit.” 

Angels eyes widened, he hadn’t expected vox to actually tell him anything, he opened his mouth to say something, but in that moment, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened in front of them, he sighed as vox strode out in front of him, he quickly followed as vox stalked through the halls of the studio. 

After a solid 10 minutes of walking, they arrived at a small side door, vox opened it and held it for angel dust, he stepped through the door, to see a sleek navy limousine, a small, heterochronic, aquatic demon quickly opened the door for him and vox, before getting in the driver's seat. Vox looked at him, raising an eye brow 

-oh 

“The hazbin hotel please?” 

The demon looked at vox, who nodded, the limo pulled out, and peeled off down the street 

Angel took this as an opportunity to see the limo, it was simple, a black interior, with cyan led stripes down the sides, none of the fluff or haze that Valentinos limo had. At least the seats were comfortable. Angel felt his eyelids droop, surely vox wouldn't mind if he rested his eyes for a minute, right? Right... 

Vox was incredibly tired. Today had been one of the most exhausting days of his life, between having 4 separate interview's, today was also the day he had decided to act out his plan, and murder Val. But one variable he hadn’t accounted for was Angel dust being there. The lanky spider knew what he had done, and he shouldn’t be risking him even being alive. 

But when he looked in the demons terrified eyes, his swollen cheek, and his fur stained with blood... he saw himself 

Which of course was how he ended up with the spider in question asleep on him He turned to look at angel dust, sleeping so... well certainly not peacefully. He was... shivering? Trembling? Both? He heard the demons breath quicken as he thrashed. “n-no please I'm sorry, I won't do it again please stop, Valentino!”  

Vox sucked in a breath at the vulnerable display, the logical side of his brain said it wasn’t his problem, but looking at this soul, tormented by the same demons he was, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pity. 

 Sighing, and knowing he was probably going to regret this, he shrugged off his suit jacket and laid it over him, his fingers lingering on angels back, he gently pressed his hand flush to the demons back, softly rubbing it until he felt the spider under him begin to relax, he ceased his circular movements, but let his hand rest on angels back, he sighed looking out the window at the hotel on the tall hill in front of them 

Charlie was freaking out, angel dust had been out for 4 hours past curfew, and hadn’t texted them once, everyone in the hotel (sans Alastor) had tried calling and texting him, to no avail 

“w-what if has dead! What if he got kidnapped! What if!” “Babe.” Charlie turned to her girlfriend, Vaggie, who was gently holding her by the shoulders “angels an adult, he can handle himself” Vaggie smiled comfortingly, but it did little to sooth Charlies nerves  

“But what if he's hurt!?” Charlie asked, desperation tinging her voice 

“Then that's on him kid” husker tiredly interjected “he aint your responsibility” 

“But-! wait what's that?” Charlie pulled herself away from Vaggie and went to go look out the window, a sleek navy limo was pulling up the driveway, far too nice for this side of hell 

Charlie stepped outside, Vaggie and husk behind her, Alastor was already outside, his trademark grin was tight, and his eyes were narrow  

“al... What's going on?” Alastor's grin sharpened “it appears our arachnid friend has caught the attention of another overlord!” 

At that moment, the car door opened and Vox, leader of the Vee’s, media overlord and tv demon, Stepped out. But he wasn’t the only one, because in his arms, unconscious, was angel dust. 

Vaggie lunged forward, spear pointed straight for vox’s throat, directly under his tv “what are you doing here” she growled 

He lifted his head, looking rather uninterested in her threat “well I was trying to return this to you” he said, motioning to angel dust, “but since you clearly don't want him ill just...” he stepped away, a sly grin on his face 

“you’d be smart to hand angel dust over” Alastor ground out, his teeth grinding together, his smile tense and forced.  

Vox's smile relaxed just a fraction, and he extended angel dust out to Alastor, who tried to pick up the delicate spider demon, but Angel simply curled into vox, holding him tightly, and whispered a single word to him

“stay”

vox whispered back “I can’t” and angels whisper was so quiet he almost missed it “please” 

So vox did 

[the-golden-comet]

✨OC Deep Dive Tag 👑✨

Original Tag for Peter here, requested by @theprissythumbelina to do one for Prince Benjamin, so here it is. Thank you @saturnine-saturneight and @ominous-feychild for also tagging me! 🏴‍☠️✨

Phobias: Hemophobia (has medical condition: vasovagal syncope—faint trigger to blood)

Other fears: Whales, Sharks, gigantic sea creatures/sea monsters

Pet peeves: Overconfidence, arrogance

3 items you can find in his bedroom: Same as Peter’s

First thing he notices in a person: How they carry themselves (he’s a royal brat)

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is his pain tolerance? With 10 as the highest, Like a 6-ish. It’s only higher on account of him being a ginger (they have higher pain tolerance—no seriously. Watch the Mythbusters episode on it)

Does he go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Flight mode first, then faint.

Does he come from a big family/are they a family person? Benjamin is an only child, born to Duke Matthias, and hates his father. Before the Golden Phoenix Gang, he wasn’t very family oriented.

What animal represents him best? A canary

What is a smell that he dislikes? Fish fry

Has he broken any bones? Yes.

How would a stranger likely describe him? Oh, is that Prince Benjamin? Such a gorgeous lad. Beautiful green eyes, such poise. He must be so fortunate to be born into lots of wealth.

Is he a night owl or a morning bird? Morning bird (and bird in general)

What is a flavor he hates and a flavor he loves? Hates the taste of blood, loves the taste of bananas.

Does he have any hobbies? Dancing, mainly. Sometimes writing.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How does he react to surprises? Either faints from the surprise, is genuinely happy, or bristles and gets pissed. Depends on his mood that day.

Does he like to wear jewelry? No, and certainly not any cursed artifacts

Does he have neat or messy handwriting? Very very neat. Immaculate, even.

What are the two emotions he feels the most? Pissed off, and terrified

Does he have a favorite fabric? Royal purple silk

What kind of accent does he have? British (voice headcanon below. Hey @justabigoldnerd I heard you liked Hetalia :) )

Leaving this one +open again! I’m super happy to have gotten a request for Benjamin! Thank you again!! 💛✨

✨👇Tag list for writing tidbits below. DM me if you’d like on the writing list👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@autism-purgatory , @jev-urisk , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @wyked-ao3 , @glasshouses-and-stones , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @fortunatetragedy , @deanwax , @dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes , @thatuselesshuman , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @katenewmanwrites , @zackprincebooks , @fantasy-things-and-such , @finickyfelix , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @froggy-pposto , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @theaistired , @willtheweaver , @rivenantiqnerd @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @illarian-rambling , @mysticstarlightduck

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey do you guys remember how I said that I was going to use patreon to write up content that would be WILDLY too long for tumblr? yeah. this is uuuuuh a little less than 6000 words about a bad Animal Planet series from 2008 that no one watched but me and my sister.

and here's part of the introduction under the cut for freebies, in case you want a little sample:

If you weren’t a painfully introverted animal fact kid in the early 2000s it’s almost impossible to explain the degree of sway that Animal Planet and its shows held over me as a child. Meerkat Manor, Animal Cops, The Most Extreme, The Little Zoo That Could, Prehistoric Planet, River Monsters, all of Steve Irwin’s work, and truly any and all non-serialized programming about any animal imaginable. I ate it all up, even the terribly boring half-hour programs like Backyard Habitat and Petfinder that they only played in the weird wee hours of the morning. 

Crucially, this programming is mostly of a nonfiction bent. Prehistoric Planet uses a framing device involving the use of time travel to bring extinct animals into the present to live in a zoo, but ultimately they’re trying to teach you some facts about some beasts, and while Meerkat Manor was definitely anthropomorphizing and editorializing the drama those meerkats experienced, it was at least rooted in the very real Kalahari Meerkat Project, which has been intensively documenting the behavior of meerkat mobs for many meerkat generations.

But then we get into the oddballs. In 2004 Animal Planet aired Dragons: A Fantasy Made Real, a British “docufiction” produced for Channel Four that sought to contextualize the nearly-global mythology of dragons in real history and biology, complete with CGI recreations of dragons in their “natural habitats.” That’s all fine and good; there’s nothing wrong with using a fake thing to teach people about real animals’ evolution and anatomy. The Loch Ness Monster episode of River Monsters is excellent for this, as you can tell that host Jeremy Wade (angler, freshwater detective, and criminally fuckable old man) doesn’t expect to find a monster literally at all and is just taking the opportunity to introduce his audience to animals they might not otherwise know about, including the noble Greenland shark. He pulls the same trick again in a later episode where he’s sent to discover the “truth” behind sea serpents and winds up diving in search of the elusive oarfish.

Dragons is… not doing that. Instead it offers up a framing device following a completely fictional paleontologists who “suggests the theory that a carbonized Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton on display was killed by a prehistoric dragon” (thanks, Wikipedia) and then has to go on a quest to save his career by proving that dragons totally existed and he’s not crazy. And he’s not! The piece ends with him discovering straight up for-real dragon bones in the Carpathian Mountains. If you were, say, an impressionably soft-brained 8 year old watching this, well holy shit. Congrats! It turns out dragons are real and nobody knows but you. 

Why did Animal Planet air this? God only knows, but it wouldn’t be the last time they dabbled in this shit. 2012 saw another piece by the same creator, Charlie Foley, called Mermaids: The Body Found which posited that various governments are holding merpeople captive and also relied on the infamously eugenicist aquatic ape theory to justify how merpeople could exist. The CGI on that one creeped me the fuck out, although I was at least old enough by then to recognize it wasn’t real.

Between those two docufictional farces, Animal Planet got a little freaky and rolled out some fake factual content of their own: three season of the TV show Lost Tapes (2008-2010, RIP), which purportedly showed “found footage” from incidents of humans having terrifying encounters with cryptids and fighting to escape with their lives. Interspersed with the fully fictional stories were segments of experts talking about folkloric history and speculating as to how creatures like Sasquatch and sea serpents could be real, which was an admirable effort to make it educational but often fell pretty short. There’s a werewolf episode where their expert weakly offers up that there are tons of transformations in nature, like caterpillars turning into butterflies. Notably that has absolutely nothing in common with a human turning rapidly into a wolfbeast and then shifting back, but they tried! They stopped trying as hard by season three, by which point they were throwing any and every beastie they could think of at the wall: there are episodes dedicated to zombies, a poltergeist, two different types of vampires, and the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. 

Also straining belief was the dedication that some POV characters had to keeping their cameras rolling. I don’t blame the writers for that; it’s hard coming up with a fresh gimmick for “found footage” in every episode. Some of them, like characters wearing body cameras, are pretty smart; others, like a teenage girl continuing to film on her phone while being hunted by the Jersey devil, are not. They’re very much running on horror movie rules; the characters are as dumb as they need to be to make the plot go. To the show’s credit the dumdums are frequently punished, and it’s not uncommon for every single named character to end up dead at the hands (or claws, fangs, whatever) of the monster of the week. 

Needless to say, as a 12 year old I thought this was extremely edgy and cool. I was old enough to recognize that the so-called found footage was fake and that the acting was mostly very bad, but I liked cryptids and some of the show’s better episodes could still creep me right out. I think geeky 12 year olds who like to get a little freaked out on purpose are probably the ideal target demographic for this show, followed by nostalgic 20-somethings who have seen every episode several times.

(Hi, editor’s note: having completed this list it turns out there are WAY more episodes than I thought and I fully Do Not Recall some of them, so egg on my face.)

[insane4fandoms]

As thanks for our little chat earlier, here are some random headcanons on my EgoPats! Talking with friends always seems to get my creative juices flowing.

Caliban doesn’t have quite as big of a sweet tooth as irl Matt does, but he still appreciates some sugary stuff along with savory stuff (i.e. his and Murdock’s hit-targets). His favorite treats (aside from Diet Coke, because duh. He’s an Egopat, lol) are typically gummy alligators or gummy sharks. Yes, he always makes sure to start by biting the gummy’s head off, because that’s just how you eat gummies, okay? (This was actually inspired by that Gummy Food vs. Real Food Challenge on GTLive; it’s one of my favorite episodes, so many hilarious moments.) 

Penn is pretty interested in Vulture Culture. Yeah, his fossil-hunting already plays a huge part in that, but he’s just sort of fascinated by the skulls/bones of modern animals as well as those of prehistoric creatures. (Bonus points if the bones happen to have been painted for whatever reason.) Granted, they’d have to be ethically sourced for him to collect them, because he’s nice and conscious like that. 

Some of LeviathanPat’s traits/abilities are more instinctual than “at-will.” The biggest example of this: an extra eye that can sprout on his forehead, larger and darker than his primaries. While he can choose to grow and retract extra eyes (just like he can with extra mouths, limbs, etc.), this particular forehead eye only opens up when his emotions are running high, or when he’s in a serious situation. I guess you could say that the forehead eye is, in itself, a type of Sixth Sense. (Though, as a cosmic abomination, L.P. definitely has way more than six senses, lol. Also, this was inspired by one of the ways you’ve drawn him in the past, so…thanks!)

Penn loves gemstones and minerals just as much as fossils. Sure, his career is paleontology, but he just really likes shiny/colorful things on the side. He’ll occasionally keep pieces of fossil for his personal collection, but only on occasion, since, y’know, museums need fossils for their exhibits. So, gemstones are a little easy for that kinda stuff. (And, with that first headcanon in mind: have you ever seen that art trend where crystals are attached to or even grown on cleaned animal skulls? If not, they’re all over Etsy, so, you’re welcome, lol. But yeah, Penn would LOVE to get one of those.)

Along with helping Yancy out with musical stuff, Ozzie has a love for drawing. It’s just something he’s been doing since he was little, though he’s currently much better at pencil-work than painting. 

Patty does a variety of things in his off-time from dancing, but one of his favorites is sculpting. He’s had quite a lot of practice, but he usually tends to just make small pieces for decoration. This includes little clay charms for necklaces (yeah, he definitely made one as a present for Delux one time, lol. I’m thinking maybe…a little black fox? Obviously Delux can’t wear it when he’s working for fear of losing it on the streets or at a client’s place, but we both know he’d still appreciate it.) 

Despite being a terrifying outer monstrosity, LeviathanPat is sort of claustrophobic. This is due to all the time he was trapped in the underground tomb that Penn and Illinois accidentally freed him from. He usually spends a lot of time hunting outside at night (because of his whole window schtick), but if he ever finds an opportunity to actually go inside a place, then it’ll have to be good and spacious for him to be comfortable. (Along with his shapeshifting skills, LeviathanPat is also capable of sizeshifting, which he can use in a pinch. Though, due to his pride, he’d never even consider turning smaller than a human, lol). 

Ahhhh all of these are great!

Some of these headcanons are not much different than mine, you also definitely got me to rewatch the gummy vs real video, always makes me laugh to see Matt and Steph freak out over the gummy spider lmao

Here’s some small headcanons I had because why not

Penn would absolutely be a skull collector, but most importantly he would be a cat. Illinois would be chilling on the couch one day and Penn would jump on him and ominously hand him a deer skull and smile before walking away, leaving Illinois to sit there dumbfounded and a little scared of where the hell Penn got that.

I’d imagine Patty sleeping in the most pretzel like positions ever to be seen from humanity lol. Imagine being his roommate and walking into the room to see him sleep in a way like he’s posing for a renaissance painting.

Patty would also be a god at drag makeup. Like give this man a makeup palette and he’ll go face your face the vision of god.

I think Ozzy would be (and forced to be) Yancy’s costume designer when he wants to do a musical number. I like the idea of a brute muscle having the most patient hobby like art. I also think painting is much harder personally, but with a bit of good behavior, he’ll probably learn to paint watercolor.

Caliban, my man, would 100 percent horde all of the Diet Coke from others. Bro does NOT like to share when it comes to his treats. Even R.D. would make Caliban hesitate to give up his precious soda, but one look from her and he’ll melt and gladly hand one over. Azalea and Murdock on the other hand they’ll fight like cats for one. (Mad would get his head chopped off before he could even ask)

Now LeviathanPat, I got plans for him, but one funny headcanon is that while his shapeshifting is effective and sometimes in his advantage, he definitely got ran over one too many times by a random car. Not in his eldritch form, but maybe around like a bear size or deer when he wanders.

He also hates hunting season as he was also mistaken for a deer one too many times, and it was getting tiring or either killing or scaring off the hunters. I would also agree on LeviathanPat being claustrophobic due to him being trapped in the tomb, but one thing he may not find unnerving?

Possession, he’ll just have to find the perfect host to leech on…

And he had already laid his eyes upon him the moment the tomb was opened.

[kiwifrowner]

what should i do? shall i cut your three fingers or use the lying fork to eat the clementine? i was mixing pickles along with my indian gradmother, she tells me you never know taste of the food you make from your own mouth, let spark in eyes of others tell you the story. inside a gothic fiction I'm sitting on my husband's lap, his eyes gone bleak, same color tastes same, so i poke my fingers in his eyes/ i was sure pickle was made well when his eyes bled.

hunger

/ˈhʌŋɡə/

noun

• a feeling of dangerous ulterior motive. "I tell you, hunger is not a political joke"

you must be terrified of one's hunger. i have heard wolfspiders eat their own babies, because i know a poor mother shall chop her organs if her kid asked what is for dinner. my heart sweetie, my heart/ so shall she serve it on the plate and push it towards you. a boy i liked learned his first word as love and the very next word he spelled was desire and so when he learnt the third word he stopped. he had a picture book in his hand, a knife drawn along every sharp object existed. every lover of mine left one finger or toe before they leave, and i'm sick of refrigerator that looks like some experimental laboratory having preservatives of body parts and i'm sick of having one or two fingers pressed against my bread with spilling mustard sauce for breakfast just because i cannot afford a full liver because no one has found me worthy enough to have left a complete organ behind, it is always one finger or a toe. because brutality can taste of sugar when you are in wrong love, the heros in me are the villains about me. you should know the generations of howling, the generations of abandonment, the generations of grief i had to pet, made god cry.

once again inside of a gothic fiction, i am a taurus so my upbringing is to be a labour of rage and shame, my husband should be a leo for he has wolfsbane spine bone. our bedroom is slaughter corner of the house, him and i look in the Mirror of Erised, he licks my neck i feel a graze of bullet on my skin he continues, for years now i grew icicles from scalp instead of hair it scraped his clavicle. i sniff like shark does to blood, like a goldfish has been wounded a mile ago in ocean. like i can smell food. like i have to kill. like i have been hungry all my life.

070222

— muffinsincoffin, "once again inside of a gothic fiction"

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Loving the Kaiju AU and I have a few questions

How would yuu react to the other staffs being like a father/uncle/grandfather/brother to yuu? how would the other boys see yuu as? Will any of the staff and boys would try and communicate with yuu?

Well, for the most part, Yuu’s reactions are up to you guys since it’s meant to represent us/our charactesr as the MC just like the game. I try to keep it as open to creative freedom to inspire you guys since everyone reacts differently. >v<;

Anyway, I did discuss the Kaiju trying to communicate with Yuu in this post here, where we also learn that Grim can, in fact, understand human languages! (Yes, languages, not just English or Japanese) Despite the language barrier, Yuu will manage to learn how to replicate the sounds and frequencies they hear…including certain ones that should be impossible for normal human vocal chords. Hmmm… >.>

But! We’ll cross that bridge sooner or later. In the meantime, more “Help! I’m trapped on an island with no memories and I’ve been adopted by two Kaiju dads!!” for all of us~! >vÓ

So we know that Yuu (as would anyone in their position) was baffled and floored at the realization that Nevermore and Crewelfang adopted them, let alone the fact that the two were…gentle towards them. It was sweet…in a terrifying giant monster sort of way, and tat the moment it was their saving grace against the other creatures of the island.

And then came the rest of the “family”.

Once the rest of the staff came into the picture, Yuu and Grimfang were safely hidden behind Nevermore’s forepaws as the others investigated the duo with curious eyes. It doesn’t take long for Yuu to figure out that they’d been accepted by this group of powerful monsters that—according to MIRA—not even the researchers had been able to observe to such an extent. In a way it’s kinda nice having the extra security of their extended “family”.

Some took their new familial role as “surrogate uncle” a little too enthusiastically though. ^_^;

///

Crewel: *trying to groom Yuu* “How in the world did you get yourself so filthy walking outside the den? Hold still, pup!”

Yuu: *glaring at Grim, who bumped them into a muddy water puddle* [“Traitor!”]

Grim: “Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to groom yourself.”

Crewel: “Don’t think you’re getting out of a grooming session. Your fur is a mess!”

Grim: “What?! No fair! I can keep myself cleaner than the human!”

WHUD!!!

Vargas: “Good morning!” *standing on top of a massive whale-like creature* “I’ve brought the nibblings breakfast, freshly hunted from the sea!”

Crewel: *long-suffering sigh* “Ashton…two things. One: get that thing out of my den before it starts to reek! And two: surely you don’t expect the pups to eat that whole thing in one sitting?”

Vargas: “They’re both skin and bones. If they’re going to survive in this pack, they need to build up their muscles!” *begins shredding the carcass into chunks with shark teeth* “Once they’ve finished this, they’ll need to eat eggs to help them grow big and strong—like me!”

Crewel: “That is far too much for either of them to eat!”

Yuu: *hiding behind Crewel’s paws* [“What is happening?!”]

Crowley: *outside* “Why is there a fish blocking the entrace?!”

//-------//

Yuu: *trying to follow MIRA’s instructions to build a makeshift survival “bed” out of leaves and sticks* [“I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be very comfortable…”]

Grim: “So why are you wasting your time?”

Yuu: [“Ugh…what I wouldn’t give for a mattress. Even a sleeping bag would be an upgrade!”] *continues trying to tie the twine…before stopping with a shudder* [“…what was that…?”]

Grim: “What was what?”

Yuu: *whirls around, gasping in horror* [“AAAAA-!!”]

Grim: *turns and sees massive spider-like chameleon emerging from the trunk of a tree* “FYGAAAAAAAA-!!!!”

Crowley: “What is going on out there?!”

Sam: *fully materializes just as Crewel and Crowley come charging out* “Hello, little imps~! So sorry for scaring you both.”

Crewel: “Sam? For Seven’s sake, we thought the pups were in danger!”

Sam: “My apologies! I brought gifts for your new litter of imps—in stock! And I guarantee there will be something they’ll want in there."

Yuu: *notices something odd about Sam and squints* [“…is…that Kaiju wearing a satchel?”] *yelps as Sam dumps the contents of the satchel onto the ground, the pile towering over them* [“Wha-?!...whoa! Whoa!! Look at all this!”]

Crowley: *tilts head in confusion as Yuu starts digging around the pile, Grim joining shortly after out of curiosity* “Well, they certainly seem interested in your selection. Now, say that they do find something. What do you want in exchange?”

Sam: “Just a simple trade this time, since most of the stock is unusable to us. A few mango seeds and a crystal from your mountain nest will suffice!”

Crowley: “Deal! Such a generous offer~!”

Yuu: *has already found a satchel and a several duffle bags, filling it with small items, towels, and blankets* [“Wow. How did he even get a full shower caddy with soap and shampoo?! Score! Now I can take a proper bath!”]

Grim: *grabs and drags out a large mattress* “The heck is this?”

Yuu: *gasp!!!* [“BED!!!!”] *dives off the pile onto the mattress before bouncing off, climbing back on and sprawling out with a grin and giggling happily* [“Oh, I’m going to sleep well tonight!”]

Crewel: “They seem quite taken with that slab in particular.”

Grim: “Huh…hey, move over, I wanna try it too!”

Yuu: [“Wha-? Hey! No! Get off! You’re gonna squish it!”]

Grim: “I’m not gonna squish it! Quit hoggin’ the good stuff!” *lightly pins Yuu down under his arm*

Yuu: *squirming to get out from under him* [“Move your big butt! Nevermore!”]

Crowley: “Play nice, you two!”

Crewel: “Don’t make me put you two on the discipline branch again!”

(In the end, the two wound up sharing the mattress with Yuu occasionally sleeping on Grim’s back or belly. When he wants to be mischievous, he’ll flip the mattress over while Yuu is on it)

//--------//

Crowley: “…perhaps it was unwise for Grim and Lucius to meet…”

Lucius: “Rrreaaaarrrl!!”

Grim: “Shut up! Yer the one who stole my snack!”

Lucius: “Hissss!”

Grim: “Why you-!”

Trein: “Enough!”

Grim: “But he started it!”

Crewel: “Down boy!”

Crowley: “Are you sure you can handle them both, Mozus?”

Trein: “You forget that this is not my first time raising hatchlings or kits. They will be fine while you two patrol the island.”

Crewel: “I’ll hold you to that.”

Yuu: [“Wait, where are you guys going?”]

Crowley: “Be a good hatchling for Mozus while we’re gone. We will return at noon.”

-Several hours later-

Crowley: “We’re ba—oh.”

Trein: *the air is filled with flickering images of creatures and scenes, scales shimmering while a gentle thrum radiating from Trein’s chest as he continues telling a story to an enthralled Yuu and Grim*

Yuu: *can’t understand what Trein is saying but enchanted by the illusions as they try to piece together what the story is about*

Crewel: “Hmph…so you do still have a few tricks up your sleeve for an old dog. Well done.”

//---------//

I think it’s safe to say that Yuu has had a lot of interesting encounters with their new adoptive family members. XD But how would they feel in the end after everything is said and done?

///------------///

After everything that had transpired throughout the last few days, it was no surprise that Yuu was exhausted. Despite this, however, they found themselves lying wide awake. Wrapped in one of their new blankets with their back pressed to Grimfang’s side as they both shared the mattress, it was like they had their own portable radiator…that snores. And like a massive pair of organic walls that blocked the chill of the night, Nevermore and Crewelfang encircled the two with their heads resting on each other’s haunches. The den was filled with quiet breathing, the wind howling outside sounding muffled.

In the silence, Yuu’s thoughts swirled: ‘Who am I?’ This was a question that had been plaguing them since they were first grounded to the nest with nothing to do but think. They could remember things like what objects or fruit were called and how they functioned, or how to work with things like a computer. And yet the more they tried to remember their life before the beach, the harder it became to recall even the most basic information.

Name? Age? Easy. School? Nothing. Job skills? No clue. Friends? Family? Pets?

Complete blanks.

All they could recall was a vague feeling of warmth and comfort, that someone out there cared for them. Who, they couldn’t say for sure…and the thought terrified them more than they thought. Would…they ever remember what their life was like? Who they were as a person?...

Yuu blinked as a rippling wave of shimmering gold light crossed their vision—no, their mind—before a small drop of emerald joined in, followed by a feeling of warmth and worry not their own bloomed in their chest. Raising their head from the mattress, Yuu was met with Nevermore’s golden gaze as he watched them—a sight they’d grown accustomed to after the first night’s scare he’d had.

What had MIRA called that color phenomenon before? ‘Echoing resonance’? They’d thought it had been part of the dream the first night it happened, but ever since they’d been experiencing it from both Nevermore and Crewelfang. [“It is unique to Kaiju in that they may direct the frequency to a group or a singular individual. Researchers believe this to be an evolutionary trait designed to communicate between young offspring and other pack members akin to echolocation. Study has shown that humans may experience this from Kaiju test subjects, though no further information can be gleaned due to the rarity of the phenomenon,”] the computer had told them.

…pack members and offspring…

“…I don’t understand you at all,” Yuu told him, his ear twitching as he tilted his head in response. “I mean…you’re not even human, and yet you decided to ‘adopt’ me because of that stupid serum. Do you even know what I am? Or do you just not care?” That last part sounded more frustrated than they’d intended, but Nevermore’s expression seemed…softer than before now, colorful ripples of blue and violet filling their mind as a wave of calm washed over them. “…then again…I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t found me that day. And since I can’t even remember them…you’re the closest thing to a family I have now.”

Nevermore gently lowered his head to rest it next to the mattress, his eye watching them as a quiet sigh escaped.

Reaching out to pet his cheek, Yuu couldn’t help but chuckle when he began to “purr”, the sound more akin to a soft, whistling warble. “Thank you,” they whispered, their eyes heavy now as a sense of security filled them. “For everything…”

[ejzah]

The Other Shoe, Part 16

***

“Now what do we think we’re doing here?” Deeks asked the bean plant he was trying to untangle from an over enthusiastic cucumber vine. “Come on, that’s just not polite.”

“Should I be worried that you’re talking to the produce?”

Deeks looked over his shoulder, smiling as Sam approached. It reminded him of not so long ago when Sam had come, with his lifesaving offer.

“Only if they start talking back,” Deeks replied. He tossed his gardening gloves to the side. “Can I interest you in a cheeky cucumber or some slightly mature wax beans?”

“Maybe later,” Sam said wryly. “Looks like everything’s flourishing.”

“Yeah, it got a little out of hand while I was convalescing.” He gave Sam a once over. They’d gotten together a few times since Deeks’ release from the hospital, but they’d both been surprisingly between follow up appointments, therapy (for Deeks), and catching up on everything that went to the wayside in the last month. “You look good, man.”

“You too.” Holding out an arm, Sam tugged Deeks in for a firm hug. E squeezed Deeks extra hard once, then stepped back with an approving nod. “Good to see you with some meat back on your bones and some color in your skin. You been back out on the water yet?”

“Just to wade. I got a couple more weeks before I can fully submerge this thing.” Deeks pointed towards his scar and shrugged regretfully. “I can’t wait.”

“You’ll get there,” Sam assured him. “Though if you get eaten by a shark and waste my good kidney, I will kill you.”

“I’ll be careful. What about you? Did you have a good trip with Kam and Aiden?”

“I did. Though Kam spent the entire time worrying over me. Wouldn’t let me cook or clean a thing.”

“Sounds familiar,” Deeks said with a soft grin, gesturing for Sam to follow him into the house. “They’re just glad we’re ok.”

“I know. And I’m grateful, but in terms of recoveries, this one is way down on the list. I didn’t nearly bleed out, wasn’t poisoned or shot,” Sam made a face as he listed off previous injuries.

“You didn’t tell Kam that, did you?” Deeks imagined the youngest Hanna would show just how terrifying she could be if pushed.

“Oh hell no. She’d never let me out of her sight again.”

“Sounds about right. So, when do you go back to the office?” Deeks asked. He grabbed a couple glasses and filled them with iced tea from the fridge, handing one to Sam.

“A couple more weeks. Kilbride is making me take the full medical leave before he’ll discuss anything with me,” Sam explained. “I’ve had some offers from other agencies. I’m gonna see what all my options are before I make any decisions.”

A frisson of guilt ran through Deeks at the reminder that Sam had essentially given up his career for him. He pushed it down, knowing that Sam had know interest in apologies or pity.

“I think I’d like to do something involving teaching. Maybe I’ll look into becoming an adjunct law professor. Or maybe they’ll let me back into FLETC,” Deeks said.

“Either one would be lucky to have you,” Sam told him, then offered a teasing smirk. “Though I’m not sure some of us are brave enough to take on any recruits you’d train. The legal debates alone would be ridiculous.”

“Oh, for sure. It would be a requirement.” Chuckling along with Sam, Deeks traced a bead of condensation sliding down the side of his glass. . “I know you keep saying it’s not necessary, but I appreciate everything you’ve given up for me,” he said. “You’ve literally given me a second change at life.”

Sam accepted the words with a nod and a gentle smile.

“That’s what brothers do for each other.”

“To brothers,” Deeks echoed, holding up his half-empty glass. Sam clinked their glasses together.

[feelin-lo]

A Pirate's Prize...

A Bloody Parchment fic :)

@aesopsbaby @boiling-potato @sealedchasm

Take a lookie here :))

It's only short because I ran out of ideas really quickly, maybe I'll expand on it, maybe not...

Deep in the brig of an infamous ship, lives a creature so scary, so blood curdlingly petrifying, so bone chilling... they say it could kill you with a single glare, have you in a snare... keep you, have you... kill you.

"Honey~!" The pirate grinned, walking down the steps into the brig, where a tank of water was kept with his beloved inside.

The Pirate; Meztli, was absolutely mental, for not only keeping a creature as terrifying as this, but for loving it unconditionally.

"I brought you some brekkie." He beamed, helping his beloved out of the tank.

"and who made it, was it you, or was it Trickster?"

The creature teased, laying back in Meztli's chest.

The creature; Lo, was a Merman. Top half of a Human, bottom half of a Fish. His fishtail was beautiful, like a ruby... shiny too. His skin, pale as paper and delicate as glass... he had long brown hair, beautiful piercing blue eyes... gills on his neck and waist, red fins on his forearms and back.

Meztli brought some cooked fish to Lo's mouth. "You needn't baby me, Captain, I'm an independent Fish." He chuckled, nibbling at the fish. "It definitely tastes like Trickster's cooking."

"Bah! That girlie can't tell her right hand from a sea urchin." Meztli pouted. "I'm teasing, Darling." Lo reassured, taking off Meztli's hat. "You know the rule..." Meztli joked.

"rule?"

"Save a horse, Ride a cowboy... Save a cow, Milk the Milkman... Save a ship, Sail the Pirate."

"excuse me?"

"Nevermind..."

Lo let out a little chuckle, looking at the tank he was kept in, then up at the small bouts of light that spilled from above. "When can I leave the brig? It's cold and lonely down here..."

Meztli sighed, running his hands though his beloved's hair. "I'm not sure, Darling... I could keep you in a bathtub in my quarters but... I wouldn't want any of my crew barging in... I know what they're like when they see a precious jewel... but... you, my beautiful ruby, are mine. And mine alone... if anyone dares to touch you without my permission or even dare touch the same water as you..."

He leant down, whispering into Lo's ear.

"I'll remove every one of their limbs and feed it to the sharks below."

Lo shivered softly, not only from the coldness of the air, but because of what his beloved captain had to say... "You don't have to go through all that trouble... For me.."

"oh but I do, my beautiful guppy, I do. Because you're my precious gem, my ruby... the light of my life... and an amazing kisser."

Lo chuckled. "You didn't act like this when we first met... when we first met, I remember you staring as I was caught in your fishing net, scanning my body, your hands gliding across my scales... then, your nose bled, and you carried me here."

Meztli scoffed. "Hah! I have no recollection of the event. But then again, any man or woman would be foolish not to feel weak and vulnerable by your gaze... you're like a glass of wine... sweet and bitter, causing a burn at the back of my throat... you make me lose my mind... my words slur, my movements stagger... and just like Wine. I'm completely drunk... drunk on your love..."

Meztli pressed a kiss to the back of Lo's hand.. "my one and only..."

A soft blush crept into Lo's cheeks as Meztli spoke more and more, taking off his purple Captain's coat and placing it around Lo. "Purple is the colour of royalty..."

"oh? Do you think you're the pirate king now, Meztli, Darling?"

"maybe so... and you can rule beside me..."

Lo chuckled, placing a kiss to Meztli's cheeks, then nose, forehead... finally, mouth.

"I shouldn't get my hopes up... I'll wait here... for as long as it may take. You visit me everyday, feed me... love me... dance a sinful dance under the moonlight with me..."

Meztli listened before pressing a finger to Lo's Lips.

"I would die for you... I would kill for you."

He moved a hand to Lo's waist.

"and I would do so, without a second of hesitation. Because you're my Beloved. My love...

...

...

...

My. Lo."

[kakushino]

The scent of iron and copper soon invaded your nose, followed by what sounded like choking, and…more ripping sounds? It sounded so sinewy, fleshy and wet, the iron and copper becoming a nauseating combination. You were afraid to crack open your eyes, a croaky laugh filling your ears to accompany the choking. “You sure have some nerve, don’t you?” The voice asked, sounding male. “I normally like things as disgraceful as you, because you’re like me. A disgusting, pathetic stain on this world.” He laughed, amusement and mockery interlacing in his voice, the air around you almost feeling warm from how he spoke. It took less than a moment for it to change drastically. “However, you went after the one little human I tend to be drawn to.” A scream ripped through the area, the sound of something plunging into flesh and breaking bone ringing out, making you press yourself to the wall, as if it could come to life and conceal you in a protective grasp, a whimper falling from your throat. Another tear and splatter of blood, the droplets spraying across you, your hot tears that fell from your cheeks washing away the crimson liquid. You were terrified. More or less than before, it didn’t matter, your blood ran cold with pure, unadulterated fright. You cracked one of your eyes open, reaching up and smearing away a bit of blood that was apparently clinging to your eyelashes, you barely managed to bite back a yell of horrified shock at the sight before you; the man that was trying to grope and force himself on you was now dead, hanging from the blood red blade of a kama by his jaw, one arm, a hand, and a leg missing from his body, the holder of the weapon being a strange being with black markings on grayed skin, a mop of green and black hair on their head, their frame broad but terribly thin, hip bones and ribs being visible, as if the skin was tightly cinched to their bones. They had their back facing you, and much like you, blood covered their body and much of the area around the two of you. You wiped your other eye, looking around and covering your mouth in terror as you saw the missing appendages strewn about as if they were toys in a children’s nursery. It was a bloodbath made from one man, but why? Was this mystery figure going to kill you next? Slaughter you like cattle? You were crying again, letting out soft sobs that caught the stranger’s attention. Sinking to your knees, you began to plead for your life, squeezing your eyes shut as you cried. “P-please, please no, I-I have nothing to give, I-I’m sorry, please, d-don’t hurt me…!” You whimpered, shivering like a leaf as you crumpled before this being as they turned to face you, blood rushing to your ears. You were waiting for your death, a painful demise at the hands of someone so cruel, and yet it never came, the chill you anticipated being replaced by a gentleness you couldn’t have ever accounted for. A calloused thumb came to swipe away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks, smudging them away alongside the crimson liquid that had splattered all over you, a croaking coo accompanying it all. You don’t know why, but you looked up again, your eyes meeting amber orbs of carved kanji with a tender gaze burning into you. The killer indeed was a man; one with sharp, unique features made up his face shape, a lazy, shark like smile stretched across his cheeks, and black splotches coming from his right cheek and spreading over his nose, another large blotch sitting above his left eye, more presumably hidden by his shaggy black and green locks. He looked at you so sweetly, as if you’d hung the stars in the sky even, as your mother would’ve described it, his roughened hand caressing your soft, stained skin so carefully, as if you were made of glass. 

Ask and you shall receive, my dear~!

🤭

Gods, yes YES

[muppet-meddler]

Heres further reading on horses to show why you are wrong https://youtu.be/SHfqtaa0VI8 - The Gunch

While The Video You Sent Is Fascinating To My Ecological Autism, I Have A Particular Bone To Pick With You, Gunch.

I Am Fully Open To Opposing Views On My Blog, As I Aim To Make It A Centerpoint For Civil Discourse.

However, This Response Was Not Civil.

Really, It's Hardly Discourse. And While I Normally Would Not Give It The Light Of Day, As My Blog Is New, I Will Use You As An Example.

My Blog Is Not The Place For Fanaticism, Equine Or Otherwise.

If You Had Taken The Time To Calmly Question Me Further Rather Than Attacking My Intelligence And Character, You Would Find That I Meant No True Disrespect By My Statement.

My Favorite Animal Is The Ocean Sunfish, Another Animal That I Consider To Be Evolutionarily Challenged For Many Reasons. However, Its Ability To Persist As A Species For Millenia Despite Its... Many Oddities Is The Reason I Love Them So Dearly.

They Have No Swim Bladder, No True Operating Tail Fin, And They Travel In A Manner So Solitary That Their Ability To Persist As A Species Can Only Be Ascribed To The Fact That They Lay More Eggs Than Any Vertibrate On The Planet. They Are So Low In Nutrition That Sharks Treat Them More Like Pool Toys Than Meals. They Are Rife With Parasites, And Often Become Stuck At The Surface Of The Ocean And Cook In The Sun If A Current Prevents Them From Righting Themselves.

And Yet, They Take Multiple Ventures Between The Midnight Zone And The Surface, Following Currents Of Invertibrates To Feed On Every Day. A Fish With A Swim Bladder Would Explode From The Pressure Alone. Many Would Die From The Temperature Shifts. They Lay Sideways On The Surface Of The Ocean To Warm Up After Their Ventures, And Have A Symbiotic Relationship With Parasite Eating Ocean Birds. Because Their Rear Fin Is A Nightmare Of Infinitely Growing Into Itself, They Have Adapted A Rather Fascinating Means Of Swimming With Their Front Fins.

Sometimes, Our Greatest Weaknesses Are Our Greatest Strengths. My Point Still Stands That Many Species Can Persist On Three Legs, At Least For A Time. Many Can Go On After The Leg Has Healed. Once A Horse's Leg Has Broken, It Almost Never Heals Well Enough To Provide A Quality Of Life Worth Living.

Much Like Myself, They Are Also Prone To A Wide Array Of Severe Mental Afflictions. My Father's Horse Has Such Bad Anxiety She Is Terrified Of Her Own Farts. In Truth, That Is, In Fact, A Bit Of An "L".

This Does Not Mean That I Do Not Hold Respect For Them In Other Ways.

Check Yourself, Gunch. I Will Not Interact With You Further If You Cannot Hold Discourse With Me In Good Faith.

[coolbeanzeaglbones]

Fanfic chapter for the one where they get real jobs

To Eaglebones' surprise, Barbara actually was doing her job on Tuesday, which was a rare occurrence.

He was able to actually go on his break, which had him hitching a ride to the beach.

He found himself regretting giving Ricky his pepper spray, but he did pick up a rock before deciding to hitch a ride.

The man was creepy, giving him a weird side eyed smile and making breathy conversation. The whole ride was uncomfy and he actually got out of the car before they stopped.

Yep, just at a stop sign, got out of the car.

He walked the rest of the way to the beach and found Ricky near the ocean, “Finally, I was starting to think you weren't going to be able to make it.” He said with a smile and Eaglebones noticed that he didn't have his braces anymore.

He chose not to say anything about it, “Yeah, I hitched a ride. Guy was a bit creepy, you have any idea how to get the shark fighter to come to the beach?”

Ricky looked around the beach for a second before his face lit up, “Hold on.” He said, leaving and coming back holding a jagged piece of glass in his hand.

They both just stared at it, seemingly obvious what the plan was, “Okay.” Bones took the piece of glass and walked over to the water.

He took a deep breath before gripping the sharp side of the glass in his right hand and yanking.

He did a sharp intake of breath before putting his hand into the water. The cold salt water stung his cut and the blood was like a cloud of smoke pooling away from a fire.

He waved his hand around in the water, Ricky made a little sound of discomfort at the sight of blood. Eaglebones laughed, “Ricky, it's just blood, it hurts like hell, but it's just blood.” He turned to face Ricky, hand still in the water.

Eaglebones realized how goofy they must've looked. Ricky looked a bit green in the face, “All I can think about is the bacteria getting in the cut and just.” He broke off with a shudder.

Eaglebones’ break was thirty minutes long and it took him about five minutes to get down here, and they had been standing for about fifteen. He was probably going to have to walk back, so he was going to be late.

And get scolded. Yay. He was about to tell Ricky that he had to go, when he looked down at his hand.

It wasn't his hand that bothered him, it was the massive shark RIGHT THERE! Right next to his hand, about to chomp down on some good food. He scrambled back and Ricky seemed to have seen the shark too because he had grabbed Bones under his shoulders and pulled him pretty far from the ocean.

Oh, and of course, why the hell wouldn't it be a land shark? Eaglebones thought to himself as the shark stood on two legs, “Oh great, now we die, hope you didn't have any students.” Eaglebones said sardonically as they both backed away.

He wished he hadn't dropped the piece of glass he used to cut himself, then at least he wouldn't be unarmed.

The shark began to advance and the two of them just stood there. Ricky grabbed Eaglebones' arms, whimpering. It was clear he was terrified and Eaglebones was too.

They knew they couldn't leave because the shark would probably follow them, “Okay, Ricky, listen to me, we're gonna fight this thing.” His voice was as unconfident as they come.

Ricky looked him dead in the eye and then straightened up, “We go out the way we came in.”

“Idiots?”

Ricky lost it a bit and the shark went at the both of them. Then a foot hit it in the face.

It was…the shark fighter. (Angelic choir singing)