#tw: mention of s

[samgirl98]

Wail of the Silent 2/?

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TW: this chapter mentions suicide and thoughts of self-harm. Proceed with caution. Do not read if this triggers you

Danny Fenton, aka Phantom, flew over the smog-ridden city. It was cloudy, the sky threatening to release rain. He couldn’t see the stars.

(Not that it was possible to see them in the crime-ridden city.)

He had finally reached Gotham City.

“Of all the places Spectra could’ve run off to, it just had to be Gotham.”

Of course, considering all the city's misery, it made sense that Penelope Spectra would find her way there.

“Now I have to dodge the stupid Bats while looking for her.”

Still, as much as he grumbled, he was responsible for protecting people from ghosts. Ever since he told his parents the truth two years ago, they more or less accepted him (even while they kicked him out of the house.), and he had had more time to capture ghosts.

They gave him gadgets and access to the portal (as long as they supervised.) and paid for his apartment while giving him some money. And, bonus, they no longer shot at him and didn’t want to dissect him.

(Did they love him, though? They had kicked him out of his only home when he was eighteen…)

Thankfully, Danny had been able to make his patented inventions that focused on protection from ghosts instead of offensive weapons, so he was getting some income from that. After all, the people of Amity Park would rather have something that protected them than fight ghosts.

He had been able to graduate high school, but he couldn’t go to college. Jazz was encouraging him to take some courses in community college. She argued that since his parents were helping with capturing ghosts (and releasing them instead of experimenting on them.), he should at least think about doing more than ghost hunting.

He couldn’t. Danny had a responsibility to Amity Park. Besides, he had powers; he couldn’t not use them to protect his town. It was his fault the ghosts were coming through in the first place.

 If I hadn’t opened the portal…if I hadn’t been a stupid teenager…

The portal was mainly closed now, but natural portals spawned almost weekly in Amity Park, allowing any ghost to get through. This time, Spectra had come through again. She had caused havoc in Amity Park. Three had died, two by their own hands by the time he had figured out that Spectra had had a hand in it. When she figured out Danny was after her, Spectra fled Amity Park.

So, he followed her.

At the moment, he had left Amity Park in the hands of the Red Huntress and his little more capable parents. Spectra was not a ghost that should be allowed in the mortal plane. He’s seen what happens when she feeds on someone too long.

(He could still see the shadow of a hanging body…)

Danny made it invisibly to the top of the tallest building he could find. Wayne Tower was in the middle of an island Danny had found out was called Old Gotham. (Thank you, Google Maps.) He could see the city sprawl in front of him. Danny decided to remain invisible in case any Bats were around. He knew he wasn’t a meta (he was dead, it was a medical condition), but he was sure Batman wouldn’t see it that way.

Looking at the city before him, Danny had no idea where to start. There were so many angry shades and ghosts hanging around that he couldn’t pinpoint Spectra’s unique ectosignature with the Ecto-finder he had with him. And Danny’s ghost sense was useless as it kept going off every other street.

Danny sighed. He decided to go in a random direction when he heard it—no, he felt it.

A ghost was wailing in pain. It was broadcasting its agony and torment to every ghost, shade, and Danny. The wail turned into a roar before suddenly cutting off. The silence that followed left Danny feeling disoriented.

Danny went in the direction that the ghost had projected its pain. He had to help. No one should have to deal with that suffering alone. Besides, if he could feel it, Danny knew Spectra would pinpoint the misery still coating the air.

Danny flew into the night, determined to help.

____

Jason got up, knowing he couldn’t sleep any longer that night.

His shoulders curved inward from the heavy feeling he felt on his back.

(Spectra smiled as her shadowy hands held onto Jason’s shoulders.)

He started making a cup of tea when his feelings reached a crescendo. The cup Jason was holding on to hit the floor and broke. Jason stared at the shattered pieces and felt the sudden urge to use one to stop the crawling under his skin.

(Spectra amplified the need to hurt himself. She smiled as the boy’s emotions fed her powers.)

It was only Jason’s stubbornness that stopped him from doing it. He ignored the broken pieces of glass and sat on the couch. Silent tears left tracks on his cheeks. He wanted his dad, his family—anyone to stop what he was feeling.

He felt he was going insane!

(Spectra smiled and inwardly hoped the boy would last longer than her other victims. His misery made her youthful quicker than any other victim, and more powerful.)

Just as Jason felt his mind was going to break, the feelings went away suddenly, leaving Jason panting hard.

(Spectra felt when Phantom got close and left.)

Jason pulled his hair, wanting, needing the physical pain to ground him to the present.

What was happening to him?

(Spectra smiled as she stared at her reflection at a random window. Her skin was glowing, and her face was free of wrinkles. Spectra’s hair was shining and luxurious. Yes, she hoped the boy would last a while.  

Her smile grew as the ghost boy flew overhead, completely missing her.)

____

Though the city of Gotham seemed like a cruel, cold mistress, she cared for her people in her way.

Every vile villain, hero, anti-hero, and citizen was welcomed into her dark and shadowy bosom. The shades and ghosts who had lived and died in her dark alleys and streets knew their mistress would take care of them.

So, when a new ghost showed up and started targeting one of her knights (not just any knight but the one who had been born in her old buildings, the one who had been raised and shaped in her streets. The one she could not save as he had died so far from her soil.), she felt a visceral anger deep in her being.

How dare this spirit come and target her favored knight? She would not let the ghost get away from it. Lady Gotham let her consciousness spread throughout the city, trying, needing to find a way to help…There! A young half-ghost, looking, searching, wanting to help.

She guided the young ghost to her knight—the one who had suffered at the hands of the Joker and his father. (Even now, she doesn’t protect Bruce Wayne as much as she used to, only if it was necessary. The shadows of the city no longer covered him as tightly as they used to.)

She would do whatever she could to help Jason Todd.

The last part was a surprise to me. I hadn't intended to make Gotham a sentient city, but she decided to come screaming out in full force. Yes, Lady Gotham is holding a grudge against Bruce for hurting Jason.

[uncanny-tranny]

Honestly, there is a certain type of fetishizing of violence that occurs when you are the victim of abuse - wherein people talk directly to you about how much they fantasize about your abuser/s dying and being killed - "all abusers must be killed!" they say.

As a victim of prolonged abuse, I never felt cared for when people indulged that information to me. It often feels like my abuse is being exploited for others to enact their own violent fantasies and secret desires - my abuse means nothing to them in the same way that I didn't matter to my abusers. It's not support - it's just another cycle of violence.

I'm begging people to care more about victims and survivors than they do about retribution of abusers. Nowhere along the way should your focus on the abuser outweigh the people affected by their abuse. If you truly want to support abuse victims and survivors, start with us

[hardcoregayanalsegx]

"Why would you do that to yourself" I'm trying my best to soothe the pain, trying to cradle it so that maybe just maybe it will stop crying out

[crackerbarrelcheese]

Kicking my feet blushing like a school girl when ppl say

“Cutspo!”

“Omg were twins”

“I love how u cut”

“Ur cuts are so cute”

IT HAS ME SO PROUD THENX CNMZNCB I LOVE THIS COMMUNITY

[l-0-s-t-at-s-3-a]

TW a painting I made w my fresh bl00d

[stimpry]

im not queuing this because it fuckign sucks

if i were a lesser man i would say its shitty on purpose

...not that i tried

[watermel0ns-dumb-cringe]

(,,uhuh tw. brief mentions/implications of s/a.)

DO YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT ISNT TALKED ABOUT ENOUGH THAT INFURIATES ME??

Constance's arc in RTC. Literally nobody talks about it and waters her down to just being the nice mom friend™️ which completely undermines the arc she goes through of both

1. Reclaiming her innocence. Throughout the musical there's a LOT of moments that can represent that arc up until sugar cloud

2. How she wasn't happy with her life and didn't realize the good of it until her dying moments. plagued by that thought until she reaches true happiness now knowing she had a good life in sugar cloud

GGGGOD sometimes the blatant undermining of the arcs each character has (,,excluding Jane. I don't think she ever really had an arc; just. Left in despair only knowing her death and the mourning of something she can't remember, wondering if god itself had abandoned her) me so INFURRIATED LIKE RAGHAJRHRRRUJS THERE'S SO MUCH ANALYSIS POTENTIAL AND THEYRE ALL SO WELL WRITTEN TO BE RELATEABLE IN SOME SHAPE OR FORM

Connie was not all just sunshine & rainbows she was going through the mental WRINGER and struggling with her self-loathing & depression up until her death. She probably still dealt with it throughout the musical — now being plagued by even more secrets to keep & the self loathing of what happened just three hours before. (,,example is. the one scene after Ocean goes "We all died virgins" & Karnak pressures Constance a bit. God that scene makes me so ☹️)

She doesn't like. Fully reclaim her innocence & happiness until sugar cloud — which I like to personally think her letting her hair down is representation of her slowly starting to let go of it all. Just. Truly starting to feel happy, like a little kid again. Realizing she had a good life and appreciating what she had now that she's gone. What she went through doesn't define her. Therefore, she doesn't let it hold her back. Letting that inner child out for whats probably the first time in a LONG time.

And I think that's just. A really beautiful thing to her character that gets ignored a lot; which to me is one of the more relatable aspects of her character. Not realizing how much you love everything until something bad happens. From the smallest things like the feeling of getting into bed after a long day— your body finally relaxing after throbbing with pain & exhaustion all day, or even just seeing the smile on a family/friend's face after not seeing them for a while— to the more specific things such as seeing people being happy around you. Happy to be with you. All while knowing what you've gone through doesn't define who you are; letting that little kid inside of you out into the world to truly feel the warmth of the sun.

God sorry I just absolutely love Constance jawbreaker/sugar cloud had me BAWLING the first few times I heard it and I'm not prepared to sob over it again when I see RTC in february,, anyways THIS FUCKASS FANDOM NEEDS TO STOP UNDERMINING ARCS AND REALLY ANALYZE THE CHARACTERS MORE RAGGHHHHHHH

[stars-bean]

M*A*S*H | 2.14 - "Hot Lips and Empty Arms"

[small-sinclair]

Tarps and Glass

Whumptober 6: Not Realizing They’re Hurt

Bo Sinclair x reader

Tw: blood, hints of murder, dead bodies mention, Bo being a bit obsessive of reader, not proof read

“It’s not my blood.”

Bo didn’t give Lester a chance to break as he hopped out of the truck and ran towards the accident. He saw a blue car tipped over and its side and your white car on the side. The window was cracked and shattered, and the door dented and tangled. He didn’t see you at first as a firefighter tried to hold Bo back, but he shoved him aside and ran towards your smoking car. The air bags were deployed, showing hints of blood, your blood.

“Bo!” His head snapped at your voice and his knees turned into Jello. You were sitting in the back of an ambulance with an EMT looking over you.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to your side. He knelt in front of you and took one of your hands. His eyes never looked away from the dark cherry red on your shirt. He felt his blood grow cold and his heart rise in his throat. “Darlin’, is...is that...?”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand, “No, no; it’s not mine. It's the others.”

“How did it get on you?” He looked up at you, one hand holding your hand while the other ran up and down your arm in a soothing motion. Under different circumstances, he would look good on his knees with pleading eyes. “Sweetheart?”

You closed your eyes as you relived the moment when the other car came barreling towards you. You didn’t mean to, but you squeezed his hand tightly. “I know I was pinned, but...but the other driver wasn’t. He looked over at the other EMTs working on the driver. “He got out of his car and tried to help me.” Your eyes met Bo’s, saying in a soft voice, “He was bleeding bad, but it didn’t stop him. He was trying to help me...he was trying, Bo.” You said his name in such a defeated voice. He never wants to hear you say it like that ever again. “Then he collasped and...and...”

“Shh, cher,” he hushes. He only talks in his deep Cajun when he’s scared; this terrified him to death. “He’ll be alright. Promise.”

“What if he’s not?”

He reaches up and held your cheek. His ring was cold against your skin, sending a comforting chill through you. “I’ll start his heart if I have to, sweetheart, and you know I’ll do it.” he gave a reassuring smile, which faded in moments. “They’ll work on the man and do everything they can.” He came of his knees and kisses your forehead, his lips pressing against your forehead with a lingering touch. “Worry about yourself, mon cher. Do that for me?” He smiled when he saw your nodding, your eyes puffy and read from tears.

Bo kisses your hand before leaving your side to find Lester, who was parked behind a line of firefighters. Worry was edged on his face as he saw Bo, and his eyes never left his as Bo reached into his breast pocket and took out a ciggaret and a lighter.

“They’re fine,” Bo said, casting his gaze over the scene behind him. “The driver saved her, or tired to help...it’s up to the angels to decide.” He looks over at the drapped tarp then back at Lester. “Get those bodies to Vincent, Les. I’ll hitch a ride with the bus.” He blew smoke into the air. “Don’t want cops to see our hunting bounty.” He flashed an amused smile and chuckled. “Damn, it would fun, wouldn’t it?”

Lester shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he looked past his shoulder and into the scene. “You’re gonna to kill that driver, aren’t ‘cha?”

“Tried to take what was mine,” he said as if it was a fact of life. “Can’t let him live.”

“It was an accident—”

“An accident that nearly took ‘em from me,” he said, his eyes hardening. “He tried to help her, yes, but he nearly killed her. That’s unforgivable...something I can’t overlook, Les. It won’t be my blood on my hands; it’ll be his. Now,” he handed his half-lit cig to Lester, “take the bodies to Vincent.”

Lester hesitated but sighed and took the cigarette, placing it in his mouth. “Be safe then. Don’t get caught, either. They don’t know what we do, Bo.”

“And I’ll keep it dat way,” he said, nodding. “Get drivin’, raccoon. Those bodies will smell soon.”

[harveywritings92]

Captured Thug, the 1-4-1 are interrogating: Least you can do is have that tart suck me off. 

[He nods towards R/n, who grimaces in disgust, (she was disguised as a hooker and they used her to capture the bloke.)]

[The air in the room grows colder as Ghost slowly approaches the tied up man.]

Ghost: That’s all you think she is, eh? Some Tart?

Thug: She gave me blue balls.

Ghost: Oh, Did she?~

[Ghost suddenly rams his foot into the guy’s crotch hard, causing the man to howl in utter agony.] 

Ghost: There. Now they’re black and blue balls....

[bugwolfsstuff]

chat help I am plagued by the unfathomable rage I feel when I am reminded that some people think Odysseus wasnt faithful to Penelope

[randommothsvents]

🚫Pov:🚫

My subconscious trying to decide what (unhealthy) coping mechanism to do tonight

[loonybun]

Check Up

hi. guess who wrote. aren’t you proud. anyways these are like. my favorite ocs. if you’ve known me for very long you know i will never shut up about them ever and have character blogs because god they’re in my brain constantly

contains: med whump/lab whump (not sure which this would classify as. sort of in the middle there.), creepy/intimate carewhumper, doctor whumper, does vian deserve his own mention here yeah he’s a warning all by himself, condescension, restraints, recapture, former living weapon whumpee, magical/sci-fi setting, references to addition and drugs, mentions of brainwashing and memory erasure, betrayal, needles, implied self harm, self harm being weaponized.

i think that’s all but let me know if i’m missing something. this one’s a bit of a doozey. fun for the whole family.

——————————————————

“You look like you slept well.”

He was barely even awake. The room felt like it was spinning, the all too familiar fluorescent lights inducing a dizzying nausea.

The shock of the cold metal on his back forced him into reality. Shit. This was happening. There wasn’t any way out of it. Not an obvious one, anyways.

Koi’s eyes drifted back over to the doctor, who greeted him with a soft smile. Right. Why was he here? Why didn’t he have—

“I took off that little cuff of yours, hopefully you don’t mind. I’ll probably have to answer for that later, but oh well. I figured you’d want to enjoy your last few moments of lucidity.” He murmured, pity crossing his face. “I know you’re not really capable of what they think you are. Poor thing. They think you’re a killing machine! A terrorist! It’s a little funny, actually. I mean, you’re…”

His eyes trailed over Koi for a brief moment. “…Harmless. Completely harmless like this.”

“—I mean, I’m not a big fan of killing people. Kind of why I was trying to avoid this place.”

“Yes, yes, and that’s exactly my point. I guess capable isn’t the right word, is it? I mean, you’ve done it before. I suppose what I’m trying to insinuate is that you’re just unfit to be the monster they’re going to try to break you into.” The doctor hummed, gently ruffling his hair.

“…It’s nice to see you again, by the way. I really did miss you. I know we were never close, but— You were always one of my favorites.”

Koi scoffed. “Enough of a favorite to let out of these restraints? C’mon, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“…You know I can’t, Koi.”

“…Right.” He went quiet for a moment, letting the air grow heavy. Well, might as well rip the bandaid off. “So uh… What are they gonna do?”

And just like that, he was back to his giddy state. “Oh— Yes, I forgot, you like it when I explain these things.”

“You’re uh, not annoyed by it, right? I know a lot of the scientists were and uh—“

“No, no! Not at all. I appreciate your enthusiasm. I always have. People here are just so incredibly impatient.”

“…Oh, uh, thanks. Alright, then yeah, give me the rundown.” Koi already had a good idea about what was going to happen next. They’d throw him in a nice, big cell, give him the whole “You have a purpose here” spiel, and then keep him in there until he either gave in or escaped— not like the former would ever happen.

Vian’s eyes seemed to sparkle as he began to explain. “Well, you see, we figured that since you’re going to be here for a while, we might as well work out that little… Issue… With your magic.”

“And then they’ll expect me to join ‘em again?”

“…Well— Actually, you won’t have much of a say in the matter. They’re planning on wiping your memories. It’ll be like your little runaway incident never happened. You won’t remember the experiments either, of course. None of those silly traumatic things.”

Shit.

“Until then, I’m supposed to keep you hooked up to an IV containing a drug I’ve developed. Just something to keep your mind in more of an agreeable state. You won’t lose your ability to think, of course, you’ll just… Struggle with comprehending those thoughts. I like to say it’s like water slipping through cracks— Nicer imagery leads to a much less stressful experience.” Vian smiled cheerfully, giving Koi a little pat on the head.

He felt sick. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. “—Wait, wait, wait. Can’t we talk this out? I mean— You don’t really want me to lose my memory, right?— What about— What about my friends? My life?”

At that, the doctor chuckled. “Koi, we should really move on with the examination. I have a job to do… Maybe if you’re good, we can talk a little more about your options afterwards.”

Despite the bile in his throat, Koi nodded. Maybe there was a chance that the doctor would take pity on him. He just had to get through this.

Vian lifted up the thin sleeve of his hospital gown, staring down his arm while he fixed a cuff on his shoulder.

“…Now, I know we didn’t give those to you.”

“What?”

“Those scars.” Vian traced a cold finger along one of the countless cuts lined over the withered skin. “Those are new. Lined up so poorly as well. Goodness, you really haven’t been doing well for yourself, have you?”

Koi shot him a small glare that quickly faded into something a little more pitiful. He had to remember what was at risk if he fucked this up.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Apparently having a guilty conscience has consequences.”

The doctor’s eyes flickered with mild amusement. It was an unsettling look on him.

“We both know that’s not what this is.”

“Didn’t you say you had a job to do?”

The pressure on his arm began to increase, then released all at once. The cuff went off just as quickly as it had been strapped on. Vian stared at the readings for a brief moment, then looked back at his patient.

“And who are you to say that a wellness check wouldn’t be part of it? I won’t tell, I promise. Now, you were always good with needles. Are you alright if I draw some blood?”

Koi nodded hesitantly. It would be better not to argue with the only person who might be willing to lend a hand to him. He wasn’t that stupid. It’s not like he had many other options.

The needle sank into his skin, and he reflexively let go of the tension in his body. He could have sworn he saw Vian smile at that.

“Good. You’ve always so good with these things. I believe that’s most of what I needed— We’ll do a drug test too, just to be sure. You’d be surprised hearing all of the rumors some of the scouts have come up with about you. Meaningless gossip, really. They claim you’re some worthless street junkie now.” Vian hummed, brushing Koi’s bangs out of his face. “Then again, I wouldn’t be totally surprised. You’ve been hung out to dry. We can lose ourselves, sometimes.”

He couldn’t help but lean into the soft touch. If it weren’t for the backhanded conversation, he probably would have felt genuinely relaxed.

“Yeah, right. I’ve totally got the spare change to shell out for that.”

“Mhm... Like I said, meaningless gossip.”

He needed to break the silence in the air. He could practically feel Vian’s gaze on him. Cold and scrutinizing. “Well, uh, is that all you needed me for?”

“Oh— Yes, we should be done for now. You said you wanted to talk about your options, didn’t you? This would also be a decent time to ask me any extra questions.” The doctor snapped his eyes back to focus, a smile quickly reappearing on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good. Uh, so is there any way I can convince you to help me? I mean, I know we were never friends, but—“

“You’d like to be. I know.” He didn’t even let him finish. “You mentioned that once. It stuck with me for a while… I think I’d like that too. You’re one of the few people I can actually tolerate here.”

“So uh… You’re willing to get me outta here?”

Vian’s eyes narrowed, and his grin faltered. “…Well—“

“Well what?” He snapped.

“You don't really have options here, Koi. Let’s just think about this for a moment. I could let you go right now, send you on your way back home… And for what? For you to be miserable the rest of your life? To keep this up?” He gestured towards the lines across his arm. “You lived in a rotting shed. If anything, keeping you here is a favor.”

His blood ran cold.

“You can’t be fucking serious— Vian, please— I… I can’t stay here. They’re gonna make me hurt people. I can’t do that again.”

Vian’s sympathetic expression was looking faker by the minute. He ruffled his hair, earning him a desperate expression. “…Oh, yes you can. The war’s been over for quite some time. It’s not like you’d be used very often anyways. Don’t you want to feel like a hero again? Didn’t you like that?”

Koi began struggling against the metal bands holding him down to the table, desperately thrashing back and forth. “I— I won’t forgive you if you do this. You know that, right?! Didn’t you say you wanted to be friends?”

“I did. And I still mean it. You’ll soon find that you won’t remember any of this, and you’ll be more than happy to spend time with me.” He hummed. “Let’s be honest, sending you back would be plainly unethical! It’d go against my oath. You’d have a fresh start here… There’s really not a downside.”

“Stop— Please—“

“…I think it’s about time to hook you up to that IV. Thank you for your time, though. I can’t wait to get to know each other all over again.”

[selfship-shinigami]

your F/O would beat the shit out of your abuser, they would absolutely torment your abuser because no one hurts you and gets away with it , in your F/Os eyes your abuser deserves no peace

[essenceeater]

Erron black trying to court s/o headcanons? 🫡

Erron Black Courting HC's

I LITERALLY LOVE YOU FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS ERRON! I love him so much, cowboys are just AUGHHHH 😫😫😫 This is probably the fastest request I've written!

Character: Erron Black.

Triggers: Mentions of guns, lmk if I missed anything.

Requested: Yes

🔓 Requests are open at the moment🔓

Link to rules

🐎 Erron Black would maintain his mysterious aura but gradually reveal his softer side to his S/O. He might leave little gifts or hidden notes around to pique his S/O's curiosity. He leaves small, enigmatic notes with cryptic messages, encouraging the reader to solve them, leading to secret meetups.

🐎 Occasionally, he sends them rare desert flowers or unique trinkets as tokens of his affection.

🐎 Erron challenges you occasionally to a shooting competition in a secluded area, setting up targets in creative and challenging ways.

🐎 He'd provide shooting lessons, standing closely behind the reader to guide their aim, creating a romantic tension. He just wants to impress you with his sharp shooting skills

"Let me show you how it's done," Erron stands behind, guiding his S/O's arm, both focusing their vision on the target in front of them. "Now, squeeze the trigger gently."

🐎 An adventure might involve a surprise horseback ride to a hidden oasis, complete with a picnic he prepared. I know this is Erron we are talking about but he's gonna try his damn best to make you happy.

🐎In perilous situations, Erron would shield the reader, using his skills to ensure their safety. He'd be damned if something happened to you. He'd go to great lengths to ensure his S/O's safety, showing his commitment and care.

"I can't stand to see anyone threaten you. I'll always keep you safe, no matter what."

🐎 Erron's morally ambiguous nature might lead to inner conflicts, as he tries to balance his loyalty to Outworld with his feelings for his lover. He doesn't want to scare you away or think he'd hurt you, but he's not going to give up his outlaw life, just keep you away from the dangers.

🐎 During quiet nights by a campfire, he definitely would tell you stories, some goofy, some intense. He might gradually open up to you about his past and the reasons for his outlaw lifestyle, creating a bond of trust and intimacy.

🐎 YOU CAN'T TELL ME HE WOULDN'T TRY TO CHARM HIS S/O WHILE COURTING THEMMMMM!! HE SO WOULDDDD.

🐎 Expect lots of playful banter and teasing from Erron as he tries to charm you. His wit and humor would be part of his courtship strategy. HOWEVER THEY ARE ALL SUPER CHEESY AND FUNNY. I love him but I feel like he'd be saying some of the most goofy shit possible with someone he genuinely likes.

🐎He would tease the reader with witty one-liners, creating a playful yet flirtatious dynamic.

🐎 Banter between them would be a recurring theme, adding humor to their interactions.

"You might want to be careful, sweetheart. I've been known to steal hearts." Erron said as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him as the two of you watched the stars.

"Oh really?" S/O chuckles as they rest their head against his shoulder. Rolling their eyes at his cheesy attempt to charm.

🐎This man is an outlaw, he's unpredictable.

🐎 What does this lead to?

🐎He might surprise the reader with unexpected acts of kindness or show up when they least expect it, keeping them on their toes. All of a sudden he's appearing at their doorstep with a homemade dinner and flowers in hand.

🐎 Unexpected visits during storms, when the reader least expects it, would be Erron's way of expressing his affection.

"I brought dinner. Hope you like it."

"You can cook?"

"A little something I picked up over the years. Just for you."

🐎 Erron Black would likely be a fan of slow burn, gradually building a connection and chemistry with his S/O, making the eventual romance more rewarding from his courting.

"I reckon I want to savor every moment with you, darlin'. No rush."

Essenceeater © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, steal, repost ANY of my content.

[shcultureis3]

sh/3d culture is when you st@v3 yourself as a form of sh

.