#we need more owl nocturn

[corinnetheanime]

Did a quick painting of Nocturn vs Danny. This may or may not be a design idea I have for Nocturn’s true form in the comic. And…yeah, can’t tell too much.

So basically some concept art. Also getting familiar with more of Clip Studio Paint’s tools!!!

UPDATE: This is part 1 of 3. Pinned has the entire story of Nocturn vs Danny. :D

[corinnetheanime]

I am in love with this A A A A A A

Someone had the idea of owl-like Nocturne and I fell in love. Look at this bastard! Starry owl dream man! And yes, I was inspired by Stolas (Helluva Boss).

[rylee-b-crylee]

our society is too Diurnal, we need more Nocturnal society

I wake up when the world is going to sleep. though I feel alone in that stillness, I'm not alone in being Nocturnal. we should be able to go experience the world during Our Hours. we miss so much, or compromise our sleep schedule to experience Life. as it is now, there are barely places to exist publicly.

parks close at dark

community centers & libraries close in the evenings

most shops close before midnight

amusement areas (museums, zoos, aquariums, etc.) close early

right now the options I can think of for public spaces at night are basically:

bars/nightclubs (expectation to spend money; heavily alcohol-focused)

24 hr gyms (cost money)

very few 24 hr convience stores or pharmacies (good to get supplies; dependson location; not a space to spend time)

some theaters do have late showings (usually done by 2-3 am; cost money)

these spaces are good to have. at the same time, I want us to have more calm spaces: cafes, libraries, museums. places to Exist, without the expectation of spending money and/or drinking.

it feels Lonely

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XIV)

Chapter 14: Heartbreak

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Alright, buckle up! We’re up for a wild ride! We are reaching the heights of the angsty mess, from this chapter all the way to chapter 17. Is our girl going to be an asshole? Yes, I’m afraid she’s about to fuck up big time...

Apologies for all the damage that is about to be made in this chapter.

It’s also the first chapter I wrote for this fic! It all started with this mess…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 3450

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was 11pm, which was early for a night owl such as Andrew, but late for his friends. Neither Sam nor Daphne were nocturnal creatures, and so Andrew answered his phone in a hurry when Sam’s name appeared on the screen. Something had to be wrong. He suddenly wondered where he had put his car keys, in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

“Hello? Andy? It’s me. It’s Sam.”

“Yeah, I know, are you alright?” he asked with worry making his voice deeper than usual, pausing the tv-show he was watching, lounging on his comfortable sofa.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“It’s 11pm, is there something wrong? Is Daphne okay?”

“What? Oh, no! Don’t worry, we’re both fine!”

Andrew heaved a relieved sigh.

“God, don’t scare the shit out of me like that ever again…”

“Did I wake you? I thought you never went to sleep before dawn.”

“Vampires tend to do that indeed.”

“Whose blood did you drink this week?”

Andrew wanted to answer, but he heard Daphne pestering Sam about not having much time, and he merely frowned instead.

“Right… sorry, darling…” Sam mumbled through the phone. “Are you alone, Andy?”

“Erm… yes…?”

“Okay, erm… it’s… it’s about Y/N.”

Andrew sat straighter this time.

“Y/N? Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no… I mean… she’s fine, but…”

“For fuck’s sake, Sam! Spit it out! What’s going on?”

“Look I… I know that you said that I couldn’t tell Daphne about you and Y/N… but Y/N told her, so we’ve talked about you two together…”

Andrew rolled his eyes, lying back down, resting his head on the armrest of the couch.

“It’s alright, Sam… I knew you’d break it to her sooner or later anyway.”

“No, Andy… look… have you talked to Y/N lately?”

Andrew frowned.

“Erm… I don’t know… about… three days ago. Why?”

“I think you should talk to her.”

“Why? Sam, what is it?”

There was a short silence, while the couple exchanged a glance, no doubt.

“Daphne thinks she might take a terrible decision,” Sam answered.

“What kind of decision? What are you talking about?”

Andrew was growing annoyed at this game of riddles. If something was wrong, he ought to know what it was…

But even if he insisted some more, Sam refused to speak.

“Just… call her, and tell her you love her. Tell her to choose you.”

“’Choose’ me? What do you mean?”

“Just… do it tomorrow, will you?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Good… good…”

When he hung up, Andrew stared at the ceiling for a while.

Choose me?

Andrew didn’t need to call you the next day. You were the one to call, and ask him if he was free tonight. You didn’t offer an activity, like you usually would: a movie on Netflix, the cinema, a walk, going to the beach, eating together… There was little ambiguity to the reason behind your demand, and Andrew wasn’t sure whether he was flattered or vexed by it.

He warned you that he wanted to talk to you about something tonight though, and you agreed. You had something to ‘discuss’ with him too. His heart dropped as you spoke those words through the phone. It ought to be some kind of bad news. Or maybe not. Maybe he was reading too much into this, and you meant… to talk about the upcoming wedding, or your job, or… something else entirely. He wondered if you knew that he meant to tell you that he felt more for you than what he had let on.

He parked his car in front of your house, but didn’t climb out just yet. First, he ran through his speech one last time.

I know that you are not looking for a relationship at the moment. But I want more than just sex when it comes to you. To us. Our arrangement can’t go on like this. Again, I understand that you are not in a position now where you want to be in a relationship. And that’s okay. If you tell me that you could give us a chance, I will wait for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready, until your job is more stable and you’ve figured things out in your life. I’ll wait until you want a relationship with me. I have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond a casual fling. And that’s the reason why I’m asking you now to give me a chance. To give us a proper chance…

No l-word yet, you might freak out if he used it. But this speech seemed good enough. Short, to the point. He had written six versions of it this morning.

He took a deep breath, before finally climbing out of his car and walking up to your house.

You were quick to unlock your door and welcome him in. You looked lovely tonight. But then, you were always beautiful…

You went through some meaningless chit-chat while Andrew took off his coat and shoes and followed you down the hall to your kitchen.

You offered him tea without asking if he wanted one. It was late afternoon, but not quite dinner time yet. He could have used some alcohol, but it would have been impolite to ask for some, so he thanked you when you handed him his favourite mug with two teabags plunged in warm water. He leaned against your kitchen counter, his back to your tiny window and your sink while you were facing him, a couple of steps away.

“You… you wanted us to talk about something,” Andrew reminded you, taking a sip of the warm beverage. “And I wanted to talk to you too, so… who should start?”

You were growing nervous, the signs were obvious. In your modern kitchen, there was a window above the sink that let in some golden light. The photons embraced your form, in a way that made Andrew’s heart skip a few beats.

You pushed back some hair behind your ear, pulled on the sleeves of your jumper. Andrew frowned at the sight.

“You’re alright? I can start…”

“No, I… I reckon I should start.”

“Okay.”

He was nervous beyond reason and measure. Andrew dried his clammy palms on his jeans, tried to breathe deeply through his nose, but his heart kept on pounding and his stomach was turning into knots…

You stared at each other for a moment, him expectant and you hesitant. He raised an eyebrow as a silent encouragement for you to speak, but you merely bit on your lower lip.

But then you heaved a sigh, crossed the distance between your bodies in a hurry. Andrew barely had time to blink, and you had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to you while you rose to your tiptoes so you could slam your lips to his. But kissing you was a habit by now, and a delicious one too. Andrew’s body was reacting on instinct as he kissed you back, messy and passionate and breathtaking. Your teeth bumped into his in your passion, but he didn’t mind. It was easy to deepen the kiss instead, cradle your face in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, always closer.

You were making his brain short-circuit, despite the important talk he wanted to have with you. You were everywhere, blurring his senses, making all traces of reason disappear…

Only when he felt your fingers travel down his chest and towards his belt did he stop you, pulling away.

“Wait, wait… stop…”

You immediately took a step back, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah… yeah… I… look, we… We wanted to talk, like… I think we should, erm, talk before we…”

“Or we can have sex, and talk after that.”

“Is that wise?”

“Do we really need to be wise?”

It was tempting. Too tempting to resist. God, he couldn’t think about anything else but your lips, how inviting they looked, how he wanted to kiss your neck too, he could feel his fingers tickle at the thought of touching all these places of your body, entire landscapes of bare skin…

He blinked a couple of times, struggled to swallow, trying to calm down. But blood was pulsing in his ears, and when he tried to remember his carefully-crafted speech, he couldn’t remember a word…

Fuck all of this…

“Alright,” he nodded. “But we talk tonight… cause it’s important…”

“Deal. Deal. Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes… God, yes, please… please, kiss me…”

You were back in his arms in a second, hands in his hair at first, while his travelled along your frame, from chest to hips and arse, feeling your shape through your clothes. You detached your lips from his to take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.

“We should get dressed to talk,” Andrew proposed, his breathing finally settling back into a regular rhythm.

He threw his condom away in the tiny bean next to the door of your bathroom. He grabbed his underwear as he walked back to your bed and handed you your large jumper.

“You’re too beautiful not to be distracting,” he chuckled, only half-joking, while you put on the piece of garment he was giving you.

He noticed how you looked away, how you seemed uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Instead of joining you in bed once more, Andrew sat down on the edge of the mattress, right next to you.

“So… who should begin?” he asked, voice soft and a little timid. “I… like… actually, I think I should…”

“Andy, I… I think you should get dressed.”

He frowned at that remark, or rather… he frowned at the tone you used. Cold and distant, whispered, and your eyes were still fleeing his.

“Why? Am I distracting too?” he asked with a charming smile, forcing a chuckle out. But you didn’t laugh, merely brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Andrew’s nervous smile soon crumbled.

“Right,” he let out in a breath, blushing hard now, heart racing.

He grabbed his undershirt, slowly put it on while trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“Look, I… We should talk about… this arrangement of ours…” he started, but you interrupted him, blurting out words he wasn’t expecting so fast he second-guessed if he had heard you right.

“We need to stop sleeping together.”

He was half-bent to grab his pants when you spoke. He froze, looking up at you, cursing at his long hair when it fell before his eyes and hid you away. He stood back up in a jolt.

“What?”

“We… we need to stop this arrangement. Things have changed.”

And all of a sudden there was hope again, brighter than a sun and blinding every bit of reason in him… And he fell for it. No matter the odds, he fell for it, flew straight to it like a moth ready to be burned at the pyre of your flames…

“Right… things have changed for me too. So, actually, I do think that we need to change things between us…”

“I have a date next week.”

He froze again. Stared at you, too stunned to say a thing, too stunned to protest or ask any question or even comprehend what you were saying.

“I… I have a date with a coworker, Maggie. Next week. So… we should stop this… We said we would if we wanted to try something with someone else…”

A date? Next week? Maggie?

You… you wanted to date again… just… not him…

“But… we’ve just had sex,” breathed Andrew.

It sounded stupid and he knew it, and yet these were the only words he could summon now. The first that came to mind, the only protest he could find.

There were too many emotions all at once. It felt… like falling… falling forever… like the ground being stolen from under his feet. He had no air left in his lungs, and he had forgotten how to breathe.

“Yeah… it wasn’t planned. But I… I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…”

His lip trembled, but his cheeks were still dry.

You were regretting him now?

“I think I just… wanted one last moment with you. Before we’d stop and I would date someone else.”

“So… you… you have a date?”

“Yes, I have a date with Maggie.”

“What do you mean, you have a date with Maggie? Who the fuck is Maggie?”

Andrew stared at you as he was about to cry, and he couldn’t help it. He blinked tears away, but they lingered at the edges of his eyes, ready to fall at your words.

“She’s nice. She works at HR, she’s a secretary. She asked me out, and… I don’t know, I said yes. So… I think we should stop this arrangement.”

“Oh…”

At long last, the information was being recorded in his brain. Andrew shook himself back to earth, turned around, fleeing you and your beautiful eyes, hurrying to put his trousers back on. He almost fell in the process, already looking for his shirt. He felt so exposed like this, so vulnerable, so flawed…

You were going on a date… with someone else… because you didn’t want to date him… he was the fucking problem. He was all along…

“I just… it was… good.”

He nodded, but didn’t let out a sound.

He couldn’t look at you. He would start crying if he did. He needed to run away as fast as he could…

“And she’s nice, you know? And… just… easy. Not like, easy to sleep with, but…”

“I understand.”

Of course, he did. Same argument all over again. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he?

But what if he dropped everything? What if he stopped touring? Stopped the whole music thing?

He thought about what you looked like right now, perfect and dishevelled and still gently glowing after the efforts of love-making. Absolutely perfect. Yeah… yeah… You deserved better than him, no matter the touring or the staying…

“Andy… are you angry?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t start acknowledging his feelings now. He would start crying if he did.

Where the fuck was his sock?

“I loved the nights we had together,” you went on, apparently unaware of the daggers each of your words planted through his heart, and for the first time in the long years the two of you had known each other, he wanted to stop hearing your voice.

You seemed to need to fill up the silence that Andrew was trying to maintain. Perhaps it was a way to reach out, perhaps it was a way to keep him at bay. He wasn’t certain about that.

“It was nice.”

Where was that fucking sock?!

“Andy?”

He put on his jumper, abandoning the thought of his black sock. He couldn’t lose any more time, he couldn’t breathe properly anymore…

“You’re okay? Can you say something?”

Silence. Only the rubbing of fabric against fabric as Andrew was getting ready to leave. He only had to grab his shoes and jacket in your hallway.

“Andy, wait!”

But he was already outside of your bedroom.

“You can’t be mad at me! We agreed about this, Andy! We agreed that… that… this was nothing but sex! It didn’t mean anything.”

He was blinded by tears when he reached for your doorknob, unlocking the door without seeing the keys he was turning in the lock.

“Andy! Where are you going? Stop! We need to talk about this!”

He shrugged you off when you reached for him.

“Andy!”

But then he was shutting the door behind him, his movement so harsh it shook the doorframe. He hurried to his car while he dried his eyes, refusing to crumble now, in the alley leading to your house.

He drove blindly, unaware of a destination, of a will behind the turns he took and the roads he chose. The words kept ringing in his ears, he couldn’t shut them out, they played on repeat in his busy mind…

This was nothing but sex.

It didn’t mean anything.

Did it not? The way you touched him, the way you kissed him, the way you held him… did it not mean something?!

His hold tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched until it was painful, until he could hear it.

Nothing. The tenderness in your touch, the fondness in your gaze, the sighs on your lips. The way you held him after it was done, like you needed him to land again gently on the ground, like you held onto a dream before it faded. How you stared into his soul when you connected in the most intimate way possible. How you laughed together until none of you could breathe, how you talked for hours about the most meaningless things and the most intimate parts of your lives. How you let him be yours, how you almost let yourself be his…

Only an almost…

He parked the car before a house he had always called home, and it was only then that he realised where he was. He stared at the familiar door of his parents’ house, the curtains behind the windows, the light that came through them.

So, you had let him love you, and it meant nothing at all?

He turned off the engines, stared at the house for a suspended moment. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly face you again after this. He was about to lose you for good; because after having a taste of what loving you felt like, he couldn’t go back to being a mere friend. No… no, he wasn’t strong enough for that. For seeing you happy with someone else, knowing that you held him close for a moment only to let him go, because he wasn’t enough.

He picked up his phone, ready to do something stupid, something he would regret the second his thumb would press send. He typed the text under your name.

If I gave up on touring, if I stayed home… would you give me a chance? Would I be enough if I weren’t just a ghost?

He heaved a sigh, resting his head against his seat, head tilted upwards in his exhale. He blinked tears away, staring at the dark ceiling of his car.

Did you really feel nothing now? Did it not hurt at all for you? Not even a little bit? Not at all?

Andrew didn’t press send. He deleted the text, opened the door, climbed out of the car and into the street bathed in an inky darkness and orange streetlights. His feet guided him to the safest place on Earth while he tugged his phone into his pocket. His right foot was hurting in his shoe without a sock on. He didn’t even notice.

It took his mother a moment to open the door, nothing surprising at this hour. She saw him through the glass of the backdoor, and her eyes grew round. Andrew finally noticed he was crying.

The door opened in a hurry, bumping into Raine’s foot in the process.

“Andy? Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His lower lip trembled as he stared at his mother, hands digging further into his pockets, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His throat was too tight to speak.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes a little as she guessed, aiming straight for his heart.

“Is it Y/N?”

He opened his mouth to answer but all that he could let out was a sob. His legs were shaking, he could feel all of his strength leaving his body. He barely registered his own moevements as he bent into his mother’s arms, folding around her frame.

“Oh, Andy… here, it’s alright. It’s gonna be okay, darling. It’s okay. I’m here, I’m here…”

She rubbed his back, in this soothing movement that had never failed to appease him ever since he was a child. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he let out the most painful words he had ever pronounced.

“She doesn’t love me, mom. She doesn’t feel anything… What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do without her?”

She let him cry for a moment longer, his father calling from the living room to know who was at the door. Raine merely answered with her son’s name, and gently pushed him upwards so he would stand straighter again.

“Well, for a start, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, with a lot of honey. And then, we’ll figure out the rest.”

[councilofcastamere]

DANGEROUSLY YOURS | AEMOND T. X READER

"An eternity without me. You will look into the faces of passers-by that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlit nights strangely empty, because, when you call my name through them, there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me, and your mind will give you the doubtful consolation that you did, a brave thing."

Cesar Romero as Victor Morell - Dangerously Yours (1937)

CREDITS FOR THE AEMOND PICTURE TO ultravi0l3t on Pinterest!

You were foolish. Foolishly in love.

The moonlit lit up, and the hour of the owl drew closer and closer. And yet, no sign of your little brother Lucerys. With each breath you drew, your heart stilled more and more.

You just knew it was him. You knew Aemond would. You had always known he'd wait for the right day to strike. The tears streaming down your eyes could've drowned you for all you care, but you wished for everything you had to bring Lucerys back.

And the one thing worse than that was the trust you put in him. You blinded yourself by love and drowned yourself in trust, all for him. All for the one-eyed prince you grew to both love and loathe.

You loathed yourself. You felt as if the world could have swallowed you up and no one would blink an eye. You had hoped for one day where you could look back at it and laugh, but at what point in your life could you ever let this go? A tragedy at your hands. You had not even attempted to stop him from departing to the stormlands.

Before you could bite back another sob, one feet stepped forward, and so did the other. Repeating the process before you could even register you were in front of the prince's chambers.

You didn't know what you would do first. Would you strike him, or would you cry into his shoulders? You wished for the former one, prayed to the Seven that you would be strong enough to shun him as he shunned your concerns.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the door opened just enough for his face to peek out. His hair was hastily brushed, as if he wanted you to see him in a different light. As if you ever could.

"Let me in." you simply uttered, not sure if you were speaking about his chambers. "Let me enter."

His eye scanned over you, over your purple nightdress and your hair undone. Even in the nocturnal hours, you looked as majestic as ever.

Your brown curls, so reminiscent of your father.

But he couldn't care less about your father, no.

Not your brothers. Not your mother. No. You.

And right now, he wasn't sure if he could face your tragedy-stricken self. He felt validated in the slaughter he committed, but your words could've alone made him repent for forgiveness.

He contemplated a few seconds, before ultimately opening the door wide. The room was neat, with the exception of his books sprawled out on his bed and table. You had never seen it before.

"Where is Lucerys?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking as your hands clenched at the side of your dress. "He hasn't come home. Mother won't tell me anything. She's still in Dragonstone, and I am here. I have been here for years, waiting to marry you."

His gaze was prideful, yet you weren't able to see his heart ache at your own grief. Whatever you felt, he felt. His feelings were dangerously yours, and yours were his.

"Stormlands." he answered, turning away as to not feel too much. "At least, if the sea hasn't swept him somewhere else."

Your head whipped up, and you swear you could feel your neck cracking if the rage hadn't consumed you.

"We both know he isn't in the ocean." you spat, the tears streaming down again. "What have you done, Aem-"

Aemond couldn't have it. He knew your last word.

'Aemond' instead of 'Aemy. He hated that you felt the need to use his full name. You had never used his full name, and you were not about to start now of all times.

His rugged yet soft lips were felt on yours, interrupting your words. The feelings in you dissipated, and you wanted to feel angry again.

How you wished to feel anger, sadness, anything.

But how could you when love overpowered it all for him. Only for him, by him. You loathed yourself for it.

"Get yourself dressed." he murmured against your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. his nails gently scraped against your delicate skin.

"We'll be wedded by the end of this night. You and I. No one else."

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Let's do the OG cat. Do you think Meowth would be a good pet?

Yes, a meowth would indeed make a good pet! In fact, we finally have another member of the “pretty much just a cat” cat-agory. If you are the owner of a real-world cat, or are a cat person in general, chances are you would have no problem welcoming a little meowth into your life. Just make sure you have some spare change on hand, it’s the quickest way into one of these little guys’ hearts.

Meowths are the perfect size to be a house pet at just over a foot tall. You’d have no problem making space for them in most homes, and getting them around is a breeze. While they have some formidable claws, they are able to retract them (Ruby/Sapphire), so the risk of an accidental scratch from a meowth is about equal with a normal cat (experienced cat owners, interpret that info as you will).

Meowths are pretty easygoing pokémon with a long track-record of getting along with humans, especially those with generous, full pockets. Meowths can be fickle at times (Ultra Moon) and are often free-wandering spirits (Red/Blue). A responsible meowth owner needs to make sure that they don’t let their meowth menace the native bird and bug pokémon of their neighborhood, since these little hunters are avid explorers. Keeping a meowth happy is as simple as providing them with a steady supply of coins or coin-like offerings. Meowths have a natural love for round, shiny objects (Red/Blue, Yellow), and they are known to hoard (Silver) and play with them until they fall asleep (Gold). Make sure to provide your meowth with a safe spot to store their hoard!

While standard meowths get along with other pokémon species well enough — aside from rivals like murkrows (Moon) — keep in mind that they are known to not get along well with other regional variants, like Galarian meowths (Shield). Meowths will be most at-home with night-owls, as these pokémon are mostly nocturnal (Yellow).

Despite their sharp claws, meowths aren’t exceptionally dangerous. Most of their natural move set revolves around scratching enemies, which shouldn’t do much damage to a person beyond the superficial wounds that any standard house cat could inflict. Before I move on from the topic of meowths’ moves, I need to address the money-generating elephant in the room: Pay Day. This signature move is well known amongst pokémon trainers, because upon a hit the meowth scatters coins on the ground. There’s a common misconception that owning a meowth is essentially a get-rich-quick scheme due to this move, but don’t get it twisted: as far as we know, meowths can’t generate money out of thin air. It’s far more likely that these battling pokémon are using their secret collection to attack. Besides, if you’re looking to adopt a pet just to get money, your heart’s not really in the right place.

In all honesty, if you’re a cat person, you’re a meowth person. They’re essentially cats that walk on two feet. They’re clever (I’ve even heard rumors that they have the ability to learn to speak, though I’ve never seen it confirmed), curious, and cute, and the perfect pet for many owners.

[shytastemakerthing]

Welp, @fidenciocryptidcreechur , at long last... here it is! The long awaited Rook with a Winged!reader!!

A/N: The reader is noted to have the wings of an elf owl and smaller than Rook (as to how much is all up to you) but other than that, appearance is up to all of you! Enjoy!

As a man who is absolutely fascinated with anything that is not human (beast folk, fae, mer folk), as an avian beast folk, you certainly fall into that little category of someone who would just love to get to know, to see you more often, to see you in action, and take some pictures

There were a couple of problems though with this

Number one, you are predominately nocturnal, hardly seen throughout the day

Number two, you are one of the quietest of the avian species, that, paired with your smaller size, makes it absolutely perfect to get away at any time you need

There have been a number of instances when he has seen students shouting and running, only to have a blur swoop past him faster than he could comprehend, and he instantly knew that you were back to your antics

It was amusing to see how the non-humans of the school seem to have traits that correlate to their animal counterparts

Such as you and your attention to any shiny object within reach... and out of reach

What he wouldn't give to just have a mere second of your time! To see your wings up close! Just how soft are they? How do they shine in both the light of the sun and moon?

No matter how hard he tried, this very skillful hunter found himself at a crossroads in trying to catch even a glimpse of you, the elusive thing that you are

It wasn't until one night, when he had returned to his dorm room after a night stalk of the halls (that cozy card now lives rent free in my head, the jerk affectionate) when he returned to his room and froze at the sight of someone hunched over his desk, perched on top of his chair and seemingly quite interested in the hair clips he keeps in their little box

The man didn't even breathe, knowing that the slightest movement would scare you away in an instant

He was right

Your wings look absolutely breathtaking in the moonlight, the natural hues of an elf owl certainly showing through

While not the fastest avian species, you certainly made up for it in your little tricks in getting away from who you seem to be predators, or just other pesky students

Seeming to finally notice his presence, at last, (he likes to think that you knew he was there the whole time, after all, elf owls have a very keen sense of hearing, more so than many of the beast folk on campus),you head fully turned to look at him

Which only intrigued him that much more. So you can fully twist your neck like that of an owl? Oh he wonders how well your sight must be then, and a number of other things

From that moment on, Rook would often hear little scratches or find little trinkets on his daily journeys, all left for him

His current favorite is a little owl charm that he attaches to his phone case, it is rather charming

But the moment that his heart all but stops? Shot by cupid's arrow?

That was the moment that he made his way through the forests of Pomefiore, turning for a brief moment the moment he heard movement behind him, seeing nothing, then turning back and there you are hanging upside down from a branch, noses almost touching

If that wasn't enough, when you held your hand out, and in it, you held one of your very own feathers, one of rather good length, nearly the size of the one on his hat, he was stunned into silence when you beckoned him to take it, which he finally did (his hand even trembled in the process)

And then you smiled at him..... and you were gone

From that moment on, your feather now replaced the one that was on his hat, and the absolute care that he took of it was a bit intense if we are being honest here

From that moment on, he would find a feather here and there, but all left in a place that he knew that you meant for him to have it

Gym locker, his seat within Pomefiore, his room (in a number of places, personal favorite being on his pillow)

Ones that were stronger and sturdier, were placed onto his arrows with such great care. He makes sure never to lose those arrows, and thus loosing your precious feathers

Now, what is it that he should give to you in return? There are a number of things that come to his mind, but there is one that stands above all else

He would give you his heart

Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day/night!

[wannabespacesmuggler]

CURSED ➵ J. WICK [1]

Part One | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

"WE ARE CURSED, YOU AND I."

Summary: You are no stranger to loss. Grief is an old friend - a feeling that's settled deep within your bones. Maybe that's why you're the first person John Wick seeks out after Iosef Tarasov steals his car and kills his dog. Or maybe it's because you're the only person he can trust after finding himself thrust back into a world cursed by betrayal and violence.

Pairing: John Wick x Female!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, angst, no use of y/n, use of nicknames

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: I know, I know. You're finally updating Shane's Girl and now you're posting a whole other story? I was feeling inspired after rewatching the John Wick franchise and wanted to write for my favorite boy. Let me know what you guys think and let me know if you want to be tagged in any future chapters.

You’re up earlier than usual this morning. With a cup of coffee in one hand and your journal in the other, you wander down to the empty bar beneath your apartment. You stifle a yawn as you slide onto one of the bar stools in the dimly lit establishment. You’ve always been more of a night owl than an early bird — you suppose it comes with the territory. You’ve been bartending since you were allowed to serve liquor — since Marcus set you up with a cushy job at The Continental. It wasn’t a bad gig. Free room and board, interesting clientele, and adequate pay. It was a decent job for a twenty-something-year-old kid with no other prospects because of their family’s lineage. After all, you and Marcus were groomed for this life since you were both old enough to walk. 

But you’re not that twenty-something-year-old kid anymore. And it’s been a long time since you’ve been employed by The Continental. Winston had been less than excited to depart with one of his tenured bartenders; however, he understood the premise of wanting something you could consider yours. 

So you made something. 

You’ve been the sole owner of The Nocturne for nearly ten years now. And with your ties to The Continental and your family’s standing with The High Table, you made this place sacred ground. No work shall be done on the ground of The Nocturne. Some of the other rules are a bit laxer within the confines of the small bar: you’re allowed to talk shop, and all current bounties are posted on a large chalkboard behind the counter. You wanted to create a more casual place for your clientele to relax while remaining in the loop regarding the happenings of the High Table’s underworld. After all, when you weren’t working at The Nocturne, you made a few coins on the side as an informant. 

As you review your books, ensuring all the numbers are correct for the month’s end, your phone vibrates against the counter. You suck in a tight breath as you read the message on your lock screen.

Marcus:

We need to talk. Join me for coffee. 

You’ve been avoiding Marcus for days — since he asked you to accompany him to the funeral of John’s late wife. You declined his invitation, but Marcus insisted. He claimed that you both owe it to John. But you couldn’t. Not after all these years. You promised yourself: no more funerals. It’s a difficult vow to honor when one lives under the High Table, but you can’t do that to yourself again — you can’t bear the thought of losing anyone else. And though you never personally knew Helen, attending her funeral felt like a betrayal of that promise. Marcus doesn’t understand, not truly — but John does. Your absence wouldn’t be seen as a dismissal of your friendship. You both know your presence wouldn’t benefit either of you. After all, John Wick is searching for peace, and you haven’t known the meaning of that word for quite some time. 

Still, you find yourself standing outside Marcus’s townhome an hour later. He opens the door slightly, and you’re delighted by the rush of warm air that escapes his abode. You wrapped yourself in a wool peacoat before trekking to Marcus’s, but the brisk, late-autumn breeze chills you to the bone.

“Good morning, Schwesterlein.”

Marcus kisses your cheek as he ushers you inside his home. The term of endearment brings a smile to your face. Marcus has called you that since the day you were born while he was studying under the German tutor your parents forced him to have. Your parents died while you were still young, but even when they were around, work often kept them busy. Although you’re fifteen years younger than him, it’s always been just you and Marcus.

He whisks you into the kitchen, where a fresh cup of coffee is waiting for you. Two sugars, hold the cream just the way you like it. You take a seat at the small kitchen table — Marcus knows that you prefer this quaint setup to the formal dining room. 

“You said we need to talk?”

Marcus takes a long sip of his coffee before speaking. 

“Viggo visited me this morning.”

Your body freezes. It’s been a long time since either of you worked with Viggo Tarasov — seven years, to be exact. You’ve never worked directly with Viggo; however, you were a key informant in most of the jobs that Marcus and John took from the Tarasov family. You know more about that family than you do your own at this point, which is why Viggo’s sudden reappearance in your lives worries you.

“What for?”

“A contract.”

Your brow furrows at his response. Contracts are rarely made face-to-face. Viggo’s methods confuse you, but the look on Marcus’s face is what makes you concerned. His usual poised features have warped into something bone-weary and tiresome. You’re almost afraid to ask your next question — like some part of you already knows where this is going.

“Who’s your target?”

“John.”

Your blood runs cold. That’s impossible. John’s retired — been out of the game for five years now. But then again, you’ve heard whispers in The Nocturne of a threat on Iosef Tarasov’s life. So, if John is targeting the heir to the Tarasov throne, then the contract makes sense. But he finished Viggo’s impossible task and bought his freedom, so what qualms could John Wick have with the Tarasov family that are worth coming back into the fray for?

“John’s retired.”

“Not after Iosef stole his car and killed his dog.”

So, the rumors are true. 

“You declined the contract, right?”

Marcus’s prolonged silence answers your question. The realization hits you like a freight train, and you suddenly feel pulled in two directions: to honor your familial ties to Marcus or maintain the loyalty you’ve established over the years with John. You let out an exasperated sigh before finishing your coffee and standing from your chair. As you grab your wool jacket from the back of your seat, you turn your attention back to Marcus.

“I’m not helping you put John in an early grave.”

Marcus looks up at you, lips curled up in a knowing smile. He knows you. You aren’t cut out of this world — not like he is. That’s why he begged Winston to take you in as part of the Continental’s staff all those years ago. You’re clever, driven, and self-sufficient with a weapon; however, your heart’s too big for a world so cutthroat. Life under the High Table is treacherous, and your compassion would get you killed. That’s why he prefers you behind the bar and in the shadows — he’ll do the dirty work to keep your hands clean. 

“I know, Schwesterlein.”

You nod at his admission before heading toward the front door. Unlike on your walk here, you’re looking forward to the bitter cold. The air within Marcus’s townhome is suddenly too warm and stuffy for your liking — it feels suffocating. Marcus follows you to the door. You hear his delicate footsteps behind you. He’s always been light on his feet, like an alley cat. It’s what makes him so good — so deadly — at his job.

“I know it’s just a contract to you, Marcus. But just think about it again, for me.”

Marcus nods at your request, and you return to your apartment. The journey back feels twice as long. Your mind is reeling sd you try to process the information Marcus provided. The details he relayed were strategic — giving you a little insight without pulling you in entirely. Marcus doesn’t want you digging further into this. He’s trying to protect you from the Tarasov family — you both know what happens to those who go up against them. But you’re tired of Marcus deciding which jobs are suitable for you. And this isn’t just any contract — this is John.

As you approach the bar, you pull out your keys and shove them into the deadbolt. Your brow furrows as you realize the front door is already unlocked. You always lock the door. Your hand instinctively rests on the pistol strapped to your side, hidden under your wool jacket. Slowly, you open the door to the bar and scan the dimly lit interior. Your eyes land on a dark figure sitting at the bar, back facing you. The man raises an arm, which springs you into action. You pull the pistol from its holster and aim it at the shadow, but then the man rests his arm back on the counter. He’s drinking something. 

“Bar’s closed, and you don’t want to start trouble here.”

“It’s been a long time, Sherry.”

The voice cuts through the air like a knife, and your body relaxes at the familiarity of its gruffness. You lower the pistol. It’s been a long time since anyone has called you that — five years exactly. A simple nickname given after many nights out drinking until the sun came back up. You know the order like the back of your hand: a Blanton’s Bourbon neat for him and a Sherry and Tonic on the rocks for you.

“John?”

The figure turns then, and your breath catches in your chest as you look into the eyes of John Wick. A ghost of a smile dances across his features as he meets your gaze. He looks good— all things considered. He’s clad in a tailored black suit and his nicest dress shoes. His dark hair is longer than the last time you saw him and is slicked back away from his face. A handful of cuts on his face and the beard he’s grown out accentuate his sharp features. Five years may have passed, but the man standing before you is still John. Your John. 

“I need your help.”

And suddenly, it’s like no time has passed at all.

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (6) Rodrick Heffley x FTM! Reader

Summary: You fulfill your promise to Daniel, but Rodrick insists on coming along.

Warning: Talk of knives

Word Count: 1.1K

-

Crickets hummed a tune as you turned your headlight on, gripping your camera as if a bear would rip it from your hands at any moment. Daniel leaned against the hood of your car, flipping through pages in his binder, exchanging a few words with Rodrick. They were cautiously neutral, you noticed, despite Rodrick’s typical behavior. He was nosy and in Daniel’s personal space, trying to peer over his shoulder with a smug grin. You shined your light in his face, and he backed down with a hiss, “Are we gonna get started or just wait for the vandalism to come to us?”

“I’m pretty much ready, you?” Daniel responded.

You huffed, leaves crunching underfoot as you moved away from the car, “You already know my answer.”

“Dangerous, blah, blah, blah, squatters–”

“C’mon, don’t be a pussy,” Rodrick patted your back, pushing you onwards, “this is tame shit.”

“You wouldn’t know tame shit if it was right under your nose!”

Shaking your head, you kicked rocks off of the overgrown trail. The moon was high and the cool summer air kissed your cheeks with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. Fog whispered amongst the bushes, sticking close to the ground, swirling around your shoes. You could feel the warmth of the other two lights on the back of your neck, forcing you to adjust your collar in order to escape it. Owls stared down from their nocturnal perches; there was no privacy in the woods. 

You scanned each and every piece of bark you could find, even stooping to check fallen logs. There were plenty of grooves, but none were short of natural, and you were cut off by Daniel. He put his hand on your shoulder, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “So, I have an idea– hear me out.”

When you nodded, he continued, “We’ll get clearer pictures if we focus only on smoother trees. Like, beech and musclewood and… stuff.”

That’s all Daniel managed before a body pushed between the two of you, proud and arrogant. Daniel shot him a glare, but Rodrick returned it with just as much venom, “Muscles? Yeah, I got plenty of those!”

One look at his stick arms and you burst out laughing, “Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

“Do you even know what we’re talking about? Look around you.” You threw your arms outward, embracing the scenery, “Trees! Trees, trees, and more trees!”

Daniel noted, snickering as he watched Rodrick’s mouth twitch, “Wood. Vandalized wood that we need to find. Preferably before my ass gets frostbite.” 

“It’s not even that cold out,” Rodrick scoffed.

You backed away as they argued back and forth, their voices fading ever so slightly. Yeah, real tough decision from the guy who was insistent on caution, but what could you do? Honestly, it was your fault for bringing two clashing personalities. Now, none of you were getting work done which, as Daniel stated, you preferred to finish swiftly. Your leather jacket had gained at least a few more signs of wear and tear since you started, scraping against trees that were a little too close to the trail. The bark of a tree lit up, bleached pale by your headlight, without many grooves to make shadows. On its surface were two initials surrounded by a heart; K+A, carved for eternity. Or, at least until the tree grew its skin back. Which, according to Daniel, wouldn’t be for years. He wasn’t shy about rambling tree facts to you after the projects were announced.

Taking a step forward, you raised your camera. Snap! Brushing your fingers over it and peering at it closer, it seemed less… fresh than you had initially thought. Certainly not from some lovesick high schoolers that ran off for some private time. Carved with a serrated pocket knife, the letters were lopsided and jagged, but medium-sized. Looking over your shoulder, you called out, “Hey, I found something!”

The two boys snapped out of their quarrel, with Daniel fumbling to get his camera out of his pocket. You grinned, tracing the letters with your thumb, pointing out the obvious, “See? It’s not hopeless.”

“Sure, but I need a few more or I’ll lose ten points for lack of visuals,” he sighed, snapping his own picture. 

“Couldn’t you just fill it in with graphs or some crap?”

Daniel shrugged, “Not according to the rubric. If there’s something here, then chances are there’s bound to be another one up ahead, right?”

“Worth a shot.”

You pushed Rodrick ahead, keeping yourself to the back of the line and flipping through the camera roll. It was mostly just Daniel with his family, or flowers, or– okay, he looked super nerdy there– his first day at work. Glancing up to compare the awkward dude in front of you to the acne-prone fourteen year old in the photo, it was pretty believable. A branch smacked your shoulder and you jumped, glaring at Rodrick when you heard a snicker escape his mouth. What an asshole. 

Trees started getting more and more scarce, and soon, none were present. A small clearing emerged in front of your group, opening up to an idle road in the distance. You heard Daniel sigh and Rodrick grumble, so you glanced over their heads to witness what was probably the most annoying thing that night. Lines marked the packed dirt, a few benches beside them, and inside was a parked car that was too familiar for your liking. 

“So this was rad and all but,” Rodrick chuckled, “you two are shit navigators.”

Daniel scoffed, and you circled around to your car, “Like you’re any better.”

Rodrick mocked his mouth with his hands, “Chit-chat.”

His demeanor was cool, relaxed, and smug. Otherwise, Rodrick looked nothing short of a mess. Your eyes traced down his figure, landing on his legs, where a dark brown bruise made itself known. You squinted, “Uh, man, what’d you hit your left leg on?”

“Huh?” His shoulders stiffened as he looked at his right leg.

“My left.”

You watched in slow motion as his face changed; Rodrick’s lips parted to show tightly shut teeth, his eyebrows raised, and he jumped in the air. He shook his leg repeatedly, yanking on your jacket to keep himself balanced. The not-bruise got flung in the air, landing on your car and shuffling into the wheel, as you stumbled backward. Finally, Rodrick screeched, high-pitched and girly. 

Your ears were left ringing after, “Ow– dude, what the fuck? Get off!”

He didn’t, only gripping onto you with more strength. You could feel the fabric of your jacket straining against his fists, but before you could say anything more, Daniel interrupted, “Wow, I didn’t know Rodrick was scared of spiders.”

“I am not!”

You tugged him off by his own shirt, opening the car door, “C’mon, guys. Let’s quit it for the night.”

-

[nothomegal]

“The little owl family” (Part 1)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond. Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: none, maybe mentions of murder(?).

Word Count: 2.7k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

Also apologies for any mistakes, English is not my first language ;u;

Well, with all that said, enjoy the fic! ^^

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

—“(Y/N)! (Y/N) look!”—

The voice of a little girl resonated behind the mentioned person, who was finishing putting on their shoes.

—“Mmh? What is it songbird?”— you curiously say as you walk towards your sister.

The little 6 y/o was enthusiastically pointing at the window.

—“Look! The owl family! They actually made a nest in the backyard!”— she exclaims excitedly, giving little jumps in her place as she speaks and points.

The older sibling looks through the window, focusing on the large tree they had in the backyard. And it’s true! Inside of a tree hollow was a barely noticiable owl head curiously peaking out, staring at the duo with it’s dark, almost pitch black, eyes.

—“It’s not just an owl, it’s a barn owl!”— you comment, glancing at your sister. —“Not sure if they’re going to find much food around here though… Maybe we could buy some meat later?”—

—“Oh, yes! We need to help the birdies!”—

—“Aight’ I’ll write it down in our 'to do' list. But now we gotta go or you’ll be late for school.”— you gently remind her.

—“Oww, but will I see the birdies later?”— she looks at you with a little frown.

—“Of corse! Maybe we could even stay up at night a bit longer since they are nocturnal animals.”—

—“Past bedtime?!”— she gasps a bit.

—“Yup, past bedtime.”— you nod with a chuckle. —“But only this time for tonight, and maybe ones in Halloween… And Christmas… And new year…”—

(S/N) lets out a childish laugh as she swings her arms around her sibling’s waist.

—“You are the best (Y/N)!”—

The mentioned person laughs a bit and crouches down to hug their sister properly.

—“I learned from the greatest. Now come on or your teacher is going to reprimand both of us.”—

The little girl pouts a bit but does as told, clearly not wanting to get scolded again by the old witch Rosemary.

. . .

After a couple of hours, (Y/N) had picked up their sibling from their school and were currently on their ride to the store, when suddenly…

—“(Y/N), who is ‘Michael Myers’?”— (S/N) innocently asks.

They almost choke whit their own saliva when they heard that name leaving their sister’s mouth, their body going a bit stiff.

—“Uh…”— you think about what to reply. —“Where did you hear that name?…”—

—“A classmate told me! She said the friend of their older brother was killed by Michael Myers!”— she replies, saying the last part in a more dramatic tone.

—“Uhuh…”— you hum thoughtfully.

—“So… Who is he?”—

—“Well…”— you pause for a moment. —“He was ones a boy that lived in Haddonfield, around 16 years ago, and then at Halloween he… He killed some people; his stepfather, his own sister and her boyfriend.”—

(S/N)’s eyes wide and her mouth slightly gapes.

—“Own sister?! How dared he?!”—

—“Yeah, but can’t blame him. His sister wasn’t a good person, in fact no one was really kind to him except his mother.”—

—“Oh…”— she pauses, trying to process the fact that not all siblings are as amazing as the one she has.

—“So yeah, that’s the story of Michael Myers, and his old house is now a source of spooky stories, claimed to be the ‘house of the Boogeyman’.”—

(Y/N) replied honestly, they rarely kept secrets from their sister and would often do their best to explain certain things, she will learn them anyways at some point so they rather to be the ones who explain it.

The little girl nods a bit, her gaze thoughtful.

—“Is his house like… Haunted?”—

—“Mmm… Nah, it’s just an old abandoned house. Sure, some teens may come in for kicks and giggles but that’s it”—

(S/N) nods again and then silently looks through the car window. Through the rear mirror (Y/N) could see the girl's expression, it was clear that she still has things to ask and wonder but chooses not to.

Eventually though, whatever was bugging the girl's mind becomes too much and she's forced to ask...

—"Can we go and see the house?..."—

(Y/N)'s grip on the steering wheel tightened, their body stiff again.

—"...Why?"— you simply ask.

The girl shrinks in her sit a bit, her expression a bit sheepish.

—"I... W-Well... While exiting the shcool I heard Terry say that his dad is going to demolish the Myers house in a few days, I got curious and... I just really want to see a real haunted house at least ones!"— she exclaims at the last part.

—"I just said it's not-"—

—"It looks haunted! Please! Pretty please (Y/N)!"— she begs. —"I promise I will look quick! Just a little peak and I won't ask you anything ever again!"—

—"Didn't you say the same yesterday when you wanted pizza for dinner?"— you ask in a teasing tone, subtly trying to change topic.

—"But now I'm super-duper serious! Please."—

The older sibling remains quiet, eyes gluet to the road yet their mind going completely coconuts. Part of them wanted their sister to know the truth, to know that just last year all grown up Michael Myers had escaped from the asylum he's been locked for so long, to know the people he killed, to know he kidnapped and nearly murdered his own young sister, to know that... His body is still to be found, despite originally being claimed as dead.

On the other hand, a more permisive part of them saw nothing wrong in making a quick visit. The old house is several blocks away from their neighborhood and police cars still patrolling the streets quite regulary, specially now durning October.

NO, their gut screams as they slouch on their sit a bit. This is probably a terrible idea! Did they forget all the horror movies and the ridiculously avoidable threats the main characters go through? Do they really want to get themselves in such mess?

But again, it's just a house... Some stupid old building that is barely standing.

And even though (Y/N) doesn't want to admit it... They too are kinda curious to see how the house looks after the last year events.

It's just a little peak.

Just a tiny glance that will last no longer that a minute or two.

Plus, they're god damn aware that if they don't accept (S/N) is going to give them a one hell of a time, and their nerves deserve some mercy.

With a sigh, (Y/N) corrects their position.

—"Just a small glance, okay?"—

At that, (S/N)'s face lights like a firework, her smile wide and bright.

—"Yes! Yes thank you so much (Y/N)! I promise I'll be super good from now on!"—

They simply hum with a smile, this is going to be a quick visit, just a minute and they'll be over it, going to the store to buy some groceries and maybe some new Halloween decorations, the holiday was still three weeks away but in Haddonfield, even after the Boogeyman's horrors, Halloween is still welcomed.

. . .

The car pulls and stops, at the opposite street from the old house.

Just like they imagined, neither time or the people of this town had mercy on the structure. The poor building looked even more vandalized and broken than before, still miraculously standing.

(Y/N) frowned, they’ve expected to feel the classic thrill, the unexplainable sense of danger that our primal instincts send to alert about any sketchy situation, yet… They’re feeling non of it, instead of irrational fear and dread they feel sadness, a melancholy so deep it consumes all other emotions, leaving a huge void in their chest.

The little girl stares at the house, frowning too, as if feeling the same deep sadness.

(Y/N) eventually stops the engine, making everything go silent.

It’s uncertain how long the duo was sitting like this, staring at the building and barely breathing. Eventually, a tiny voice breaks it.

—“Can we…”— she hesitates.

—“Want to look closer?”— you ask, unimpressed.

—“Y-Yeah…”— she shyly admits.

(Y/N) hesitates, not wanting to abandon the safety of the car. But again, what threats are out there?

With a sigh and a small nod, they unbuckle their belt as a silent 'okay'.

When out of the vehicle, the duo got a spine chill almost at the same time. The house looked even bigger, the old structure menacingly hovering over them, reminding how little they are.

But even then, even despite the house's menacing look...

The atmosphere remained melancholic, lonely.

—"The house looks so sad..."— your sister comments with a frown.

—"Indeed it does songbird... Indeed it does..."— you reply, having a frown as well.

—"Do you think the ghost of Michael Myers is looking at us?"— she asks innocently.

(Y/N) gives their sister a look.

—"(S/N), I said he was locked up, not that he died- "— you try to correct her.

—"He may have super powers! What if he can turn secretly into a ghost?!"— she exclaims, though more that scared she sounded excited about such possibility.

(Y/N) simply chucles at the girl's innocence and how quickly she could get out of track with her theories and imagination.

—"Yeah, maybe you're right. It's a cool super power though."— you comment, a bit more casually. —"But I think it's time for us to go sweetheart, remember we still have groceries to buy, as well some stuff for Halloween."—

(S/N) lets out a little gasp.

—"Oh my god you're right! Let's go let's go!- "—she grabs your hand ready to leave but abruptly stops. —"Wait!..."—

She suddenly starts to rummage in her school backpack, gaining a confused yet curious look from (Y/N). With a little 'aha!' she pulls out a drawing.

—"Okaaaay...? What are you planning young lady?"— you arch a brow.

—"It's a gift, I want to gift it to the house!"— she exclaims with a big smile.

—"...What?"— you look at her with confusion. —"You want to gift one of your drawings to an old house?"— your eyes narrow a bit when she nods.

—"Yeah! I mean... I don't like how sad the house looks, so gloomy and... Lonely. You always smile when I gift you a drawing, so I want to try it here!"—

(Y/N) remains silent, though a bit of warmth tickled in their chest at how innocent and sweet (S/N) is acting. They look towards the house, the path to the front door completely overgrown, the dry grass being as unwelcoming as possible, threatning to stick and pinch whoever is dumb enough to enter.

—"I will be fast! Just slide it through the mail slot and then we run back into the car!"—

Their eyes narrow even more.

—"You want to slide it inside?!"—

—"Yes! So the ghost can see and see what a cool artist I am, I even made it spooky!"—

(Y/N) finally takes a moment to glance at the drawing; it was an orange dinosaur, a spinosaurus to be more specific, that had an agry expression. What's the spooky part? The dinosaur is wearing a black witch hat with a red magic wand and a scarf. The drawing also had some things written, all of them spelled wrong of course, insead of saying 'Dinosaur! Happy Halloween!' it said 'Dienosore! Happee Hallowin!'.

(Y/N) couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle at the spelling, they definetely must start teaching their sister some grammar.

—"Alright... But we go together, okay? You slide that in there real quick and we're out."— you say, a bit more strictly.

—"Okay!... Well, maybe also this."— she takes out a little chocolate bar out of her pocket.

—"You want to also leave a treat for the ghost?"— you arch your brow again.

(S/N) simply giggles.

—"No silly, it's for the Boogeyman! So he eats this instead of my ankles."—

—"Didn't we agree that a ghost lives- "—

—"The Boogeyman is the ghost's dog!"—

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh as they roll their eyes, whatever lore (S/N) is having in her mind is getting progressively worse.

—"Okay okay, as you say. Let's hurry up, we don't want the store to get flooded and have all the best decorations sold."—

The little girl nods enthusiastically and takes their hand before they start walking.

(Y/N) is careful with their steps, making sure to not step on any thorn or stick that could potentially hurt their sister, (S/N) meanwhile was loyally following her sibling's footsteps, trusting them completely.

Ones they made their way to the front door, the odd sense of alarm starts to finally creep through (Y/N)'s back, like a bunch of bugs running under their skin in sheer panic, trying to escape and hide from whatever threat is looming in the air.

The older sibling takes a more protective pose, griping their sister's shoulder firmply and eyeing at every possible direction, looking for the sourse of that alarming feeling (S/N) was totally oblivious of.

The little girl, with a happy-go-lucky attitude slides the drawing and the candy through the mail slot like she said, and ones done turns toward (Y/N).

—"Done!"—

As soon as (S/N) said that, her small frame is yanked towards the fence, away from the sketchy building.

—"Good... Now let's go."— you say, your tone a bit more urgent.

(S/N) glances at them with a little frown, noticing the change in their attitude.

—"Are you scared, (Y/N)?"— she innocently asks.

The question made them stop in their tracks, they pause for a moment but eventually sigh.

—"A bit, maybe..."— you reply honestly.

The girl frowns more, but then her expression brightens as she wraps her arms around her sibling's waist.

—"Don't worry (Y/N)! If the Boogeyman dares to come for you I'm going to protect you!"—

Such statemant made them release a scoff.

—"You? A little garden gnome is going to safe the day?"— you tease.

—"Yes! If a monster tries to do something to you then I'll uh... I'll step on their big toe and slap their elbows! Yeah!"— she exclaims, determination shining in her eyes.

Though the childrish threat didn't soothe (Y/N)'s mind, it did lightened their mood a bit.

—"Step on toes, huh? Watch out sis, that's some very serious threats right there."—

—"I know! Bet I'll make the monster cry."— she grins mischievously.

—"You sure? You won't back away at the last second? Just like you did this summer when you tried to catch a gekko in our backyard."— you chuckle at her angry face.

—"The lizard was scary! I didn't know it could climb on walls!"— she childishly whines as she gives you a little punch in the arm. —"And stop laughing! It wasn't funny!"—

—"Didn't you hysterically laugh when you spooked me with that hideous horse mask on?"—

—"Thas was fuuny! The gekko running up walls wasn't!"—

The both siblings started to go back and forth with their little argument of what was or not funny, the argument at some point turned into a small playful fight that was anything but serious. At some point the duo lean against the car, loudly cackling and hugging each other for additional support.

Their roudy interaction didn't go unnoticed, appart from some disapproving glares from the local neighbors, a pair of dark eyes oberved them as well.

The icy blue eyes of the monster hiding in the darkest part of the house watched the duo since their arrival. At first, he was indifferent, just a pair of dummies coming to retell the same story over and over... But eventually, his opinion changed, their dynamic and behavoir was something unique to him.

The way that little girl wasn't afraid of the 'Boogeyman' living inside and how calm her sibling was towards her request to come closer was something he never seen before. Sure some teens would drag their young brothers and sisters towards his old house to give them a scare, terrify them with stories and how he is going to supposedly come and take them, but these two...

Something awakened inside of him, not just curiousity but also something bittersweet... If things had turned the way he wanted he may had the same relationship with boo... The same strong bond he always craved since childhood.

When the car eventually left the neighborhood, that odd awakened feeling vanished as well, making his chest feel empty and cold again...

He has no idea why or what is going on with him. Why some strangers affected him in a such personal level. All he knows is that now the emptiness is being slowly replaced with an unhinged desire...

Desire to find these two and observe them again...

[pixeldistractions]

warnings: adult activities and conversation, pictures should be Tumblr-safe (we’ll see…), spice level 3/5 🌶️🌶️🌶️ 😇

He promised she wouldn’t hate this, so sometimes that meant he carried four jugs of water to fill the tank so she could have a luxurious hot shower. She appreciated that, and she would take care of him in return. She massaged his tired muscles, kneading all that tension, the powerful shoulders and hard-working back, and turned him into putty. Then when he was melted to her satisfaction and dozing off to sleep—she wasn’t quite done with him yet—she traced the shapes of his tattoo, spanning shoulder or shoulder.

“Did it hurt?”

“Heh, yeah. It took forever.”

“Does it still?”

“Not anymore.”

“Wait, though, it’s a compass,” she said. “But what good is a compass that you can’t see?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t think of that. Maybe it’s not for me.”

“Who’s it for then?”

“You’re the only one who sees it, so I guess it’s for you.”

“Are you saying I’m lost?”

“No. Not anymore. You have a compass now.”

She could see the corners of his lips, grinning into the pillow.

“Hmm, that’s very suave, mister.”

“We’re gonna pretend I planned it that way.”

She tugged on his body until he rolled over, so she could straddle his front instead, then she leaned down to kiss him.

The close confines of their camper called for some romantic experimentation, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Jordan thrived on variety and the millions of ways and places he could cherish her body. He spoiled her with it. In the cab of the camper, window covers on, lean the seats way way back. A blanket under the stars, rolled up together into a frenzy. Save the moans for outside, though you might scare the wildlife. That could be fun, too. In the deep woods with only the nocturnal creatures as their witness. Don’t be shy of the owls and raccoons. They don’t care, they’re naked, too. A campfire crackling. Shirts kept on, or loosened, or scrunched up in a tangle. A wool blanket draped over her back and slowly falling off with each rock and sway. November brought a harsh chill to the nights, but they were always too hot together to ever feel the cold.

Or, just as often, inside, in their bed. So they devised some tricks, battery powered fans for noise, a makeshift wall made of pallet scrap, a haphazard door cut and fit from more scraps. It closed and locked; that was all that mattered. A carefully placed toy that would rattle when little feet crept out of bed. Keep it slow and rhythmic, so so sweet. Hush now, only whispers and sighs, muffled passions, bit lips, covered moans. Don’t rock the camper.

Another experiment, one that caused some mixed anxieties but was just as exciting, they’d been talking about skin to skin. Maria had been on her new birth control for a full cycle now. She was sure it was the right one this time. Double, triple checked.

“I want to feel you,” she said, “not a rubber bag.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, very sure,” she said, sliding herself over him, up and down and around him, just waiting for the go-ahead to push him deep inside.

“I’m just saying, the last time I did this, someone got knocked up with twins.”

“I won’t get pregnant. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Wow. Okay. Yes.”

And that was all she needed.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned.

“I’m gonna need you to last more than two minutes.”

He was already far beyond words, so she got straight to work. She moved herself on him purposefully, hitting all her right spots while keeping it slow and steady, watching his face melt with pleasure, slowing him down and trying her best to beat him to the finish line because this was going to be a race. She would win, but it might be close.

The camper rocked, for sure.

— “boxes and squares #5.1: live the fairytale” (7/10)

previously: Jordan is super careful and Maria is irresponsible

notes: this isn’t just frivolous smut, by the way. (Not that I would ever be above writing such a thing!) We are heading into some important character development in the next piece. Also not meant to be foreboding. She really did double-triple check her birth control this time! It’s like 99% effective or something…

Next -> // 5.1 start // index

[smuttyfang]

All Might, You Embarrass Yourself With Your Quirk

“"I'm big small might Simp but not an all might Simp (If I met him in his big form I'll most likely to feel uncomfortable or intimidated), and what makes some know that the reader likes him is cuz of an animal quirk? (cats with big pupil) and uncomfortable with all might (owls puffing up feather a bit not allot tho). I like the idea of the reader working in UA in someway. she mentally go to normal to BOOM! LOTS OF SEROTONIN! but tries her best to keep cool and not make a fool of herself (but kinda does) in front of small might no less I'm not sure if you take curtain quirk or hero costumes requests but I do like a loose hero custume for the reader (tight clothes makes me feel insecure tbh) and an a nocturnal animal quirk! If not thats ok 👌."

Words: 1,002

"This will be interesting!" You said, leaning over to your good friend, the hero Midnight.

"Oh yes, this one will be delicious." She said, seductively as usual. You stared at the large screen in front of you. You were both sitting with a few other staff members and students watching the first term final exam. Up next was Eraser's battle against Momo and Shoto. Shoto was always an interesting one during these battles. Before the match began, Midnight turned toward you. "So, have you given any more thought to it?"

"Well.." You had recently been introduced to some of the other teachers at U.A. by Midnight. At first it was simply as friends, but they all have really been pushing for you to be involved with the school, even becoming one of the teachers. "I have still been thinking about it. It's a big decision."

"I know, I know. But you could really help put these students in a good position." She giggled. "But seriously, I know your quirk would be useful for teaching them more silent but necessary skills. " She did have a point. Your quirk was useful for operations that required more delicate handling. Since you had the skills of an owl, and the wings, it was extremely easy for you to follow someone silently and stay quiet. You could turn your feet into owl like claws as well to hold yourself on branches and the sides of buildings. "You could also help students who have trouble with balance."

"Yes, I suppose that is true." You placed your fingers on your chin, humming to yourself and thinking. "Maybe, I'm just not sure that I.." You began to speak, but you heard the door to the room open and close. Before you realized it, All Might himself was standing right in front of you. He was wearing.. a suit? It didn't seem like he felt comfortable in it. He would awkwardly pull on his collar and try to pull it away from his neck. He looked at Midnight.

"Hey, Midnight. This a friend?" He gave you a very gentle smile. It felt like your heart jumped.

"Yes, she may be working here soon if I can finally convince her to." All Might sat down beside of you and held his hand out to you.

"We could use all the help we can get. It's nice to meet you then." You felt your wings lightly raise up and flutter, along with your heart. You shakily took his hand in yours and shook it. "Um.. Are you alright? Your wings are flapping." You realized you were creating somewhat of a breeze behind yourself because your wings kept flapping. Some papers flew about the room. You scrambled and tried to hold them down with your hands.

"I, uh.. yeah! That just happens sometimes! Hehe.." You were mortified. It felt like you were already making a complete fool of yourself in front of him.

"I see." He laughed. "You don't need to hide them, they're uh, nice." He rubbed the back of his head. You didn't expect that he would be a nervous type of person. Your wings fluttered even more hearing him say that to you, and you couldn't control them any longer after that. You blushed hard, pushing your face into Midnight's chest to hide. She giggled at you.

"So, did you change your mind about working here yet?" She asked you, slyly. Looking up at her still blushing madly, you whispered to her quietly.

"I definitely want to teach here." She giggled at you and grinned.

"Oh? Why the sudden change of heart, hmm?" She teased. She knew damn well what the reason was.

"Shut up." You pulled away from her, crossing your arms. You looked to All Might. His eyes were trained on the screen, watching the students. It was easy to see how much he cared for them. You tried to avoid staring, and continued with watching the match. Once that match had finished, All Might stood.

"I guess I should prepare for mine." He stretched his arms upward. "Would you like to walk with me?" You felt like screaming out loud you were so happy.

"Oh, absolutely!" You said excitedly. He held his hand out to you to help you up, like a true gentleman. "Thank you.." He really wasn't doing much of anything, but it was still making your heart race. You both began walking out of the room and down the hall together.

"So, you are going to teach then?" He asked.

"I believe so, yes." You nodded. "If I can have the patience, I will do my best."

"You will learn how to have it quickly and easily, I'm sure." He smiled at you. "Then I will be happy to see you in action."

"I definitely don't have anything flashy, but I think some of the things I know are quite practical." You rubbed the back of your neck. "I just hope I can teach, I've never done anything like this before."

"Maybe we could discuss teaching methods, I'm still fairly new to this whole teaching thing." He laughed. You both approached the door to exit and head outside. Steam started rolling off of his body.

"That would be nice, once I get started anyways." His body started to grow larger.

"Over coffee?" He asked, still with a normal and gentle voice.

"I would love that." His transformation was finished, and his appearance was now that of the #1 hero.

"Well, I'll see you soon, then!" He jumped off the ground, laughing loudly, headed toward the battlefield for his match with his students.

AO3

[pendragonloki]

Why did JK rowling use owls anyway?

I get why they're meant to be familiars and historical they are associated with witchcraft and magic yes that makes sense congrats rowling you read a book about witches and yes all the other animal opinions are also familiar animals

Yes rowling very clever you get to choose one of the historical familiars of witchcraft very cool but heres the thing...

...They're not familiars?...

Like at all like within the context if the books and movies what do they do that's similar to witchcraft familiars?

Ok so the owls are the only one with a purpose that is society wide yes they are messenger, the famously nocturnal and slow birds yes lets use them. And the only other pet that has a use is

The chipr frogs? Is this the equivalent of parents buying their kids art supplies?

But like this is a serious wasted pontenial for the pets to actually be familiars and be apart of magic and spellcraft but they're not in the slightest we see them be used once

We only see them involved in magic once where ron turned his rat into a cup

(Which is really weird what scenario would you need this? And also we dont talk enough about how this is actually a person? Like this spell works on people?)

But yeah whenever i bring up that rowling should have used literally any other bird for messengers someone brings up the familiars arguement but this doesn't hold any water to me. Like they just aren't maybe if rowling tied the wand cores to the familiars like owl feather cores, or rat tooth, frog wart and cats hair ball or something would have been cool or if the pets somehow helped the wizards control their magic. But otherwise it doesnt add up

Rowling really should've used crows and or ravens they both have magic association, and if she was a good author would have also connected them to the deathly hallows with death playing a major role in the story.

They are also infinity more trainable than owls who i remember the story from the production of the first movie them being horribly untrainable like each owl could only learn 1 trick each. Crows are highly intelligent and recognise human faces imagine your post man couldn't recognise your face

And then theres the hidden aspect of it. You're telling me the muggles arent recognising the random snow or barn owl flying near their house semi consistently? Atleast with crows/ravens would blend in with cities and then pigeons would make even more sense.

Pigeons are super caring, they dont bite, they have historically been messengers and they're ancient, theyre the first and only birds domesticated and rowling saw their rich history and said "nah"

Owls are silent flyers so makes sense for a secret society but you know what doesn't blend in? A giant owl, people dont even think when they see pigeons or corvids. Plus if she chose pigeons she could have written that they're navigation is magic and muggles dont understand it.

If you have to use animals as messengers

(They dont need animals they have flying paper aeroplanes and can make flying notes)

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, rowling missed out on much better animals

[skylandersamalgamation]

Skylanders Headcanon Lore Dump

A couple of days ago, I was asked to infodump by @felinefiestas about their favorite characters. And since it's all about my AU's version of them, I figured, I really need to use my Tumblr more than once a year, so here we go. Have them all.

NOTE: I wrote them all in a somewhat humorous nature. Should still be readable though.

Spyro

Real name: Spyro Agnew Drake.

Best friend of Gill Grunt and Trigger Happy. Keeps Trigger Happy sane…kind of. Keeps Gill Grunt from not getting too distracted with everything. Banned Trigger Happy from singing Britney Spears out loud and for very good reason.

Knows everybody's real name and will use it if he needs to. Usually serious but also affectionate.

Is the de-facto leader for all of the 3rd Age Skylanders from the Cores to the Giants to the Swappers, Trap Masters, SuperChargers and Senseis. Also leader of the elites. If the Skylanders were a school, he'd be the student who acts as the principal. And is the principal of the Academy.

Responsibility weighs but thanks to therapy, he's doing better.

Bouncer

Sports star and loveable jock to the max. Cares for his friends and is always inviting them out to play Roboto-Ball (nonexplosive). Even built a court for the Academy Cadets to play, and one for the Giants to play in as well.

Likes to be active and doesn't enjoy spinning his wheel. That being said, he's always down to hang out with others for a quiet activity like reading.

Best friend to everyone and anyone who is under 21. The man is the sports star who works with disadvantaged youth. He is always hanging out on his offtime to watch over and coach kids' sports teams. Dude cares for community.

Loves the limelight but not for his own glory. Loves it for the joy it gives others. He cares a lot more of what his fans think than himself. Sometimes a little too much.

Extremely smart when it comes to health of robots and other species as of recent. Especially Swarm as he was basically doctor for the teenage bee (Hot Head was dad). Tries to encourage healthy living and healthy lifestyles. Definitely spent his 3 years away writing books and giving talks.

The nicest of the Giants in line with Crusher. Ninjini's best friend and gossip pal.

Hoot Loop

Real name: Howard Harry Hootini

Photo fiend. Snaps selfies and shots whenever, wherever, however. Especially for pranks. Usually yells "say feathers" before using his ring to snap a photo or 60.

Smallest of the team. 4ft tall. 19 years when he joined the SWAP Force; 2nd youngest. So naturally, he is team baby, much to his own displeasure. He insists he isn't cute. His fluffing of his owl feathers and soft hooting says otherwise.

Can turn his head 360° (real owls are 270°). Does so constantly to spy on people. Teleports away when caught. Usually gets caught. And then punted into things like small storms, grass, his own bedroom...his friends...

Biggest prankster on the team with the other youngsters (Freeze Blade, Boom Jet & Fire Kraken). Knows how to do a whole lot of joke stuff. Do not challenge him for he will out-prank you.

Completely colorblind, but has the best night vision of the team. Normally nocturnal but he's been screwing up his sleep schedule for years so at this point he doesn't even care. He absolutely sleeps during the day.

Laughs at Free Ranger's seasonal molt. Looks just as rundown and ugly during his own.

Ships DoomRanger incessantly. Declared himself ringbearer and also threatened to fight anyone who tried to take that position from him. Still keeps true to that.

Short Cut

Real name: Edward Tower (named for Edward Scissorhands and Clock Tower).

Absolute perfectionist to the max with his work. Has an aneurysm around everyone else's work. Very precise, very specific.

Need an outfit? Give him 3 months notice, your season, likes, dislikes, color palette you like and than the color palette of your own body. He'll have something made just in time and it'll be perfect for you. And if it isn't, he's jumping off the island.

Give him as much notice as you can or else he will turn those scissors onto you. Only exception is if you give him notice the minute you find out yourself.

Will take whatever kind of accessories from his friends. Frequently gives Free Ranger and Stormblade protein shakes and then harvests specific feathers from them for clothes. They don't mind 'cause he also pays them really well for it.

Very hyper, very aware and very active. He doesn't burn out easily and if he does, it's the apocalypse and you should be very afraid.

Knows everything and anything about fashion, color, fabric and clothing. He could be universe-famous but he's cool with how he is.

Created the fashion courses at the Academy solely to teach others his craft because of his passion for it. Regularly hosts a seasonal fashion own of his students' creations. Proud teacher.

Smallest member of the team. About 3ft tall. Might change but he won't ever go above 4ft.

Very good at his Trap Team job. Very professional.

Biggest artist and frequently drags Fiesta and Splat because artsy trio friends.

Stormblade

Real name: Layla Storm

Gigantic tomboy but has no shame in her girliness. Listens to Taylor Swift obsessively and sings it obsessively. Don't mess with her Taylor Swift. She'll slice ya.

Also sings all sorts of peppy pop songs. Vocaloid and all that good stuff.

Dances as exercise and is really good at it. Definitely could beat you at Dance Dance Revolution.

Spitfire is like her 4th brother and she's totally down for it. He sings with her, they repair vehicles together, it's all good.

Optimism and action incarnate. Does get along with Nightfall nowadays thanks to therapy and also some bonding stuff. Tries to include Nightfall in everything she does because friendliness. Gets turned down a lot.

Very nice but also fiery and really doesn't take being scorned well. If Spitfire doesn't burn ya first, she will.

Always happy. If sad Stormblade, everything is wrong and must be fixed.

Her bedroom is soundproofed specifically so she can sing Taylor Swift at the top of her lungs with Spitfire and no one can complain ever again.

Eats bugs all the time. Can also eat like crazy. Burns tons of energy. Constantly. She'll inhale steaks and sheep and a whole lot of other food for those sweet sweet calories.

Bones are hollow but you'd be amazed at the punishment she can take. That being said, she overestimates how strong her bird bones are.

Has 3 beds at different elevations and with different styles depending on the mood she's in. The sadder she is, the closer to the ground.

Flare Wolf

Youngest of the Senseis with Aurora (discounting Boom Bloom who only recently cracked double digits). Best scout and knows a whole lot about survival and wilderness stuff. He's a very knowledgeable kid, but he's definitely got his wires fried, or the entire mainframe.

Hangs out with Fire Kraken. Worships the guy practically. Loves his fireworks and his bazookas. Also worships Zook.

Terrible at stealth. Too excitable, too fiery, too bazooka-loving. On the bright side, he a smol boi. 4ft tall as well.

Has baby face. Gets carded all the time. Has definitely tried to use it to his advantage. If he doesn't speak, it works a lot better.

Unsusal for a fire elemental, he can swim, and swim very well. He has a patch for that.

Has a patch for dang near everything he can think of. At some point after leaving the scouts and growing up, he made up new ones for fun. Makes patches for his students as well and uses them as learning milestones. His whole class know how to sew as a second skill.

Has so many strange hobbies that he's one of the guys you go to for off-the-book help. Makes sense because he's a total nut in personality. Definitely cooked himself.

He's been doing science with fire ever since he was young. Very good. Makes his own fireworks. Very much a science nerd of the "great scott, we're about to see some serious [CLUCK]". Definitely blew up a few labs. Also worships Pop Fizz as Ancient of the Lab Replacing. Because he always has a new one hidden somewhere. Has blown up at least 30. Pop Fizz is proud.

[illarian-rambling]

My Halloween question for you is, Which OC's are not winning against the vampire behavior allegations?

Ok, first I think we need to outline vampire behavior. To me, vampire behavior consists of:

Being nocturnal

Would drink a cup of blood if you handed it to them

Being fancy and refined

With that said, here's who checks which boxes

Izjik: 2 (She would 100% drink blood and also eat raw meat. However, she is far from refined and much more of a morning person)

Sepo: 1, 2, 3 (Bro is not beating the vampire allegations. He's very much a night owl, he will eat raw blood and meat if necessary, though he doesn't enjoy it like Izjik, and he's very refined)

Twenari: 1, 3 (Girly basically doesn't sleep and she is very fancy, but you won't catch her eating any blood)

Djek: 1 (He is neither fancy nor a blood-sucker, but he is a late-night kinda guy)

Astra: 1, 2 (She has insomnia, what can I say? And she'll try anything once)

Mashal: 3 (He's pretty fancy, but I won't count him as nocturnal because he doesn't sleep at all)

Ivander: 1, 2, 3 (The curse keeps him up at night and he's the epitome of refined. Also, he's morbidly curious enough to sip some blood)

Elsind: none (They're a sleepy fellow, would not drink blood under any circumstances, and, sadly, just can't be classified as fancy)

Avymere: 3 (Very refined, but they're a morning person and if you handed them a flask of red liquid, they would politely decline)

Faalgun: none (Somehow, the ghost is not vampirey at all)

Nyda: 1, 2 (She'd try the blood out of curiosity and she's also a total bedtime procrastinator)

Kaulakri: none (You won't catch her up late and I think if you asked her to try blood, she'd bite you)

Pash: 1, 2 (I can't in good conscience qualify him as refined or fancy)

Anarac: 2 (He's not naturally a late-night guy, but like Mashal, he just doesn't sleep at all. Also, while he wouldn't consume any blood willingly, he did quite memorably consume a large amount on a certain occasion)

Our winners are, very unsurprisingly, Sepo and Ivander! Two spooky, mopey guys with dark circles who'd kill you without a second thought - how appropriate. Thanks for the ask!

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Would decidueye or rowlet be good pets?? I love them smm :33

[I haven’t done either, so I’ll start with rowlet since it comes first in the pokédex] It probably won’t come as much of a surprise to anyone who has been following this blog for a while, but grass-type starter pokémon tend to make pretty good pets. And thank goodness too, because look at that face! Just look at it!

To begin with, rowlets are the perfect size to be a house pet at only a foot tall and about as light as can be. I will say, however, that the more space you have for your rowlet to play in, the better. These pokémon are active hunters and love to fly around (Sun, Moon, Shield), so they’ll definitely like a lot of space to explore and play with toys. If you live in a smaller place, you will want to make sure you bring them on excursions to pokémon parks or other outdoor areas often.

Additionally, like a lot of grass-type pokémon, rowlets get a lot of their energy through photosynthesis during the daytime (Sun). This means that you will need to provide them with a sunny spot, like a closed in patio or window perch. Simultaneousyl, however, these pokémon need a dark place to rest during the day if they choose to. Make sure to provide a rowlet with a “tight, dark” place, like a cat house or even a bag, to nest in and they will be happy (Ultra Moon). These pokémons’ nocturnal behavior also means that this pokémon would fit best with a (no pun intended) night-owl. Rowlets are most active at night (Sun, Shield), so you’re not likely to get a good night’s rest until you’ve spent some quality play-time with your rowlet. Be careful, though, these little guys can pack a punch.

Rowlets are skilled hunters due to their ability to sneak up their prey silently, ambushing them with “formidable” kicks and knife-sharp feathers (Moon, Ultra Sun, Sword). This makes friendly, but perhaps a bit rough, sneak attacks from a playful rowlet a bit of a force to be reckoned with. These abilities present themselves in painful moves like Razor Leaf, Leaf Blade, and Brave Bird. Think of it as having a rowdy cat that can fly through the air and shoot their claws at you from a long distance. This would, understandable, not be a lot of owners jam, but it’s certainly something that can be handled with proper training. On this blog, we give the benefit of the doubt to species that are commonly used as first partner pokémon. There is record of rowlets serving the role of first partner pokémon for trainers from Hisui-era Sinnoh to modern Alola. This indicates that this pokémon is receptive to training and friendly to humans. So, while they could certainly give you a beating, they’re not as much a concern as a bigger pokémon with a history of attacking humans and resisting training.

Some final points: if you live somewhere that has a lot of problems with pests, like on a farm, a rowlet would be a highly recommended pet. Like a farm cat, rowlets with happily keep pest populations down for you! Additionally, I would recommend any rowlet owners to make use of an everstone, at least until they get some experience caring for a rowlet. Dartrixes are a little more of a handful, so you won’t want your pet to evolve unless you are prepared for the responsibility.

Overall, a rowlet would make a great pet for the right person. They’re quite playful, and their nocturnal lifestyle won’t be a fit for everyone, but it’s hard to go wrong with a pokémon with a history of being first partners for young trainers around the world.