#when bones 👁️👁️

[hahahalfwit]

im studying them like little bugs

[drpicklesart]

they are going to mehnahnaroo

[miz-chase]

booth and brennan are great because you have the scaling intimacies of

Dr. Brennan || Brennan || Bones || Temperance || Tempe

and

Agent Booth || Booth || Seeley || Seel

It's fun to spin out different different stories where they would use each name. I especially have Thoughts about the tone of voice Brennan could use with "Seel" >:3c

[soh-da-meatball]

Some sketches to help with my Baldur’s Gate brainrot 👁️👁️ I drew Karlach and Astarion dancing because we all know Karlach’s got a boogie bone in her and when was the last time Astarion got to dance like no one was watching? Let the boy dance!!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Your first encounter with Rin Itoshi in a world struck by tragedy.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Rin x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.0k

Content Warnings: zombie apocalypse au, reader is suicidal, reader is the final boss of being a failure, not SELF indulgent because i wrote it for a friend but indulgent nonetheless, zombies are gross, rin is there ig, this is super short i wrote it in like. an hour, i haven't paid attention to bllk for a while so rin is obvs going to be ooc sorry

A/N: good morning @sumiscribe-side i am Perceiving you rn 👁️👁️ i hope you do not perceive me in return...for the rest of you who may or may not be reading this is just like a silly drabble based on a convo sumi and i were having earlier that i ended up writing as a surprise for my baddie LOLOL i could've expanded on this premise more and even made a series out of it but i did not Want to. seeing as rin is not my #man LMAO but anyways if it's confusing/vague that's why SDKJFH SORRY I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M WRITING THIS AFTER SAYING I WAS DONE W BLLK HAHA

The knife in your hands is pungent with the scent of rust, the blade long since turned red from corrosion, but the point is sharp enough that when you press your finger to it, you wince before brightening. It’s the first sharp thing you’ve seen in a while, and you’re more than a little relieved that finally, finally, you might find some reprieve from the endless cycle you’ve been trapped in since the world ended one month ago.

You raise it in the air and sniff it delicately; the tang of the metal is acrid and bitter, but it’s better than the rot lingering in the air, which is heavy and humid and sticks to your skin and clothes and hair until you feel like vomiting. You really might've vomited — you did the first day, after all — but as of late your reserves of food have dipped so pitifully low that all you have left to your name is a pack of crackers and a perpetual nausea, gnawing low in your gut and almost certainly the cruelest part of this entire situation.

“Well, then,” you say, twirling the knife between your fingers. “Let’s get to business!”

You’re oddly cheery for a girl who’s about to die, but given that you’re meeting this death without jaws sinking into your shoulder or decay coating the inside of your nostrils, you feel like some happiness is deserved. It’s strange to think of, but you really are luckier than most, and certainly you are luckier than those who were caught close to the epicenter of the outbreak’s beginning.

Right as the tip of the blade comes to rest against your sternum, not deep enough to pierce it but firm enough that you know it’s there, you hear a low groan. Your eyes widen, and then you whip around, brandishing the knife before you as if it will do anything.

It’s one of them — the infected, the undead, the sick, or whatever other polite term the media is using to refer to them now. You can’t keep track of them all — it feels as though there is a different name every minute — but your mother was once a fan of this genre, and you’ve seen enough movies to know what they are actually called: zombies.

This one is tall, achingly slim, its skin clinging to its bones and riddled with holes, its fingers gaunt as they reach towards you, twin black pits carved into its face where its eyes once sat. It doesn’t need to see to know where you are; it can sense you, the sweetness of your living flesh irresistible to its decomposing maw, which hangs loose with another trembling moan of delight at your proximity.

With a yelp, you scramble backwards. To your dismay, the knife slips from your hands and is immediately caught underfoot by the zombie, the metal hissing into steam as it dissolves from strength of the mucus dripping down the creature's legs. You swear to yourself, because that was your one chance at peace and your own hesitation cost you it, but then the zombie wails and breaks into a run and you’re swearing for a different reason.

Your instincts tell you to scream for help, but you don’t, because you don’t want to attract more of them and end up cornered, torn apart by an entire pack of the things. You've managed to avoid that outcome thus far, your strategy of hiding in whatever bodies of water you can find successful enough given that your scent is washed away rather handily by the rushing currents, but of course your luck would run out eventually.

“It’s fine!” you chant to yourself as you run. “It’s fine, I’ll go through with it next time. I’ll do it next time! It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s — ah!”

You attempt to skid to a stop, but you cannot stop yourself from tripping over the man crouched by the smoldering remains of a fire, tumbling over him with your legs in the air and your limbs askew as you land in a heap behind him. Not even taking the time to greet him, you shoot back to your feet and shove him in the direction of the zombie, calling out an apology over your shoulder and hoping that his sacrifice buys you enough time to get to the river you left behind when searching for a weapon.

There’s a loud bang, and then someone is yanking you back by your sleeve. With a squeal, you squeeze your eyes shut and kick at your captor, but instead of the grating, rumbling sound characteristic of zombies in distress, you hear a grunt.

“What the hell is your problem?”

You crack your eyes open and find yourself met with the arresting glare of the man, who is both the one holding you in place and the one snapping at you. There’s a layer of dust on his face and smears of blood on his jacket, but he’s otherwise clean and unharmed, though the scowl twisting his handsome features is more reminiscent of someone who's dying in agony. 

“Where did it go?” you say. “That zombie, where is it?”

“The infected,” he corrects you, rolling his eyes. “I killed it.”

“Killed it? You have a weapon, then?” you say, ignoring his snarky amendment.

“So what if I do?” he say.

“Give it to me,” you say. He’s disgusted now, disgusted and more than a little horrified as he drops you to the ground and steps away from you.

“No way,” he says. 

“I’ll give it right back! I just need to borrow it to do…something,” you say.

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s very convincing.”

“You don’t sound very convinced,” you say. He doesn’t even give this the grace of a response, and you huff. “I’m not going to take it from you. Look, I’m not some kind of survivor or whatever. I just want to get out of here before I’m ripped to shreds and messily enjoyed by one of those zombie freaks.”

This time, he doesn’t bother with correcting you for the casual name, only looking you over, measuring you with his steady gaze, which is unreadable and blue and reminds you of what summertime used to feel like.

“You’re looking for one of the strongholds, then?” he says. 

“Strongholds?” you repeat. You’ve heard that some of the bigger cities have consolidated their forces, built impenetrable fortresses that are checked meticulously for any signs of illness, but you’ve long since dismissed such tales as nothing but fantasies created by survivors desperate to cling onto something like hope. 

“Yes,” he says, and he’s clearly impatient. “There’s one not too far from here. Isn’t that your destination?”

“I didn’t know those were real,” you say. He squints at you, and then he clicks his tongue.

“Seriously,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re still alive. How unprepared can you get?”

“I wish I wasn’t,” you say, candidly and without any emotion. “I’m sick of this. The only reason I’m still going is because I need something a bit more sophisticated than a well-shaped stick to get the job done, you know? I’m not that brave, after all. If I were, I would’ve just let myself be taken by the hordes, but as it is, I’m waiting until I find something that’ll make it quick.”

“What?” he says.

“I found it, too!” you continue, and it’s been so long since you had a proper conversation with an actual person, not a tree stump or stray deer, that you find yourself more than a little impassioned. “I found a knife, and I was just about to do it, I really was! But then, ugh, that zombie came and I panicked and dropped it and then it melted, because of course it did, of-fucking-course it did, and then I was running and next thing I know, I’m tripping over you!”

He blinks at you, and then he exhales, running a hand through his dark hair like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, although you think it’s fairly reasonable, all things considered. His other hand drops to his belt, and that’s when you notice he has a pistol hanging on his belt — indubitably the source of the bang from earlier.

“No,” he says when he notices where you’re looking. “That’s not an option.”

“It would be so easy, though,” you plead. “Come on, help a girl out, won’t you?”

“Haven’t I helped you enough?” he says. “I saved your life earlier. You’d be, uh, what did you call it? ‘Ripped to shreds and messily enjoyed by one of those zombie freaks?' Yeah. You definitely weren’t outrunning that thing for much longer, I can promise you that.”

“Why does it matter to you?” you say, deciding not to comment on his swift judgement of your athletic ability. He’s probably right, anyways, and besides, anything resembling the pride you had once maintained had fled with the first zombie you had narrowly escaped from.

“Ammunition isn’t cheap,” he says.

“I’ll pay you for it!” you say. “How about that? Sounds fair, right? I give you something, and you do it for me. Total deal!”

“Hm. What do you have?” he says, and you’re so taken aback by the genuine answer that you fumble about for a bit, your hands fishing around in your pockets for something of value.

“How about these crackers?” you say, waving your only possession at him tantalizingly.

“Crackers,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging downwards.

“They’re gourmet,” you say.

“No, they’re not,” he says.

“They are!” you insist.

“I’ve seen that exact brand in the convenience store before,” he says. You pause at this.

“You must have some…very fancy convenience stores where you live,” you say finally. He’s clearly unimpressed, and you shove the crackers back in your pocket before clasping your hands together. “Look, this is all I’ve got. If it’s not you or a zombie, I’ll just die of starvation, anyways. Can’t you consider it a mercy kill or something?”

He shifts from foot to foot, and for the first time you realize that it’s not just obstinance — despite the ease with which he shot the zombie, the thought of killing you is another thing entirely, and he’s clearly repulsed by the idea. So, pursing your lips, you nod at him.

“Alright, I get it,” you say with a sigh. “Don’t worry, I’m not that horrible. If that’s how it is, I’ll just get going now. Thanks for the help…?”

You don’t expect him to give you his name, not when you’re a stranger who could do anything with it, but it’s a holdover, an old habit from when you would go to school and make friends in exactly that way, with a raise of your brow and an invitation to complete your sentence.

“Rin,” he says. Your eyes widen, and then you smile, because it’s a name that suits him, lovely and simple, strong like the bridge of his nose, which is currently wrinkled in something resembling a frown. 

“Rin,” you affirm. You don’t give him your name in exchange, and he doesn’t ask for it. “Thanks again.”

“Wait,” he says, opening his bag and tossing a can at you. “Here.”

The label is faded beyond comprehension, but you can tell that it’s something like beans or vegetables, something substantial that makes your stomach grumble by its weight alone. It’s precious, this food which won’t go bad for years, and you furrow your brow, because what reason does he have for giving it to you?

“Live long enough to come by something worthwhile,” he says, answering your question before you can ask it. “And then come find me again.”

“Then will you—?” Your voice breaks off, and you hug the can to your chest. It’s harder to speak of when you’re so close to it, harder to tell him you want death when he’s offering to give you just that. 

He swallows, and you can tell even with that one simple act that he is sick from it, sick from the mere possibility, but you're selfish, in order to survive you have to be, so you don’t move to reassure him.

“Yes,” he says, and it's shuddery and reluctant but he does it. “The next time we meet, if you still want me to, I’ll kill you.”

[puppetwoman17]

Don’t mind me, just thinking about it Billy being present for every meeting of the Quintessence.

Basically these guys.

The group usually consists of

The Guardians of the Universe(Green Lantern leaders)

Zeus

Hera

Allfather(New Gods)

Shazam

Phantom Stranger

The Spectre

So basically these people are a huge deal and at least three of them are closely tied to our boy Cap. So I’m thinking, he lounges around during their meetings, especially when there’s food. Before he came around, they didn’t have anything to eat. I mean they don’t NEED to. But now there’s a new champion, one who really needs some meet on those bones.

He always ends up falling asleep. Sometimes in Hera’s hair(never in Zeus, he always forgets to brush). A couple times in Spectre’s cloak. Or he’ll even lean against Shazam’s throne.

But don’t let that make you think he doesn’t pay attention! He’s basically the only conduit the heroes of earth have to these big shots, so he takes notes and everything. Idk I just think it’s very neat if Billy had parental figures who are also just. Gigantic. 👁️👁️

Also I’m just imagining the reactions from the JL, JL Dark, and even heroes in general when the Quintessence appear in front of them once to send them a message. One of them spots Billy and just divebombs for a hug. “Guys, look! It’s the baby🤩!”

[childrenofcain-if]

CW: CANNIBALISM

W is just the character who'd go all ride-or-die for us 👁️👁️ I am LOOKING! With all the cannibalism allegation, would they join us if there was a Bones and All AU with MC being an eater? Out of all the ROs, I feel like they're the only one who'd accept us like that from the very beginning

the bullying began so long ago that it felt like cicadas in the summer or the thrum of air conditioning inside your house—always there, always insidious.

W was delicate in ways the world found easy to prey upon, not because they were weak but because they felt too much. it showed in the way their hands trembled when they clenched them, in the tears that gathered in their eyes when the laughter of their tormentors reached their ears.

you had spent years trying to stop it. standing in hallways with your fists balled, staring down cole and his cronies, daring them to come closer. sometimes it worked—your defiance could scatter them like pigeons startled from a rooftop—but only for a time. they always returned, like a bad bout of winter, colder and harsher than before.

cole had always been there—a looming, destructive presence that crushed everything in his path. he was bigger than life, in size and ego, in anger and entitlement, and he flaunted his privilege like no other. his father’s influence whispered behind closed doors, his fists a language of violence that left bruises on W’s ribs and a tremor in their voice.

for years, you had tried to shield W, to draw his fire onto yourself when it became too much. for years, W had endured it.

“i told the principal again,” W had said one day, their voice brittle with exhaustion. “he just gave me that look, you know? the one where you can tell he’s already decided not to care.”

and you did know. you’d seen it before, that glazed-over indifference. cole’s father sat on the school board like some sort of king, his power extending over even the smallest squabbles of the student body. but what felt small to the school was enormous to W.

“i’ll fix it,” you had promised them, even as you didn’t know how.

the solution had come from your father, as many of them did. elias, who rarely spoke in anger but could wield his wealth like a weapon when the moment demanded it.

“i’ll buy the entire damn school board if i have to,” he had said when you told him about the bullying. and elias didn’t make empty threats.

cole was ‘transferred’ soon after, the details vague but the outcome seemed decent. and for a while, it seemed like things might actually change.

but cole wasn’t one to let things go.

W had confessed it in a choked whisper the other day, tears carving clean lines down their dirt-smudged cheeks.

“cole’s still… i think he’s following me,” they had said, their voice shaking like a leaf caught in a gale. “he waits for me after school. he knows where i live.”

you’d felt the familiar heat of anger rising in your chest, your fists clenching as you swore you’d make it stop. but what could you possibly do as a high school junior that your father hadn’t already done?

what could you do to a boy like cole, whose world was built on the certainty that no one would ever truly punish him?

the gas station was quiet, the flickering of the neon lights outside the only sound as you paid for your drink and stepped out into the cooling evening air.

the pavement under your sneakers was warm from the day’s sun. you were halfway down the road, the horizon a bleeding canvas of pink and gold, when you heard the blue corvette pull up beside you.

cole’s voice was a venomous drawl as he grinned wolfishly and got out of his car. “hey there, long time no see.”

you took a step back. “leave me the fuck alone, cole.”

he didn’t. of course he didn’t.

before you could react, his arm snaked around your neck, pulling you into a headlock. his strength was overwhelming, his gym-built muscles like iron bars against your skin.

you struggled, your sneakers scraping against the asphalt as he dragged you, half-choking, toward the cornfield on the side of the road.

panic surged through you, hot and electric. you thrashed against him, clawing at his arm, but it was like fighting a mountain. the stalks of corn closed in around you, their rustling leaves swallowing the sound of your gasps.

the field swallowed you both, its towering stalks turning the world into a maze of green and gold shadows.

you’d never liked cornfields. there was something too perfect, too endless about them, rows upon rows standing like soldiers awaiting orders. today, they were silent. watching. waiting.

you stumbled over uneven ground, your sneakers catching on roots, the dirt kicking up into your face. the air stunk with the green smell of crushed stalks and the faint, acrid sting of gasoline from the vehicles that passed the highway after getting a refill from the nearby gas station.

cole’s arm was an iron band around your neck, cutting off air, and you could feel his sweat slick against your skin. you clawed at his forearm, nails digging deep enough to leave crescents, but he didn’t even flinch. his breathing was heavy, labored, as if he were dragging a bag of stones and not another human being.

“stop struggling,” he growled, voice sounding like gravel scraping against a rusted shovel. “it’s not gonna make this easier for you.”

you didn’t answer. not like you could even if you wanted to. your words would be crushed beneath the weight of his arm, your lungs burning. but even if you could have spoken, you wouldn’t have begged. not to him. not to anyone.

the world narrowed to the two of you, his strength against your will. you twisted your body, kicking at his shin with a desperation that sent a flare of pain up your leg, but he only hissed and tightened his grip.

finally, he shoved you forward, and you fell to your knees, gasping for air, the dirt biting into your palms. you scrambled to your feet, but he was faster, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around. his face was twisted with rage, lips pulled back in something too animal to be called a smile.

“you think you’re so fucking superior, don’t you?” he snarled. “you and that little freak friend of yours. you think you can ruin my life and just walk away?”

your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, glaring up at him.

“you ruined your own life, cole,” you spat out. “you’ve been a bully since the day you learned how to swing your fists in order to get your way. W’s ten times the person you’ll ever be, and you always picked on them for no reason other than to satisfy your own sick pleasure.”

that struck a nerve. his face twisted, the veins in his neck standing out like cords. he lunged, grabbing the front of your shirt and hauling you up so your faces were inches apart.

“shut your fucking mouth if you know what’s good for you,” he hissed. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“oh, i know enough,” you said, the poison in your voice surprising even yourself. “i know your dad’s been cleaning up your messes for years. must be hard to grow up knowing the only time you feel like a man is when you’re picking on other kids.”

“you don’t know anything,” he repeated, his voice trembling now, not with nervousness, but with something far more dangerous.

and then he was on you, his hands around your throat, squeezing until the world started blurring out. your hands scrabbled at his wrists, but his grip was unrelenting, and the familiar panic clawed its way back up your chest.

the world tilted, the cornfield spinning around you, the green and gold blurring together into something surreal and wrong.

you thought of W then, their tear-streaked face, their voice breaking as they confided in you about anything and everything. you thought of all the times you’d tried to protect them, only to fail. and now, here you were, about to become another one of cole’s victims.

your fingers brushed against something cold and hard— a rock, jagged and solid. you didn’t think. you didn’t have the time to think. your body moved on instinct, your arm swinging wide and bringing the rock down on the side of his head.

the sound was wet and final, a krrack! that seemed to echo through the field, bouncing off the stalks and the sky and the earth itself.

cole froze above you, his hands falling away from your neck, his expression slack, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. for a moment, he was just a boy—a scared sixteen-year-old boy. his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out. and then he crumpled, his body hitting the ground beside you with a thud that sent a shudder through your own.

you staggered back, the rock slipping from your fingers. your breath came in shallow gasps, your throat raw and burning. you stared at him, at the way his body lay twisted in the dirt, his eyes staring up at the sky, unblinking.

“cole?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “cole.”

he didn’t move.

it hit you then, a wave of horror so strong it nearly made you yell. you’d killed him. you’d killed cole.

the cornfield was silent, the only sound your ragged breathing and the distant whir of cars passing occasionally on the highway. you were alone, and yet you weren’t. the field was watching, the world was watching, and you could feel their eyes on you, accusing and hungry and unrelenting.

your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat, but you couldn’t look away.

his blood was pooling beneath his head, dark and viscous, soaking into the dirt like ink spilling onto a page. the sight of it did something to you, something primal and terrible, like the tearing of a pomegranate, the way the seeds spilled out, red and glistening, the taste sharp and metallic. you felt that same hunger now, a gnawing ache deep in your chest, as if something inside you had been waiting for this moment, waiting to be fed.

but it wasn’t just hunger. it was revulsion, too, a sickening mix of desire and disgust that made you want to scream, to run, to claw at your own skin until you felt clean again. your hands trembled as you reached out, then pulled back, unsure of what to do, of who you even were anymore.

your hands then reached back out as if making up their minds. you stared, horrified and helpless, as they extended toward cole’s still body, fingers curling into claws. they tore through the fabric of his shirt, breaking the fragile barrier of skin with a wet sound that made bile rise to the back of your throat.

but the bile didn’t come, and neither did the disgust you expected earlier. instead, there was only this strange hunger.

it was euphoric, thrumming through your veins like a song you’d always known but never sung aloud. your fingers plunged deeper, seeking, finding, and ripping. there was no hesitation, no thought. just action. your hands disappeared into the cavity of his chest, the slick warmth of blood coating your skin, your nails scraping against bone.

somewhere, far away, a still-sane part of you screamed to stop, to look away, to do anything but this, but the hunger drowned out everything else.

and then your teeth joined the fray. you didn’t remember when you leaned forward, when your lips pressed to his ruined chest, but suddenly you were biting, tearing, devouring. the first taste was an explosion, the metallic flavor tinged with something indescribably sweet, like burnt sugar at the edges of a flame.

it was ambrosia, a feast fit for gods, and it belonged to you.

you tore through the sinew and tissue with an ease that startled you, your jaw working like it had done this a thousand times before. blood smeared across your face, sticky and warm, running down your chin and pooling in the hollow of your throat.

you didn’t give a shit about it though. all that mattered was the taste, the sensation of this human’s flesh yielding beneath your teeth, the way his ribs opened up like a flower blooming only for you.

his heart was your favourite. you held it in your hands for a moment, its weight startlingly small, before sinking your teeth into the tender muscle. it was softer than you’d expected, almost delicate, and the flavor burst across your tongue like a symphony of everything you’d ever craved but never known how to name. your body sang with it, every nerve alight, every sense in perfect harmony.

cole’s hazel eyes came next. you couldn’t stand their glassy, lifeless stare, the way they seemed to accuse you even in death. they were soft, too, yielding easily beneath your teeth, and though the taste was a little bitter, it was satisfying in a way that you hadn’t expected. you chewed them slowly, the squelch of it audible as you savored each bite until there was nothing left to see, nothing left to judge you.

cole had it coming, hadn’t he? the thought floated to the surface of your mind, tenuous and fragile, as if spoken by someone else entirely. he’d hurt W, tormented them, made their life a living hell. he’d hurt you, too, dragged you into this field with the intent to kill, his hands around your throat and his hatred burning in his eyes.

this was your own kind of justice, wasn’t it?

and yet, as the hunger began to ebb, as the primal urge receded like a tide, the horror set in. you sat back on your heels, your hands and face slick with blood, your stomach churning with the realization of what you’d done.

cole’s body—or what remained of it—lay sprawled before you, unrecognizable, torn apart by your own hands and teeth.

you gagged, your body convulsing with dry retches, but nothing came up. the hunger had consumed everything, left no room for regret or revulsion to expel itself.

you pressed a shaking bloody hand to your chest, feeling the rapid thrum of your heartbeat, and fumbled for your phone with the other.

the screen blurred through tears you hadn’t realized were falling, but you managed to pull up W’s number. your fingers shook so badly you almost dropped the phone as you pressed it to your ear. the dial tone felt endless, every second stretching into eternity, until finally, W’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“hello?” their voice was soft, hesitant, as if they could already sense something was wrong.

“W,” you choked out, your voice barely recognizable. “i n-need you. please. please come.”

“where are you?” their tone shifted instantly, concern overtaking caution. “what happened? are you okay?”

“the cornfield,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “somewhere near the gas station which has the neon signs. cole’s car is there. please, just—just come. i can’t—” your voice broke, a sob escaping before you could stop it.

“hey, hey, it’s okay,” W said quickly, their voice soothing, though you could hear the edge of panic creeping in. “i’m on my way. stay there, okay? don’t move.”

the call ended, and you were left alone again, the silence of the field becoming all too much. you looked down at your hands, at the blood smeared across your skin, the pieces of cole’s flesh that clung to your nails, and your stomach twisted.

you couldn’t move. all you could do was wait, the hunger still lurking at the edges of your mind, a shadow that promised it wasn’t finished with you quite yet.

W gripped the steering wheel tightly, their knuckles pale and fingers trembling as they pushed the old sedan past the speed limit. the engine groaned in protest, but they didn’t care. you were out there, somewhere, and you needed them. that was the only thought that mattered, drowning out the rush of adrenaline, the fear gnawing at the edges of their mind.

their sapphire blue eyes scanned the evening road ahead, headlights cutting through the sudden thick fog that clung to the landscape.

the gas station came into view first, a dimly lit beacon with its neon lights, and then after driving past it for a couple more minutes—there it was. the blue corvette. it gleamed faintly under the flicker of a dying streetlamp, its ostentatious frame a cruel reminder of the boy who’d tormented them for years.

W gulped, their hands briefly tightening on the wheel. a part of them wanted to turn back, to leave cole and everything he represented behind, but they shoved the thought aside. you were out there. you were in danger.

if they were going to be brave for anyone, it would be for you.

they parked a little ways down the road, their chuck taylors almost slipping on the wet asphalt as they stepped out into the night.

the rain had begun to fall in earnest now, a steady drizzle that dampened their hair and clothes within seconds. they wiped their hands against their jeans, steeling themselves, and followed the faint drag marks leading into the cornfield.

the stalks towered over them, swaying in the breeze and slapping against their skin as they pushed through. every creak and rustle was amplified by the silence of the evening, but W ignored it, their focus narrowing to the path ahead.

they could hear something now, soft and broken—your voice. crying.

they quickened their pace, the corn whipping against their face, leaving red welts on their cheeks. each step brought new fear, new scenarios conjured by their racing mind. what if cole had hurt you? what if he’d dragged you into the field and left you for dead? what if—

but what they found wasn’t what they’d expected.

W froze, their breath catching in their throat as they stumbled into the clearing. you were there, lying in the dirt, your shoulders hunched and shaking as you sobbed. blood covered you—your face, your hands, your clothes—and it didn’t seem to be yours. it stained the earth around you, pooled in dark puddles, smeared across your mouth like some grotesque parody of a smile.

and then there was cole. or what was left of him, to be precise.

his body lay crumpled nearby, torn open, half-eaten. his chest was a ruin of gore, ribs splintered and jutting out like jagged teeth. his face—what remained of it—was twisted in a rictus of terror: lower jaw torn off and missing, ears half-bitten, empty eye sockets.

W’s stomach lurched, bile rising in their throat, but they swallowed it down.

“oh god,” they whispered, their voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

you looked up then, your bloodstained face contorted with grief and fear.

“elmo,” you choked out, the nickname slipping past your lips like you were five again. “i didn’t mean to. i don’t know what happened. i didn’t—”

W didn’t let you finish. they crossed the distance between you in three long strides, dropping to their knees in the mud. they wrapped their arms around you, pulling you close despite the blood, despite the gore, despite everything.

“it’s okay,” they murmured, their voice shaking but steady enough for your sake. “it’s okay. i’ve got you. you’re okay.”

you sobbed into their shoulder, your fingers clutching at their shirt as if you could anchor yourself to them, as if they were the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

“i didn’t want to,” you whispered. “i didn’t want to do this. it wasn’t my fault.”

“i know,” W said, even as their mind reeled. they couldn’t stop staring at cole’s body, at the brutality you’d left behind, but they forced the thoughts away. you needed them right now, and that was all that mattered.

the rain had begun to fall harder, washing away the blood from your skin and theirs, mixing it with the mud beneath you. W gently cupped your face, their thumb brushing away the streaks of red that the rain hadn’t reached.

“listen to me,” they said, their tone firmer now. you’d never seen them so serious and determined. “you’re coming home with me, okay? my aunt and uncle are out of town. we’ll get you cleaned up, and we’ll figure out what to do next. together.”

you nodded, your eyes wide and glassy, like a child’s. “what about…” you trailed off, glancing at cole’s body, your expression crumpling with fresh grief.

W followed your gaze, their stomach twisting.

“it looks like an animal attack,” they said slowly, the words tasting foreign in their mouth. “there are wolves out here. bears, too. we’ll let the rain do the rest. nobody has to know.”

you nodded again, but your hands still trembled as you tried to wipe the blood from them. W reached into their pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, and started cleaning your face as best they could. the fabric turned red almost instantly, but they didn’t stop until most of the blood was gone.

the rain was on your side, washing away the rest—your footprints, the drag marks, the blood trail leading to the clearing. W pulled you to your feet, steadying you as you swayed, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

they led you back to the car, their mind racing. they weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

cole was dead, and a part of them—a small, shameful part—felt relief. he couldn’t hurt them anymore. he couldn’t hurt you. but the sight of you covered in blood, the memory of his mangled body… it would stay with them forever.

for now, though, they pushed it all aside. they focused on getting you to the car, on getting you home, on making sure you were okay. the rest could wait.

the rest would have to wait.

[erineas]

!!! Look at herrrr, so cute and tinyyyy!! I can'ttttt 🥺💕

@erineas as a bitty

Based off this post https://www.tumblr.com/erineas/726866403381084160/tried-those-neka-maker-for-myself-and-didnt

[banj0possum]

what would your characters react to reader wanting to squeeze their chest? like they jutst walk up to them all shy and stuff and they just mutter out if they can touch da boob, especially valeth and baron 👁️👁️

Asking Them If They Can Squeeze Their Chest

My OCs x GN Reader

CW: touching the booba, a bit suggestive themes in some parts

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Adrian scoffs while hiding his red face. "Pfft huh? What are you, some kind of pervert? Hah! W-wait why are you walking away! I didn't say no dumbass!" please cup his moobs he is begging you please hold them gently in your hands

Brandon is a bit embarrassed and doesn't know what to do.. Does he need to take off his shirt? Should he shower first? He's just had practice! If you compliment him afterwards he's blacking out over how flustered he is from you touching him.

Valeth is happy to let you feel him! A true warrior has no shame when it comes to showing off their body. You must admire your loving mate very much! He loves looking down at you as you feel him. Your eyes look like stars as your hands squeeze his chest, he won't lie, he might ask you to do this again.

Bo is a bit hesitant. Are you sure? There's not a lot left.. If you insist, he will sheepishly lift up his shirt and look away, he doesn't want to seeing him all shy. Please reassure him that you love him and his looks, he's very insecure about his body, the poor boy.

Screw is flustered. "Wh-what?! Y-you wanna- with me? Uhm..o-ok! P-please me gentle!" He's very ticklish so he's trying not to laugh while you touch him, you're both just very very flustered during the entire ordeal, Soda and Rib's was laughing their bones off watching the two of you.

Ribs is confused. "I...don't have any..."

Soda is flat but you're welcome to touch him. You are his mate after all :)

Wolfie rolls over and wags his tail. Please please please ! His leg kicks frantically as you rub his chest. Please nuzzle your face in his chest! He'll pull you close and lick your cheek telling how cute you are.

Dorik stand up and quickly lifts up his sweater. "Anything for you Master!......why are you not doing it yet?"

Kalva cocks his head in confusion. You have to act out that wanna honka honka his boobas and once he realizes what you're asking, he does a little :0 face and hops closer to you and sits down politely. He give you permission. :3

Jasper is in shock, he is frozen. If you ask if he's ok, he tries his best to compose himself and give you permission. He tries to look indifferent to it but he's not hiding his grin very well.

Viktor stops sipping his tea for a moment, his cheeks a bit red. "P-pardon me, my Dear?" Of course you can uhm...feel..him...if he had a heartbeat, it would be beating so fast it would sound like humming.

Garrick is ready for you to do it, he's read your mind, his tits already out to be honked baby. He's on the bed waiting for you to hop in with him. 'For the full experience' he says.

Silas has a smirk on his face and leans closer to your face. "My dear sweet (Y/N), you really want to do such a thing~? Well then, how about we go up to our quarters so you can feel me all you want~"

Baron's cold facade breaks for a moment as you ask him, his saliva gets caught in his throat and he starts coughing out of surprise. Once he regains his composure he flatly agrees and gulps when your hands touch his chest. He doesn't utter a word or sound the whole time. When you look back up at him, he has a nosebleed. "I-it's nothing Boss, I'm fine..please continue.."

Caspian swoons and coos so much, you almost drop the request all together. "Oh my! How romantic! How forward! You're so sudden my Treasure, I love it!~" He's very loud and sensitive so expect him to make some questionable sounds if you ask him.

[heeliopheelia]

CARLY WHAT ARE HYUNG LINE'S FAV POSITIONS IN BED?? 👁️👄👁️

hiii!! okay i actually had to do some thinking in here but there it is:

HEESEUNG

look i don't make rules but cowgirl with hee just sounds right yk? he just loves when you ride him!! it's perfect bcs he lets you control the pace at the beginning then finishes fucking you however he wants to when your legs finally give out from all the hassle 💯 and when you start clinging to him and press your tits to his chest - consider my man gone

prone bone okay i put this one in here bcs i can SO see him going absolutely feral at the feeling of how tight you are in this position, all sprawled out beneath him and completely left to his mercy 🫠 it's also a lot easier to hit your g-spot this way so you can't complain either ☝️

JAY

he's a giver alright, so even if technically it's not a position, he looooves face sitting a lot!! he just wants you to nearly suffocate him, so even if you try to not put all of your weight on him in concern for his health, he will literally grab your thighs and force you onto his face whether you want it or not... just take what he gives you, silly!! 😠 he's only fully satisfied when his face is completely burried in your pussy and he's DRENCHED in your juices 😽

look he's a simple man so - missionary. it gives him the best view at your face scrunching up or eyes rolling back as he fucks into you so well 🧎 it's also so intimate and jay is a very loving guy so he thrives off of miantaining eye contact with you, always looking for some subtle changes in your expression if you ever feel uncomfortable (mom i love him) 🫶

JAKE

i've already said it once but i'll say it again: jake is an avid doggy enthusiast 🗣️my man can't help it okay? he just loves your ass a little too much to pass the opportunity to get to look at it from a front row seat 😩 also likes to push down on your spine to make you arch more or pull your hair if you're into this kinda stuff 🥴

and another one i've mentioned before - reverse cowgirl!! also has a lot to do with the fact that it gets him the best access to your behind, sorry🤷but what really makes him love this position is how easily he can watch his dick slide in and out of you + he gets to grope your ass as much as he wants to so it's a win win for him really 👀

SUNGHOON

spooning which is often a result of cockwarming. whenever he has a tiring day at work, there's nothing more he loves than chilling with you on a couch and holding your body extremely close to his. it's so relaxing too!! he can go slower and deeper in this position than usually and more times than not it ends up with you milking him dry from all he has 🙆

full nelson - gosh i feel so hot all of sudden 💃 there goes me with my hard dom hoon agenda AND IT'S A PERFECT POSITION TO GO ALONG WITH IT 🗣️ like just imagine those big hands of his holding up your thighs as he bullies his cock into you from under you 🧍 he can also force the filthiest sounds out of you so easily like that!! WILL also choke you if you wanna, i-... i'll stop right here in consideration of my own mental health but you got the picture, right?

[vickozone]

Malevolent and The Magnus Archives/Protocol, but it’s quotes from my friends

👁️The Magnus Archives/Protocol📼

Helen: So, what are we? Michael: We’re confused, okay?

Elias: I’m going to eat so many people’s eyes.

Nikola: All flesh and bone here! Nothing to question! Tim, looking through artifact storage: We have a sexually repressed lamp!?

Victim: He has a needle! Needles: I do not have a needle. [sound of audible needle dropping]

Alice: I created a new slur! Sam: You can’t do that… Alice: Shut up, widget!

Jon: Your eyes kinda look like JFK.

Gertrude: You’re a teenager. You can’t handle the N Word.

Alice: Work’s the best when we get to swear!

Martin: I think Prentiss wants to have sex with a beehive!

Jared: I brought you an entire bag of bones today.

Jon: Wow! This tastes like shit! I wish it was a Leon Kennedy whimper audio.

Michael: My pronouns are This/These/Those.

👑Malevolent🩸

Arthur: Are the tentacles hot?

Kayne: Misogyny is your playground!

Larson, talking about Kayne: He bones English men into bread!

Kayne: My loins are very efficient.

Arthur: You know what’s better than drugs? Yorick: Pussy. Arthur: Friendship— no, what??

John: Nobody tops Arthur! It’s funny ‘cause I’m calling you a top. Kayne: Hell is impervious to snowmobiles, you dumbass!

Lilith: You mean you don’t phase your pussy?

Noel: What do you want, Arthur? Arthur: Men. Old men. Noel: Mmmm. How about we don’t say that?

Kayne: Pain is a personality trait.

John: You know what they say! At first you don’t succeed… Arthur: Kill yourself.

The Butcher: Please don’t quote me that I shit myself like a whale.

[ainnur]

*waddles back into ask-box from the void of nothingness*

Big fan of FrozenStar duo, how many headcanons do you have for them?

*👁️👁️ Suprise you didn't go this time heh*

Okay first most my hc is base on my au and my dynamic I want from them Here. And I don't have much of them. Some ask the hc once. Here.

Here more hc cuz why not?

•Bai He burried her dead cats on FFM with help of Wukong.

•Everytime Bai He saw peach theme food she randomly send it to Wukong. Wukong is wondering why there 2 troli full with peach flavor food when he wake up for a day

•MK and Wukong have games night. Bai He and Wukong have movie night. They just put some random movie mostly being mystery and like to shit the movie because bad it is or make theory about details they notice. They figure the ending not even half way the movie.

•Bai He actually didn't like peach that much. She just didn't like the taste but never tell Wukong about it. She love most of fruits, especially tropical fruits. Fruits can be rather exspensive but with Wukong she can eat all the fruits she want with no limites!

•Wukong once let her name one of the baby monkey and she didn't sleep for 3 days thinking of good name for the baby.

•They love flower! They know many random facts about the flower and just randomly talking about them while making flower crowns. With Wukong being master of art he is and Bai He just strugle everytime.

•They like to dye their hair together. The first times, is to help Bai He because she didn't like the white stroke of hair Lady Bone Demon left on her head. But the thing is that the dye can stick long on the white hair and easily fade a way in few days.

•Bai He like sitting near Wukong since Wukong is so warm all the time. It's effect from the furnace and Bai He have mix feeling when she found out like this.

•After training Wukong always give Bai He basket of fruits everytime they train. She then uses the fruits to make best peach theme of them

•They like sweet and sour candy! They just love them so much.! They like most of it.

•Wukong always bought or sew Bai He hoodie and other clothes since Bai He always cold. Even with trauma gotta look good right?

•They have matching hoodie with MK. The wear it when go hang out together

[canesugarinmytea]

Hey! (Same anon who requested the some what sibling relationship between Dabi and reader. Loved it btw 😂).

IDK if you're taking any more requests, but whether or not you do this is fine. So (another) Shoto x reader crack & fluff fic (heavy on the crack please), where Shoto is pissed over something and everyone just terrified, they're avoiding him to stay clear of his wrath. Reader loves Shoto with every bone in her body, but not enough to not be scared when he's mad too.

*Reader coming to check on Shoto*

Reader😥: "Hey~. . . How you doin'?" (Meme reference)

*Shoto sitting in the dark looking like a gremlin ready to claw someone's eye out*

Reader: "I brought you some food. . ." *Proceeds to shakily place it on the closest surface near the door*

Shoto: 👁️👁️

Reader: "Imma leave you alone now. . ." *Runs away in fear*

Shoto: *Still kinda mad, but wants to cuddle*

-Bonus-

Shoto😠: *Laying on top of Reader* "That b*tch (Endeavor), that ugly b*tch, that stupid b*tch."

Reader🤐: *trying not to laugh*

I wasn’t planning on taking any more requests, but I actually really like this one so I’ll work on it later !!

[schlattsdoll]

Speaking of filled, how about some breeding drabbles with schlatt? 👁️👄👁️ With some oral fixation for the tits? Lactation even? If you don't mind ofc!

minors dni

i just know this man would talk you through it ohmygod he’s amazing at it.

“gonna fuckin’ fill this pussy up till it’s leaking. want me to keep you full of my cum? fuck, can’t wait to see you all full of my kids. gonna make you a mommy baby.”

if you two fucked a normal amount before, you’re like rabbits now. he’s constantly ready to jump your bones and pump you full of his seed.

he makes good on his promise !! you two eventually having a lil baby girl (girl dad schlatt supremacy!!)

he notices your tits getting bigger and bigger and he can’t help himself. he already loved to suck on them, now he had a reason to. his mouth and tongue suckling on one nipple while the other was getting tended too by his large hand.

when you eventually start breastfeeding he wants to taste you so bad, he begs. and who are you to stop your big guy from getting what he wants?

he helps you pump any excess milk swelling up inside your breasts, of course using his hands but not being afraid to put the sensitive bud in his mouth and suck gently.

the taste of you is enough to make him practically cum in his pants, he can’t get enough.

“damn doll, might have to knock you up again just so i can keep tasting ya. oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? wanna be my little cumslut again, give our little girl a baby brother already?”

as always my requests are open!! please feel free to send them in 💚

[lilithschosen]

❛ don't just stand there, you tease. come here and let me taste. ❜

ehehehehehehehe 👁️👄👁️

The tv drones on in the background, some movie on a channel Agatha's barely paying attention to. Rio wasn't feeling the best tonight and she opted to go take a hot shower to try and recalibrate herself.

She has her legs up on the couch, one bent at the knee and the other flat against the cushions underneath her. With her hand tucked into the waistband of her joggers, she sighs at the comfort. It's snowing, something she'll deal with in the morning. Tonight was just for relaxing after a shitty week at work.

She runs her fingertips over her happy trail, the hair deepening in colour as it disappears into the joggers. She hums to herself, the fuzziness feeling nice.

Her hand moves down, the warmth of the living room sinking into her bones as she reaches between her thighs. She twirls her pubic hair around her fingertip before slipping them through her folds lazily.

She takes her time, not needing to quick rub one out before work or anything. She loses herself in her teasing, ghosting over her clit. When she sinks into her cunt, curls her fingers to the spot she likes and moans out loud.

Her hips grins into her hand, the swollen bundle of nerves now getting stimulation as she fucks herself. She speeds up, spreading her legs further to be able to thrust in the way she needs the most while grinding against her hand.

Her breaths become shallow and quick as she feels herself on the edge of her orgasm. Her eyes open just for a moment and connect with Rio, standing in front of her in a towel.

She cums immediately, caught in the act by her girlfriend as she cries out. She slams her fingers into her pussy once, twice, and a third final time as she rides through it.

Rio only smirks, tossing her wet hair over her shoulder as she watches Agatha take her hand out of her pants.

"Don't just stand there, baby."

Her tongue pokes out from between her lips as she licks up the one side of her fingers, tasting herself.

"You fucking tease."

Agatha smirks, holding her hand out in offering to Rio. "Come here and taste."

[eyezdrawz]

👁️INTRO POST👁️

Meet the artist!

Last updated: dec 24 '24

ASKS ARE OFF UNTIL DEC 28TH

Hi! I'm Eyez or Ken or Margo! My pronouns are he/him🏳️‍⚧️!!

I am a minor so please take that to mind when you talk to me, like, please don't be weird if your 18+

(purple: what I like most)

I like Pepsi and mt. Dew 🥤

Insta: eyecantibal

discord: eyecantibal

Art archive side blog: eyezreblogz

pfp by @/whattheheckins

DNI: Homophobes, Transphobes, p3dos, pr0shippers, racists, bigots, fascists, people who make AI "art", and other idiots

DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT REPOST MY ART WITHOUT CREDIT.

I believe in peace and freedom for every country (ESPECIALLY FOR THOSE IN NEED RIGHT NOW!🍉)

✏️What I post!: Art, music rants, random thoughts, and reblogs

Link to my ocs master post: https://eyezdrawz.tumblr.com/post/763241944591761408/oc-master-post

❤️Main interest!:

Camp here and there (my fav podcast and this is what I mainly draw/write about) (finished podcast)

Malevolent (two episodes i need to listen to)

TMA (finished podcast) (not caught up with tmagp)

Old gods of Appalachia (need to relisten to)

Interview with the vampire (TV show and movie, currently ready the books)

Hannibal NBC

Midnight Mass

Joker (2019)

The Stanley parable

FNAF

BG3

Dead plate

8:11

Tokyo ghoul

vampires

Cowboys

Vulture Culture/Bones

Heavy Gore/blood/body horror/Eldritch horror

Ocs (Santiago, Mikeal, Andias, and Bernadette)

And more!

🎵Music I listen to!

Will wood/will wood and the tapeworms (fav artist)

The Dear Hunter

Shayfer james

Amigo the devil

System of a down

The Hush sound

Hozier

Penelope Scott

Bear ghost

Tally Hall (and other tally hall related bands/members/projects)

Chonny Jash

And more!

All of my special interests/fixations: vampires, gore, gothic lit, bones, vulture culture, my favorite animals (deer, vampire deer (Siberian musk deer/Chinese water deer, wolves, hyenas, shrikes, maned wolves) human anatomy+medical terms and examination

Characters I relate too:

Armand from iwtv (I kin him so much it's not normal)

will graham from Hannibal

the butcher from malevolent

John doe from malevolent

Arther Fleck from joker 2019

random blinkies I like✌️: (i did not make these blinkies, all credits go to the people who made these) (chnt hourglass blinkie made by @/delicatecentipede)

Are you a writer? A poet? An artist? A singer? A creative person? Consider joining the poets discord! (14+)

https://discord.com/invite/nvq4nRkkXx