#is a cool idea

[write-kin]

🥄 for cal? (specifically im thinking blood, if u need a suggestion c: )

anon. i like your mind.

🥄- Force Feeding

-

Cal isn't sure... why it disgusts him right now. He's drank blood well and fine before. Normally, he has to keep himself in check at the sight of it.

But now, the sight of the blood pouring from the poor bandit's neck simply makes him want to throw up. He's not sure if he can throw up, but his stomach definitely wants to test the theory.

In front of him, Montresor wrenches the man's head back, prying open his jaw, pulling out the vial of holy water the man had clenched between his teeth.

"Hm. Surprising this one managed to get so far in. He couldn't even crush the glass like they normally do." Cal's eyes traced the arc of the vial as it was thrown into the fire.

Montresor shifted back towards him, holding the dead man by the neck. He opened his mouth to speak, before seemingly noticing Calamine's state- sat back in the armchair he'd been manhandled into, curled up, looking so pale he was almost blue, face a carefully measured show of disgust. If he could be sweating, he would be.

Montresor tsks, a glimmer of concern in his eyes. He pulls Cal's legs down, moving him so his legs are crossed, hands down on his lap. Calamine wants to protest, wants to swat his hands away and go back to the far more comfortable ball he'd pulled himself into, but he couldn't.

He wasn't sure if it was because of the blood magic or something else. The idea of moving felt like a monumental task, and he thought he might pass out during it.

Calamine watches, head resting against the back of the chair, as Montresor takes one of the wine glasses from the nearby table, and like one would squeeze juice from an orange, eases the blood into it.

The scent of it is metallic, and Cal can't bring himself to stare at it for too long. It's nauseating, the way it shifts, the thin film it leaves on the glass. He closes his eyes.

The next thing he knows, Montresor is standing over him, holding the glass to his lips.

And Calamine does something stupid. He turns his head to the side, away from the glass, from the foul-smelling liquid.

"No."

"No?"

Montresor's voice is low, soft, dangerous. Too carefully, he tilts Calamine's head back, holding the glass so the rim juts between Cal's lips, the unpleasant sensation of glass bumping against his teeth. Cal dares to open his eyes, and Montresor's stern crimson eyes meet his own. They're doing the thing again, where they don't seem to reflect light, and Calamine tumbles forwards mentally.

"Open," Montresor says, and Cal's mouth opens up enough for the glass to be tipped in. The blood coats his tongue, and instead of the thick, sweet, metallic taste he's used to, it's disgusting. It feels like it's curdling on his tongue, like too-old milk, like it's drying up.

There's a glimmer in Montresor's eyes, the slight furrow of his brows, all telling Cal that he's worried. He's concerned. When has Montresor ever been concerned for him like this?

Before long, the liquid fills his mouth, and a little dribbles down his chin. Not needing to breathe means you can't choke other than on reflex, so he doesn't swallow. For some reason, the idea is repulsive, and he wants to cough it up. Monstresor pulls the glass away, and gently- concerningly so- closes Cal's mouth, tipping his head up in a way that forces him to swallow.

The moment he does, the moment Montresor lets go, Calamine sputters, coughs, the blood left in his mouth spattering onto his gloves, in a way that would be concerning if it was his own blood. He wipes it away from his chin, smearing it a little, and in his mind's eye he looks almost feral.

There's Montresor's hand in his hair, the claws of his gauntlets being moved too-carefully so as not to hurt Cal, and the glass is pressed to his lips again. He has a little more fight in him this time, but it's no use. The copper taste slides down his throat, thick and cloying and awful, until it is gone. Until he is let go, and he can slump down, nausea rolling over in his stomach and unable to go anywhere.

His head hurts. He wants to sleep. He barely has enough energy, all of a sudden, to process these thoughts.

Instead, like an animal, he has fed, and the exhaustion drops upon him like a thick fur blanket. Not that he could sleep with how awful he feels. All he can do is focus on the horrible taste in his mouth, how Montresor stares down at him, how small and exhausted and vulnerable he feels all of a sudden.

It's not a good feeling.

[tawnysoup]

Found my fav Slay the Princess route recently. Dragon my beloved. Your horrifying beak mouth was an impossible-to-refuse lip syncing challenge 💖

Shoutouts to @blacktabbygames for making such a cool game!

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[illumerie]

all of humanity in his hands

[chloesimaginationthings]

Poppy playtime got a guy worse than William Afton

[lukadarkwater]

Izzy when they accused her and then called her cool has the same energy as this meme and I can't unsee it

[prlssprfctn]

Dick is kind of a big brother who knows what effect he has on his siblings's friends, and he never misses an opportunity to make himself look even cooler in their eyes. But Jason? Oh, Jason has no idea that people even consider him pretty and interesting.

It pisses his siblings even more.

Jason, on his bike, with the most insane face card: Hey, Replacement, hop on. We have work to do.

Kon, twirling his hair: Is your brother, like... free?

Bernard: Yeah, on Friday

Tim, with his eye twitching: I will kill you.

Jason, absolutely unaware of what is going on: ??? WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO

***

Jon, waving enthusiastically at Jason, who passes by kitchen: Jason is so cool!

Damian: ...

Jon: And kind!

Damian: Calling Todd kind is definitely a choice.

Jon: But he read me a bedtime story the last time I was staying here 😕

Damian, frowning: ...

(Damian, later that day: Why did you read bedtime story to Jon and not me.)

***

Jason: Why Tim's and Damian's friends keep fucking glaring at me? Or stumble when I am around? What tf am I doing wrong?

Dick, trying to hide his laughter: Eh, no idea

Bruce, absentmindedly: I, actually, have the same problem when I am around other people

Alfred, amused: No DNA test required, that's for sure

[stealingpotatoes]

@dinlukeweek day 1: No Order 66 AU / Rebellion Era

obvs Luke likes Din for a lot of reasons, but there's one VERY specific plus side for the (very overshadowed) fix-it au Luke loll

(commission info // tip jar!)

[cracklewink]

My Mane 6 Redesigns all together! I was going to post them separately but ended up finishing them all before I got around to it lol

[bacchuschucklefuck]

couldnt draw my thang for mid-autumn so treated myself to a calne redesign instead

[clownowo]

do you ever think about the parents of the rest of the gang during Summer Belongs to You. like. their children were gone for well over 24 hours.

[noodles-and-tea]

Continuation of this

[rvnclyd]

art prints ♡

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

PnF Spirit Week 1: May 22nd - Identity Reveal

Agent Ps have all the worst luck I guess.

[bookwyrminspiration]

if you all could see all the fanart i imagine in my head and never draw it’d blow your tits clean off