#Faint of Heart au(?)

[starry-bi-sky]

i have been unmedicated for the entirety of spring break and thus have had little interest in writing this down, but i have been thinking about this for the entire week (as well as a dpdc clone danny au that resulted in it becoming its entirely separate batman au that includes a teenage vigilante bruce wayne, an ocarina, and me entirely incapable of making a batman au without making bruce dirt poor but we're not talking about that) and so i've finally went 'fuck it' and forcibly grabbed my laptop. I will get this done in one sitting even if it kills me.

BUT. This is about neither clone^2 danny nor about who i am calling Ocarina Batman. This is about my Danyal Al Ghul Au and more SPECIFICALLY it's me thinking about his relationship with Sam and Tucker specifically.

Tucker and Sam? Adore this asshole (affectionate) with every fiber of their being. And it is very much a reciprocated feeling, but Danny's thoughts will not be delved into much other than he would kill for them.

Tucker? The only person currently capable of getting a deep, loud, belly laugh out of Danny. Sam can get him to smile and to laugh, but it's the kind that's a chuckle-under-the-breath. The quiet, looks-down-while-huffing laughter. Snorts once with laughter and then grins stupidly.

But Tucker? Tucker can crack a slew of stupid jokes and Danny will be incapacitated for the next five minutes because he's laughing so hard that he can't breath. He lands one well-timed pun or quip and Danny will be close to tears. His laughter is their favorite sound in the whole world.

Sam is lowkey jealous of this ability, and she's gotten a belly laugh out of Danny a few times. But alas, it is Tucker who wields this power and has gotten it the most times out of the two of them.

-

They're also both physically affectionate with Danny as much as possible. It started roughly around when they were 12-ish, a year since they befriended Danny, and they noticed that he sought after touch but never seemed to initiate (and was in some ways repulsed by it). They started slowly being more touchy with him. Hooking a finger around his to lead him somewhere, tapping his wrist, looping arms. Little touches, grabs, etc, to get him used to it, and once he started doing it back they started increasing it.

It's gotten to a point where he will now just. Lay on them. Like a lizard sunbathing on a rock. Leaning on their backs when they're sitting in class before the bell rings, his chin on their heads. He'll talk about anything with his arms looped around their shoulders.

If they're sitting on a couch at either of their houses, he'll lay his legs on theirs. Him and Tucker will press their feet against the other's and try and push against them (newsflash: Danny always wins, Tucker claims its the ghost strength but Danny's been winning since before his accident)

-

Naturally, both Sam and Tucker know where Danny keeps his weapons on his person, and are allowed to grab them off of him if they need it. His only requirement is that they don't lose his weapons if they take it and forget to return it immediately.

They both understand how big of a thing this is from Danny, and so they do their best to treat his weapons with a lot of respect and care because they know its his way of saying he trusts them.

-

Sam and Tucker are so fond of Danny it's insane. Like fr. That's their goddamn best friend, and they are so protective of him. Emotionally, physically, you name it. They will tear the head off a grown man if they need to, Danny's had scars since he arrived in Amity Park and Sam and Tucker both are going to find the person who put them there and make them pay for it.

One time, Tucker overheard a bunch of upperclass girls speaking nastily about Danny and about the rumors surrounding him, calling him names like 'freak', 'monster', etc. Danny was with him and heard it, and seemingly appeared unbothered by it, even telling Tucker that he was used to such rumors.

Tucker was so furious that hacked into the school system later that night and tanked those girls grades. They were kicked out of their clubs and had to go to mandatory tutoring for the rest of the year. He made sure to leave some way of letting them know it was him who did it.

And Sam doesn't like using her money for things, doesn't like abusing that wealth. So instead, whenever her parents talk bad about Danny, she causes a media incident that has her parents scrambling to deal with. She does something wild, outrageous by her parents' standards.

She heard some boys on the basketball team making fun of Danny once, similar to those girls had. She kicks up a fuss about something eco-unfriendly at school and forcibly holds a protest on the same day of the big home basketball game, forcing them to cancel the event and reschedule to a visiting school.

She anonymously donates money so that there's new uniforms for the team but oops! Looks like she "forgot" to donate enough money for them to get uniforms for all the team members, and strangely enough those boys in particular didn't get them! Looks like they'll have to wait until more money gets donated for the basketball team to get their new, nice uniforms. The old ones look so ratty in comparison, right?

And since the football team gets most of the sport money, that might just take awhile. And if (and when) they kick up a fuss? oops! Off the basketball team you go, :) such unsportsman-like behavior is unfit for the team.

(The only good thing about how corrupt the school system is is that she can use it to her advantage too.)

The both of them know that Danny suspects them for the sudden misfortune falling on these people, but he doesn't call them out on it. He's kinder than he used to be, but not kind enough to vouch for people who speak badly of him. Sometimes, he might just congratulate them on not getting caught.

Because Danny is their wonderful, hurt friend with a "slightly" Blue and Orange Moral code, and enough scars that people have been calling him a criminal (and worse) since he arrived in Amity Park when he was ten. And they'll be damned if he gets hurt anymore.

[dark-giver]

Oh, boy, now I understand why ,,It ends with us" and ,, Shatter me" have taken over booktok - booktokers will never be able to recover mentally if they read books like ,, Ninth house", ,,The poppy war" and ,,Red rising".

[abyssalic]

long time no see, babes!! heres a wip of one of the creatures thats going to be part of my beloved au!!

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Some more bleeding heart in the college AU!! +Starhopper★

Question time because it's been a while!

What would your bug major be in the college AU? And what's their favourite class?

@willowve01 @keyaartz @asmrbrainrot @iistxrmyskyii @astralbulldragon13 @piffany666 @littlesiren79 @aspenm00n @kaiamtt @stxph-artist @rustycopper4use @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @tiefling-chaos @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @not-5-rats @itsargyle @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @aces-oceans

[dairyfreenugget]

(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)

Hey hey hey

May I interest you in

(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)

Teehee

[baura-bear]

Guys I swear one day I will finish the cowboy au

[viciousbite]

// Open Starter, Michi, kimetsu no yaiba au. (your muse can be demon or human)

Sharp teeth tore into flesh as the Hound bit down onto the person’s forearm. Skin, muscle and nerves easily torn as blood splattered into his mouth. It was a slow bite, and jaws opened and closed the smallest amounts, the bite became a few within the same spot until at the end the roughness doubled. Flesh compressed within his mouth as the bite went through, ripping a whole chunk off the person’s arm before with a shook of his head he tore it off. The last few veins that latched on snapped off.

Chew chew, Michi savored the taste in his mouth before he swallowed the flesh down with the corners of his lips curled upwards in a smirk. “Aaa... I have tasted worse.” Michi commented, black tongue out as droplets of blood fell on the floor. “Thank you for letting me have a taste.” He chuckled, clearly had not asked for permission for the taste as he gently ran his finger over the person’s head. A good snack can have a pet on the head as a reward.

[welcome-to-the-districts]

Dear Rabbit

The final one-shot between GB and Mike. Major tw for blood, knives, violence, graphic descriptions and death. This fic is NOT for the faint of heart. You have been warned. One-shot under the cut. Best paired with this cover of I Know I’m A Wolf:

Mike, Greaseball’s beloved engineer, was sitting in Greaseball’s cab as the diesel rumbled down the lines in his rolling stock form. The diesel appeared identical to an Union Pacific E-Unit, with a few exceptions in the cab. The gauges and controls were the same. However, within the very front of the cab, nestled next to the gauges was a voice modulator that would illuminate whenever the diesel spoke. Yet, the diesel had no eyes, mouth or face in this form, looking no different than any ordinary diesel. The lantern on the engine’s front acted as a thermal sensor, allowing Greaseball to sense objects or people in front of him, similar to how a snake is able to seek out prey or danger. The diesel could still hear, but to speak was more done electronically. 

Mike shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he peered out one of the windows in Greaseball’s cab to help keep an eye out for danger. Mike enjoyed the scenic passenger railway. It took a route through the beautiful countryside, which was where they were now, having dropped off the last passenger train for the day. The coaches all went their separate ways, no doubt going out to have fun together. The town was a few miles away still. However, with Greaseball’s speed, the diesel could easily cut the speed in half or even more. Once he was sure, the path was clear for now, he leaned back in his seat before lifting his foot up into his lap. He had managed to get a small rock stuck in the rubber sole of his boot and it had started to take a toll on him during the times he had to get out of Greaseball’s cab to stretch his legs or to speak with the stationmaster. Since Greaseball was keeping an eye out for dangers, there was no harm in trying to get it out and to alleviate the pain. Better off to do it now then to wait after work.

Mike grabbed his pocket knife and flipped it open, revealing the sharp blade in a flash of steel. He had often used it as a tool for helping workers cutting the straps on the freight trucks while he was still working in the freight yard before Poppa had attacked him. He held his boot still with one hand and used the other to try and gently pry the small rock out of the rubber sole of his boot. His movements were slow and careful. He remained mindful of the sharp blade, not wanting to risk accidentally cutting himself. However, he nor Greaseball were exactly notified of a rough piece of track that had become slightly warped during the summer heat. Greaseball spotted the threat and slowed down, taking it easy in an attempt to make the ride more comfortable for Mike.

Mike inhaled sharply and cursed as the sharp blade pierced the skin of his palm. Blood oozed from the wound as he quickly took the knife out of his palm and pressed the wound against his work pants, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. He froze and a sense of dread washed over him as he saw Greaseball’s voice modulator light up. Mike knew the danger of the situation. If he could just keep Greaseball’s focus, he could stand a chance.

“Mikey! Mikey! Are you okay?! I heard you curse. Are you hurt?” Greaseball’s voice was riddled with worry. Mike gritted his teeth as he hissed in pain. The blood was starting to soak through the leg of his pants. He could feel the warm wet crimson fluid soaking through his pants leg and onto his skin. Not good. He’d have to go to the hospital to get it stitched up. That made things worse. He wouldn’t have to worry about Greaseball alone. The other rolling stock in the area could turn on him. He had seen it once. The sounds were something that never truly left his mind after all those years. Mike knew diesels were powerful predators at times. He had to stay calm. Panicking would only make it worse.

“I’m fine, Grease.. just a little scratch is all. Don’t worry about me.” Mike replied behind clenched teeth. He tried to hide the amount of pain he was in but the strain in his voice told Greaseball all he needed to know. Greaseball’s voice modulator remained illuminated, but the diesel was hesitant to speak, as if he were skeptical of Mike. Greaseball knew Mike all too well, and Mike was the same with the diesel.

“Mikey.. you’re hurt. I can pull into a siding and you can patch up that wound so we can head back. I don’t feel comfortable carrying on like this knowing you’re hurt. I want to make sure you’re okay.” Greaseball’s tone of voice was genuine. The diesel was unaware of the danger he posed to his beloved engineer. Mike wanted to let Greaseball pull into a siding so his wound could be examined better, but he knew it wasn’t worth the risk. He shook his head, knowing the diesel couldn’t see it.

“You don’t understand, Grease. It’s dangerous.” Mike said. He wanted to explain why he was so hesitant, but how does one explain the more monstrous side of the rolling stock to one of their own kind who was unable to even experience such a moment. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he needed to get away from the diesel and fast. He couldn’t set foot out of the diesel’s cab. It was the safest place for him at the moment. He glanced at the radio, considering calling for help if needed. He knew the situation was a scary one and he didn’t like it. 

“Mike.. Please.. Listen to me, I don’t want you to pass out and die… let alone die in my cab.” Geraseball pleaded with the man. That was when the world began to spin around Mike. The cut was much worse than he had previously thought. That was when he knew he had to get it patched up. He had to get a better look at it. Greaseball needed to pull into a siding and now. He knew it was stupid and dangerous, but he needed to stop the bleeding before he could do anything else. There was a moment of silence from Mike before he sighed.

“Okay, pull into a siding, Grease. I need to patch my hand up. It’s pretty bad.” Mike mumbled. He hears a sigh of relief from the diesel and the light of the voice modulator faded. Mike clung to his seat as he felt Greaseball ease to a gentle stop in a siding. Mike stood up and he felt like the world was spinning in circles around him. He steadied himself against the cab door and held his injured hand close to his work shirt. He knew there was a medkit close to the door. He could use the supplies to patch himself up. He reached for the medkit on the side of the door before his legs gave out and he collapsed on the metal floor. He heard Greaseball cry out his name before Mike fell to the ground. Within seconds, Greaseball had shifted back to his humanoid form. He towered over Mike as his gaze was riddled with concern. Mike quickly and frantically tried to wrap the bottom of his work shirt around his injured palm. He trembled as the diesel’s shadow loomed over him. 

“Grease, please, get back in your rolling stock form.” Mike looked up at him with his eyes wide with fear as he scrambled to stand up. Sheer adrenaline giving him a second wind. He scrambled to find his footing, falling to the ground once more. He was like an injured rabbit being cornered by a half starved wolf. He was an easy target, easy prey.

“Mike, I can carry you back. You’re not fit to work. Mike, please..” Greaseball knelt down as he tried to get a look at Mike’s injured hand, only for Mike to quickly pull his hand away from the diesel. Mike dared to meet Greaseball’s gaze. His golden eyes were warm and soft, riddled with worry. The animal wasn’t rearing its ugly head. Perhaps he misjudged the diesel after all. He knew Greaseball had a point and he didn’t like it. He could pass out in the cab at this rate.

“Are you sure, Grease?” Mike asked. Greaseball smiled gently, giving Mike a glimpse of those razor sharp teeth and Mike nearly shuddered. He knew what Greaseball was capable of. He had seen it in the diesel’s records. Greaseball offered a large hand to Mike and the old man nearly took up on the diesel’s offer, then paused. Something was off and he knew it. He locked eyes with Greaseball to make sure and fear quickly settled in. His eyes were feral and the diesel bore a wolfish grin that would make even the bravest soul shudder. 

“No.. Grease NO!” Mike cried out as he scrambled to his feet.

…

The sweet scent of blood hit the diesel’s nose and it was oh so tantalizing. Mike looked so small and helpless, injured and afraid. Something in the deepest recesses of his mind clawed at him, bent on getting out of its cage. Greaseball couldn't quite understand what was happening and he felt a mix of fear and dread. No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He tried to smile to hide the inner turmoil as he trembled. The scent of blood and the sight of such a small and broken prey item was far too much to pass up. Mike was no longer the man, the friend he once knew. He was prey. Greaseball let out a growl that shook the ground as he opened his jaws slightly. His fangs glistened in the evening sun. He couldn’t exactly understand what was going on and he struggled to fight against it. He tried to speak but the words were caught in his throat. He wanted to scream at Mike, tell him to run and hide before he gets hurt. The only sound that came from him was a feral snarl.

The old man’s body language made the beast run rampant, encouraging it further, as if it were enjoying watching the man’s suffering. Greaseball could feel himself losing control as he slipped away and the beast took the wheel. He was no longer the diesel Mike once knew. He was now a blood-thristy monster. The true nature of the rolling stock reared its ugly head and Mike was going to experience it first hand. 

…

Mike scrambled onto his feet as Greaseball stood up on his toe stops on his skates before the diesel began to slowly close the distance between them, as if the diesel were a great lion, having cornered a small gazelle, once agile and quick, now injured and weak. Mike had to act quickly. He spotted the glint of steel from his pocket knife and quickly picked it up as tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn’t want to harm the diesel, but he had to defend himself. He flipped the knife open and brandished it. He felt a twinge of guilt as he did this. He couldn’t harm the diesel that he was so near and dear to. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. The diesel stopped, analyzing the blade from a distance before he snarled, clearly agitated. Mike took a step back, keeping the blade pointed at the diesel.

“Grease.. I don’t want to hurt you. I know you’re still there, Grease.” Mike said with a hoarse and shaking voice. He knew it was shot in the dark, but he was willing to take that chance if it meant getting his friend back. Greaseball’s gaze softened and his expression fell to one of fear and Mike;s heart sank. Greaseball was as terrified as he was.

“Mike-” Greaseball’s tone of voice was one of fear. The diesel was terrified, unsure of what was going on. Before he could continue his sentence, the diesel’s instincts took the wheel again and his eyes became feral once again. His expression hardened into a snarl. The diesel lunged and Mike went to slice at the diesel, only for him to watch in horror as it didn’t even dent the metal plating on the diesel’s body. Greaseball hit the man square in the chest, knocking the breath out of the man and knocking him back. Mike cried out as his pocket knife was wrenched from his grasp, and tumbled just out of reach. Mike let out a silent cry of pain as he felt a sharp pain in his chest with every breath he took. It was a miracle he survived such a blow, unless Greaseball was toying with him, like how a cat plays with a mouse before devouring it. 

Mike struggled to get up as he gasped for breath, only for Greaseball to lunge at him again, slamming the man back down onto the ground before the diesel slammed his large hands on the ground, one on each side of Mike. Mike’s fear turned to sheer panic as Greaseball opened his powerful jaws as the diesel salivated in anticipation. The strands of drool glistened and oozed onto Mike’s skin and uniform. Mike was frantically trying to push the diesel off of him, pressing back against the diesel’s head. He grabbed one of the diesel’s ears and pulled it hard to try and snap Greaseball out of it. Greaseball screeched as his expression contorted to one of agony and anger. For a moment, he saw Greaseball’s gaze soften again. The fear in the diesel’s eyes was heart wrenching. Greaseball didn’t know how to stop this. This was the first time he had ever experienced anything like this. The diesel’s gaze turned feral once more as Greaseball growled deep in his chest and began to push back against Mike.

Greaseball was barely putting any effort into it, if any at all. Greaseball was choosing to barely exert any strength, as if he wanted to draw this out as much as he could and savor every second of it. His jaws snapped feverishly  again and again as the diesel tried to get the man’s neck. Mike could feel his strength fading and he knew he was losing. Mike had to make a choice. He could fight and give himself time  or give in and let the beloved diesel kill him. He recalled the attack from Poppa. It felt just as hopeless in this situation but he knew what to do. He immediately removed his hand from the diesel before covering his neck and screaming as loud as he could. He hoped the sound of his screams could catch someone’s attention, but the town was miles away. It was a slim chance, but he was willing to take it. He hoped he could hold out until Greaseball finally snaps out of it. However, in the heat of the moment he forgot one crucial fact.

 Diesels don’t aim for the windpipe like how steamers do. They aim for the back of the neck, the spinal cord. They used their powerful jaws to sever the spinal cords of their prey, allowing them to feed at their leisure, regardless if their prey is still alive or not.

Greaseball growled in irritation before raising a large hand and striking Mike on the side of the head. It was a tap to the diesel, but a devastating blow to Mike. Mike was forced onto his side from the blow as blood trickled down the side of his head as he screamed in pain, using a hand to cover the wound.

That was when the diesel purred. He saw what he was after. Greaseball pressed one of his large hands against Mike’s head to hold the man down as he lowered his head towards the back of the man’s neck. Mike panicked as he realized his mistake before he scrambled to try and cover the back of his neck. He felt the hot breath of the diesel rolling down his neck. Mike let out a blood curdling scream as he felt the immense sharp pain of Greaseball’s teeth easily piecing his soft flesh. He felt the pressure building before he quickly started  losing the feeling of everything below his neck as he heard a sickening crunch. There was a flash of white, then darkness.

…

Greaseball was quick to devour the corpse. His jaws easily crushing bone as his teeth easily sliced through flesh. The sweet taste of blood was enchanting to him. The scent of it only drove him mad as he devoured what he could. The warmth of the fresh kill, the scent and taste of blood, all was to be savored. The diesel purred deep in his chest as he fed, sounding like a giant house cat having caught a mouse and was finally able to enjoy his meal after a hunt. Once he was done, he licked the last bits of blood, the sweet nectar of life itself, off of his fingers and from around his mouth.

Greaseball relaxed after having devoured his most recent kill and he finally felt the beast retreat and he was able to regain control. He nearly collapsed but caught himself with his hands on the ground. He couldn’t remember much. It happened so fast. He tasted and smelled something sweet and he glanced down at the ground. He trembled as shock and horror flooded his mind. 

There was very little left of Mike. All that was left were splinters of bone, torn pieces of the man’s uniform and blood that stained the grass beneath him. The diesel stood up, looking at his hands, seeing they were licked clean. Tears welled up in his eyes before he screamed, a pained sound that could be heard for a good distance. He had done the unthinkable. Mike, was gone.

[daisychainsandbowties]

i think i came back wrong from that blood test

[havockingboo]

Half tempted nah HEAVILY tempted to add ‘Everywhere At The End Of Time’ tracks to the EC AU Playlist 💀 specifically the YT vers cause it’s the more ‘feeling uneasy, unsettling’ version you know… it captured the atmosphere perfectly but MAN I ain’t about to make everyone and myself feel THAT uneasy HAH

[thetrenderchronicles]

Broken Wings and Shattered Screams

WING AU: Brian Thomas Centric

Trigger/Content Warnings: angst, mentions of suicidal thoughts, semi-graphic torture, bodily mutilation, dead dove: do not eat, DONT READ IF YOU CANT HANDLE

Word Count: 2094 words

Tags: @shreeader @charl13x​ (if you wanna be added, let me know)

It was supposed to be a normal recon mission. Brian had done this for years. He'd sneak around, making sure no one got too close to flock territory and kill those who did. That or lead hunters away and then kill them. Either way, Brian was one of the best of the best scouts and killers of the group. He knew how to travel mostly undetected and he could kill someone in complete silence.

Normally, flock rules were to always have someone with you. A buddy system, if you will. Hoody tended to work better alone or only work with Masky. As Brian would work with Tim. However, Tim was busy with his family and helping the flock adjust to their new home thanks to hunters infiltrating their last home. Both Brian and Hoody wanted revenge.

Thankfully, Alex stood up and convinced Tim to let Brian go alone, saying he had survived seven years alone. Brian could handle a simple recon mission. Tim had a bad feeling in his gut, but he let Brian go anyway. Only, Brian never came back.

Hoody followed a group of hunters, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His wings lightly bristled in the wind, gently brushing some leaves. A smile crept onto his face and he pounced. An animalistic screech rang out followed by the sound of flesh being ripped apart before it all went silent.

“Tim!” Jay called, anxiously, blue and gray wings fluttering nervously. He, Alex, and Tim were on a mission to find Brian. He should have returned by then. “I found something!”

Tim ran over, footsteps thumping along the ground. “It had better be good,” he growled, protective instincts flaring. There was a reason he was known as Papa Birb Tim. “What the hell did you find?”

“Umm, Tim, calm down,” Jay nervously said, moving his wing to the side to reveal blood, Brian’s torn hoodie, and a note. Tim’s wings flared out with silent rage. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Jay!” Tim bellowed. Jay shrank back.

“Tim, Brian’s most likely still alive,” Alex snapped, black wings tightly folded behind his back. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Jay just found this. If anything, be mad at me. I convinced you to let Brian go alone.” He squatted down and looked over the note, facial expressions grim. “Fuck.”

Brian screamed, pulling against the chains that secured his arms above his head. His wings violently flapped, slamming against the wall behind him, adding to the pain in his back. He snarled and snapped at anyone who got close to him, teeth clicking as they snapped together. He squirmed and tugged at the chains, metal digging into the flesh of his wrists.

“Well, well, well,” Doctor Harrison drawled, walking toward Brian, looking from the man to his clipboard. “Brian Thomas,” he clicked his pen. “You’ve been quite the thorn in my side. But don’t worry. This could all be over soon. Did you leave the note, my dear?”

“Yes, I did, Doctor,” Nurse Chaplan nodded with a gleeful smile. She waved to Brian. “Miss me?” Brian growled and spat at her. She narrowed her eyes.

“Now now,” Harrison spoke, interrupting the hostility. He glared at his nurse and ordered her to go check on some tests. As she left, he turned and harshly grabbed Brian’s chin, forcing him to look the doctor in the eyes. “Here’s the deal, Brian,” he cooed, eyes flashing dangerously. “You can get out of here safe and sound if your friends get here in time. If not,” he glanced back at his surgical equipment. “If not, then we are going to have a lot of fun.”

Brian’s eyes were blown wide and his wings subconsciously shuddered in fear. He forced himself to keep calm and not hyperventilate. Harrison let go of him and stepped back, jotting down notes onto his clipboard.

They had to come for him. They had to. Brian looked at the clock across the room, the hands and the ticking seemed to haunt him. With each passing minute, Brian lost a little hope. Twenty minutes to six o’clock. His arms hurt from being held above his head for so long. The operating room was cold. Too cold for Brian.

His mind wandered back to the past. He remembered Tim always acting annoyed when he’d go to bed alone and wake up with everyone in his nest. He remembered Jay being in his bird form, sitting on Jessica’s shoulders whenever she would go into town for food and supplies. Alex would always help where he was needed, part of him still working on forgiving himself for falling victim to the Operator. Everyone had long forgiven him, but Alex still had to forgive himself. Brian didn’t know he had started crying until he heard the teardrops hit the floor.

Ten minutes left. Tim pushed himself to fly faster. He traveled through intervals of running and flying. Jay and Alex struggled to keep up with him. Tim had to get Brian before he was killed. Brian was Tim’s first and only true friend. Tim remembered how they first met. Both bumped into each other when their two highschools had their graduation parties at the same complex. They ended up ditching the party to hang out at Applebee’s. Then, it all just happened.

Rain clouds gathered in the sky, light droplets falling to the earth. Soft thunder rolled in the distance and the pitter patter of the droplets hitting the leaves and puddles almost helped to calm the trio's nerves. Almost. Less than five minutes. Alex narrowed his eyes and pushed his tired, sore limbs harder.

—

Brian's entire body flinched as Doctor Harrison and Nurse Chaplan returned, both gleefully eyeing the surgical equipment. A pit of anguish and betrayal grew in Brian's stomach. They…they didn't come. Tears brimmed Brian's baby blue eyes.

"It's okay to cry," Harrison faked sympathy. "This is going to be very, very painful." He picked up a saw and handed Nurse Chaplan a pair of large tweezers. "Oh, such a shame your friends didn't come. I guess you're not as important as you think you are."

"Shut up!" Brian screamed, eyes blazing with fury. Those were the first words he had spoken since he got there. Hoody tried to take control back from Brian, but Brian's fear and stubbornness wouldn't let him. "SHUT UP!"

"Ooh, touchy subject," Chaplan giggled. "It was only a matter of time before your usefulness ran out and they'd leave you alone."

Brian shook his head. "No, no, no, you're wrong!" He snapped, lunging forward, chains clanging as they held Brian back. He clenched his fists and pulled with all of his strength. He hissed in pain as the irritated flesh burned as the metal dug deeper.

"Keep screaming," Harrison chuckled, shaking his head. "No one will hear you. Are you ready for our fun to begin?"

"I won't tell you anything," Brian hissed, glaring daggers at the two. Despite being abandoned, Brian was still loyal. He wouldn't destroy his friends because he's suffering. "Do your worst!" he spat.

"Oh," Chaplan cupped Brian's face with her hand, tweezers in her other hand. "We plan to." Brian went to bite her and, quick as flash, she snatched her hand back. She pushed a button on the wall and the chains lowered Brian's hands enough for her to reach them without being uncomfortable.

Brian screeched and tried to keep his hands away from her. Her nails dug into his palms and his talons came out. "No, no, please!" Brian whimpered, realization dawning. "Don't do this…AHHH!" He wailed as she yanked a talon out. Blood spurt onto her face and arms, but she didn't care. Brian's body jerked and tensed, throat raw from dehydration and pained screams. Blood dropped down to the tiled floor. Brian's knees gave out and he hung from his arms, tears streaming down his face.

"Hmm, I figured you'd have more of a pain tolerance," Chaplan hummed, cleaning the tweezers before going to the next hand. Brian weakly struggled and sobbed. "Oh, don't do that. I promise to be gentle." A sickening snap rang out as the next five talons were ripped out.

Black spots danced across Brian's vision. His hands burned and stung. Blood covered his hands and floor beneath him. His fingers were now shorter. The fight had left his body. He tried to fight as he was manhandled into a lying position. His boots and socks were forced off. "Please, stop," he whispered, throat shredded from screaming. He banged his head back against the cement. His mind flashed back to the fall and he struggled again. Pain spread through his wings that were pinned beneath him.

"Ten more to go, Brian," Chaplan cooed. "You're doing so well." She started the process again.

"Go to hell," Brian spat blood to the side. He cried out as Harrison harshly kicked his side. "Don't be rude, Brian. This is to better you." He laughed as Brian screamed. Ten more snaps rang out over the span of a few minutes. Chaplan's face, hands and arms were drenched with blood.

Brian's eyes rolled to the back of his head, the pain too much to bear. Yet, he wasn't granted the sweet release of unconsciousness. They forced him to stay awake. He barely registered being forced into standing position, feet in white hot agony. Only when his wings were pulled to full length did he perk up.

"No, no, no, not that!" Desperation filled his voice, eyes wide with pain and horror. "Please, no! I'll do anything! Anything!" He screeched. "Tim help please!" he sobbed, head drooping. "Alex, Jay, anyone, please! TIM!" He screamed and struggled, eyes bulging as air was forced from his hand. Harrison punched Brian's gut again.

"Quiet, this will soon be over, Brian." He took the surgical saw and stepped behind Brian. "Feel free to scream as loud as you can." He pressed the blade to the root of Brian's wing.

A bloodcurdling, anguished scream rang out. Brian's body went limp, all energy and fight gone. Blood splattered everywhere. Pain clouded his vision and mind. Brian begged for Tim to save him. He apologized and screamed, praying Tim would come save him. But, no one came. Two weights were lifted from his back.

"I thought you could have screamed louder," Harrison shrugged, dropping the two wings in front of Brian, forcing the man to look at what was taken from him. Brian sobbed, body sagging. "Shame." He gripped Brian's face. "Your mother did." Brian wailed, eyes full of hatred and agony.

"Chaplan, send the bill to Andrew. I'm sure he'd love to pay for this," Harrison manically grinned. "I'll tell your father you said thank you," he taunted before pushing Brian back. The chains let him go and Brian's head hit the floor, allowing him to finally go unconscious.

—

The rain washed away the blood that pooled under Brian's body. He couldn't move, body too spent to do anything but feel pain. Tears mixed with rain water slid down his cheeks. He peeled his eyes open and stared up at the clouds. The ground beneath his body was muddy and soft. Brian prayed for death. He wanted to die. Then the pain would go away. Then, Tim and the others wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.

He barely registered someone crying out and pulling his body into their lap. Brian made a soft noise of pain. The other hugged him tightly, whispering apologies. " 'im," Brian's words slurred together. " 'm sorry, 'm sorry. Tr'ed t' fight ba…back." Brian slipped back into unconsciousness.

Tim sobbed harder. He gently held Brian close and attempted to bring him back to the Flock. He blamed himself for being late. He, Alex, and Jay had gotten there at 6:04, but Brian was gone. Back at the Flock, Brian was treated by Amy and Sarah, both trying to keep their tears to a minimum. The whole night was a horrible nightmare.

Afterwards, Brian was placed in the middle of the cuddle pile. Tim held Brian. Surrounded by family and comfort, dull blue eyes opened, but it wasn't Brian who woke up. Hoody glared at the ceiling thinking of all the ways he could imagine to torture and kill Harrison, Chaplan, and Brian's father.

Brian Thomas died that day. Hoody failed to protect him. Now, Hoody wanted revenge. And revenge is what he will get. A cruel smile crept onto his face. Yes, Hoody would avenge Brian and every other Winged who suffered at Harrison's hand.

[snootysith]

... This sequel to For the Present is running away from me. It was just supposed to be a fun romp with Marr at a zoo. Now there's political intrigue, a kidnapping plot, unrequited lust from an unlikely source, and a succession crisis.

House Vowrawn is a hot mess.

Marr is reconsidering his marriage.

[stolligaseptember]

don't make me write an essay on why lwj is anne elliott in persuasion aus

[dxllhcuse]

🎎 Aksncndijss :( || Crack

🎎 out of the dollhouse || OOC

🎎 Everybody please like my art || Toon’s Art

🎎 Tired of wishing I was ditching || Kimetsu Academy AU

🎎 She is a child and a mannequin and death || Ishimatsu

🎎 I am not the type to faint When things are odd or things are quiant || Karakuri

🎎 Children shouldn’t play with dead things || Kokeshi

🎎 Spinning all around and now we fall || Iki

🎎 What an unusual view! || Dash Commentary

🎎 If I show my fangs will you tell me that they're cool? || Headcanons

🎎 ghouls and ghosts inhabit dolls || Aesthetic

🎎 Throw on your dress and put on a doll faces || IC

🎎 I see things that nobody else see || Musings

🎎 it’s queue time || Queue

🎎 something’s gone seriously wrong || Promo

🎎 As the children laugh, the children play || Ask meme

[crossroadsdimension]

It's kinda nuts to think about, but...

Eight years ago in 2016, the Gravity Falls AU that became The Puppet AU popped into my head and refused to leave. And then I started uploading it to AO3 about a year later.

Do I regret coming up with it? Well, parts of it, sure. I think I let myself get a bit too dark with some part of it.

But all of it? Not really.

The only thing I regret right now is that I haven't done more to right the wrongs I've left dangling in Kitsune!Ford's past.

I'll get back to them someday.

In the meantime, though, I've got other fics to write and finish....

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.

author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...

"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"

you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.

it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.

satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.

he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"

you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"

satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.

the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.

"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."

satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."

you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.

your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.

so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.

smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.

he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.

suguru-geto: haha i already knew

toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?

yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??