#I hate eyes I hate hate hate hate drawing the pupil and deciding how to make it look normal cause all I do it draw a circle and call it a

[puppyeared]

I hate drawing eyewssssss

[steddiealltheway]

Has this been done yet? (Oh, this is so much longer than intended)

Everyone knows Eddie is in love with Steve. It's not like he really tries to hide it. He's always flirting with him, taking up all his personal space, and finding excuses to constantly hang out with him.

The only person who refuses to believe this is Steve. He insists that Eddie is just dramatic, so all his feelings are larger than life, and flirting is just second nature to him. Really, it means nothing. Although Steve wants it to mean something.

He's come to terms with being bisexual after a quick discussion with Robin about what his feelings for Eddie meant. And really, after discovering a universe that is the parallel Hell to his own, being bi is the least of his concerns.

On the other hand, Eddie Munson is one of his greatest concerns. Every time Eddie flirts with him, his brain goes perfectly blank. And it doesn't help that Steve gets so distracted by the man's damn lips. But Steve can tell it's all just a part of who Eddie is. He draws people in until they're utterly enamored with him, and his means of flirting is his way of drawing Steve in.

Honestly, hearing everyone trying to convince him that Eddie has feelings for him just makes Steve uncomfortable because none of them have confirmation from Eddie about it. And it just fills the room with a weird tension whenever Eddie and Steve are with anyone else. Eddie has brought it up a few times with a quick whispered, "Why is everyone staring at us?" And Steve just brushes it off until Eddie moves onto some random topic that has Steve dropping everything he's doing to listen.

But one day when Eddie's at Family Video, he's grabbing a tape and suggesting him and Steve should watch it at nine that night. Steve instantly agrees which has Eddie fanning himself and flirting, "Watching a movie with the Steve Harrington. How will I ever be able to recover?"

Steve leans in and finally flirts back, "It's a date." Which has Eddie freezing in a place a moment before he clears his throat and slow-mo punches the counter.

"It's a date," Eddie confirms without his usual bravado that has Steve finally noticing it. The dilated pupils, the way his eyes flicker to his lips, the way he licks his lips when he leans in, and just the general soft look he gets when he looks at him.

Eddie likes him. And Steve is about to pull out all the moves at his trailer tonight.

Eddie leaves a bit after that, not sticking around like he usually does, but he tells Robin he has a date to prepare for when she comes out of the breakroom. As soon as he's out the door, Steve is spilling everything to Robin who agrees to help him before his date.

A few hours later, and a lot of arguments over outfits later, Steve is showing up on Eddie's doorstep with flowers in his hands. Eddie opens the door and accepts them with a laugh. "What a kind date you are," Eddie says and welcomes Steve inside.

Steve looks around and takes note of how the trailer doesn't really look any different, and Eddie hasn't changed since he left, so Steve's unsure of what he was preparing for unless... He shakes his head. Too soon.

Eddie flops down on the couch and offers Steve a beer which he gladly accepts to calm his nerves a bit. He sits right in Eddie's space and puts his arm around the back of the couch. Eddie looks at him and jokes, "And I thought you hated when I got in your personal space." Nonetheless, he leans into Steve as the movie starts.

And Steve has no idea what's happening on the screen. He goes through his beer fast and sets it on the table in front of them. He turns to Eddie and asks, "Where's your uncle?"

Eddie glances up at him and replies, "At work."

Steve gets distracted by how close his lips are to Eddie's but decides this is the perfect time to finally make a move. "Good," he says as he leans down.

Only, Eddie is shooting back and asking, "What are you doing?"

Steve freezes. Eddie doesn't look pleasantly surprised at all, instead he looks scared and confused. Fuck. "Uh, forget about it. Sorry," Steve says as he scoots away from him and slowly stands up.

"It's okay," Eddie says still looking a bit panicked. A few awkward moments pass by before he's talking again, "I...I should apologize for leading you on... with the flirting in stuff... I didn't know you were..." he trails off.

"Bisexual," Steve fills in for him. Eddie gives him a confused look. "It means I like men and women."

"Oh," Eddie says, eyes still wide but looking a bit lost in thought.

Steve just echoes, "Yeah, oh." He fidgets the edge of the stupid blue shirt Robin had said would make Eddie lose his mind. He feels a pressure behind his eyes that's wildly embarrassing. "I'm gonna go," Steve says and rushes out the trailer and into the pouring rain. He has no idea when it started raining, but it doesn't matter because Eddie doesn't even try to stop him.

Steve parks his car outside of Robin's and goes to the side of the one-story house and knocks on her window. Robin is unlatching it immediately and asking, "What the hell are you doing? It's raining out."

"You were wrong about Eddie. He doesn't like me. Why would you convince me he did?" Steve says loudly over the rain.

Robin's eyebrows furrow. "There's no way he doesn't. What makes you think that? And get inside, you're already soaked!"

"He apologized for leading me on, Robin!" Steve says, not caring about the rain or how loud he's getting. "He didn't even stop me when I left! So, don't try this whole setting people up with me thing again. I'm done with that." He stalks off as Robin calls out to him.

He knows he's being dramatic, but he doesn't care. He really liked Eddie, and he hadn't been prepared to be rejected by him. Worst of all, this is going to ruin their entire friendship. Who are they without the flirtatious banter and constant teasing? They weren't dating but Steve has never felt so heartbroken before.

When he gets home, he doesn't really think, just goes to his pool and dives in. He's already soaked, so it's not like it matters too much. He floats on the surface and closes his eyes, feeling the raindrops falling on his face which are noticeably colder than his tears, but at least he can pretend it hides them.

The sound of thunder in the distance is what drags him out of the pool. He's not going to let lightning be the thing that kills him after everything. Although his heartache feels a bit intent on killing him. But that just makes him angry at himself.

He isn't allowed to be this hurt over things. He really isn't. He should've known better. That's all. His thoughts wear him out until he's falling into a fitful sleep.

Work the next day sucks. Robin's acting all anxious around him, and Nancy comes in acting all sympathetic until Steve finally snaps, "If you're not here to get a movie, then you have no reason to be here."

After that, Robin lectures him about taking his anger out on other people. At least she isn't giving him that damn sad look anymore.

For the first time in weeks, Eddie doesn't show up during his shift, and Steve realizes he needs to get used to that.

A week later, the kids are giving him the same treatment Nancy did after they finally get Steve to spill the reason why Eddie doesn't come to the Family Video anymore. Steve slips away into the back after Robin tells him it's his break time - which is absolute bullshit, but Robin doesn't let the kids know that.

Steve has his head in his hands when he hears the door to the breakroom open. He doesn't look up, expecting Robin to tell him that the kids have left or something. Instead, he hears, "Just give him a while. If you're lucky, it won't take him years to figure things out."

Steve's head slowly comes up to reply, "Not all of us can be lucky like you and Mike."

Will shrugs. "If not, you know Eddie will still be friends with you. I give it a week before things are back to normal." Steve smiles at the kid. He's optimistic and determined in a way that makes Steve feel a glimmer of hope.

Two days later, Steve is wiping off the counter towards the end of his shift when he hears the bell to the front door ring. He glances up to find Eddie walking in looking slightly cautious as he looks around the empty store.

"Hey," Steve says as he approaches the counter.

Eddie smiles slightly and says, "Hey." Then, he's handing over a tape to return, and Steve tries not to flinch when he recognizes it as the one they were supposed to watch that night.

"A bit late," Steve jokes but automatically clears the fees before he sets it in the returns pile for the next day.

Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. "I forgot." His eyes lock with Steve's for a moment before they begin to look at anywhere but him. "Where's Robin?"

"I let her go early," Steve explains. Another awkward silence settles between them.

"Well," Eddie says and removes a hand from his pocket to drum his fingers on the counter. "I'm gonna head out."

"Wait," Steve calls out as he turns around. Eddie freezes. "I'm about to lock up. Could you just wait around a few minutes?" Steve asks, trying not to cringe at the desperation in his tone.

Eddie turns around and gives him a small smile. "Of course."

Steve nods and rushes to clean up. It won't kill anyone to close the store a few minutes early. He grabs his stuff from the back and is slightly surprised when he finds Eddie still waiting for him when he returns. But he glances up and gives him a smile that makes Steve believe that maybe Will was right. Maybe things will return back to normal in a week.

And they do. Eddie starts showing up during Steve's shifts again, talking about something random which Steve listens to full heartedly although sometimes he doesn't get half of what he's saying. Then, Eddie is returning a tape that has been late for so long that Steve actually gasps when he sees the late fee. But Steve automatically clears it which has Eddie flirting, "Is this because you think I'm cute?"

It has both of them freezing for a second, but then Steve is firing back, "I'm just making sure you know that you owe me in the future." Eddie pouts ridiculously dramatically which has Steve laughing and saying, "And maybe because you're cute."

The compliment has Eddie's cheeks turning slightly red before they move on to a random topic. Steve is happy to find their dynamic shifts a little after this which allows Steve to flirt back easily. It confuses everyone else, but Steve is perfectly content with it, especially when he finds Eddie's smiles growing with every compliment he gets.

One afternoon, Eddie is looking through tapes and gives him the oddest deja vu when he holds one up and says, "We should watch this together."

It's said all casual, but Steve hasn't hung out with Eddie alone since... yeah. And he's kind of freaking out. "After my shift?" Steve asks.

"It's a date," Eddie says with a bright smile that has Steve excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

He splashes his face with cold water and takes a few deep breaths. It isn't actually a date this time - he knows that. But the memory of the last time might be a little too much for Steve to handle. He dries off his face with a thin paper towel, and exits the bathroom only to find Eddie anxiously fiddling with his rings at the counter.

"You okay?" Steve asks, and Eddie turns and nods with an unconvincing smile. Steve lets it go as Eddie talks about his most recent DnD session with the kids and how Will is a genius. Steve definitely agrees with him on that topic.

A few hours later, Steve finds himself in the Munson trailer on the same couch, drinking the same beer, but this time keeping a respectable distance from Eddie. Minutes later, Eddie is heading to the fridge to grab two more beers, and when he comes back, he sits right next to Steve.

Steve glances towards him in slight confusion, but Eddie remains staring at his TV as he practically chugs down his second beer. Before Steve can reach out for the other one, Eddie is opening it and starting on a third one.

Steve's hand comes up to settle on Eddie's hand on the bottle. Eddie slowly puts the bottle down and blurts out, "My uncle is working again."

Steve just slowly nods, not sure where he's going with this. Eddie looks at Steve and his eyes quickly flicker to his lips where they linger. Steve can't help but ask, "You okay?"

Eddie's eyes snap back up to Steve's eyes, and then he's taking his beer and taking a large gulp of it that has Steve on edge. He's definitely preparing for something, but Steve has no clue what it is.

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Remember when you told me you were..."

Steve racks his brain. Into you? Gutted when you didn't like me back? "Bisexual?" he asks.

Eddie nods quickly. "I... hadn't heard of that before, and it had me wondering if... I was bisexual."

"Oh," Steve says as his heart rate increases.

"Yeah, and then I thought about Chrissy and how I thought I might like her, but I think I just liked her the way Robin likes you. Completely platonically." Steve nods as Eddie builds up the courage for what he's going to say next. "And I kind of realized that maybe I didn't like girls at all. But then that freaked me out, and I realized that maybe I need to think less in labels and more about how I feel."

Steve tries not to smile as Eddie's face scrunches up as he mumbles out, "That's so fucking cheesy. Christ." In a normal volume, Eddie continues, "And I think that I have... feelings for you. Especially after you tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stop thinking about how I wanted you to, but I didn't know what that meant either. But then when you were flirting with me, I just... wanted that forever. And then fucking Mike had to talk to me about how it made me feel to imagine you with anyone else - which turns out to be really fucking not good."

Steve laughs, and Eddie finally looks at him with a big smile and says, "Don't laugh at me while I'm trying to admit I have feelings for you! That's rude!"

Steve laughs even harder and explains, "I'm laughing because you got the Mike lecture while I got the Will pep talk."

"Huh?"

"Will told me you would come to your senses eventually, and if not, you'd still be there - as a friend."

Eddie looks off for a second and shakes his head. "We can never tell them those worked. Dustin will be so pissed."

"You're right," Steve says with a laugh, but then he finally realizes what Eddie is saying. "So, you might like me?" Steve asks feeling every bit like a high school boy.

"Yeah," Eddie admits and turns to look towards his beer longingly.

Steve cups his jaw and turns his head to face him. "Want to find out?" Steve asks.

Eddie's eyes flicker to his lips again and his hand comes up to mimic Steve's as he rests his hand on his cheek. "Yes," Eddie breathes out.

Steve slowly leans into his space and lets Eddie meet him halfway for a slow kiss. Eddie pulls back after a moment and smiles wide, "Yeah, I'm definitely not straight. And I really like you."

Steve smiles and brings Eddie in again. "I really like you, too," Steve says before he kisses him again.

Posted on AO3 for @starkdusk

[fariesoiree]

STRAWBERRY MERINGUE

caution! mdni 6k wrdz, hobie smokes weed, you’re drunk n contact high, you get it blown in your face, exhibitionism, kinda voyeurism, use of the word nigga, use of the word pussy and cunt, public sex, fingering f. receiving, oral m. receiving, sharing of cum, degradation barely ( use of the word bitch and slut once), choking but not really, brat taming if you squint, unprotected sex, pull out method, lmk if i missed anything! pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

hobie takes a long drawl of the blunt between his lips. his eyes are half lidded and his head is tilted back. in the dim lighting, you can barely tell his scleras are red but they are, pupils low and moving slow across the scenery.

he’s careful, knowing that you hate the smell. he doesn’t get it, though. you grumble every time he sparks up, claiming the smell reminds you of body odor, until you’re intoxicated yourself.

tonight, you’re indulging a bit, drunk off mixed liquors so you don’t mind. it’s the last thing you’re thinking about when he sits up and slots his mouth over yours. he blows the smoke into you, ending with a sloppy kiss.

you don’t smoke, or at least that’s what you claim. in a way, you don’t, never actually putting the paper to your lips. you just steal whatever hobie gives you because in your pretty, little head, it’s somehow better.

your body feels heavy. you’re so crossed, not thinking about how you’re tonguing hobie down in front of his friends. they’re not paying you much attention, either. this isn’t surprising, not with the explicit details hobie sometimes shares. it happens every party anyway. as long as you are both intoxicated, you’re unable to keep your hands off each other.

you mewl when he adjusts you in his lap, one hand on your back to draw you forward. your eyes flutter and your hands run over the navy blue mesh of his top. his tongue piercing is warm and bumping against the roof of your mouth.

you’re straddling his lap, standing out in the group of punks with your sparkly pink tank top and denim miniskirt. underneath you, hobie is your opposite in low waisted jeans, distressed and dark. his chains are layered and occasionally clink against each other when he moves.

you’re so in love with him and his little v line, peeking through the sliver of skin visible. you’re too greedy, grinding against his studded belt. the rhinestones don’t bump and graze your sensitive parts enough.

“mm mm,” he hums against your lips. “not here.” he kisses your cheek and creates just a bit of space between you in an attempt to keep you settled. his heart swells at the adorable disappointment in your eyes but he knows better than to comment on it. you like to villainize whatever you can to get your way and he doesn’t want to deal with you the way he usually does right here with everyone’s somewhat watchful eyes.

you sulk when he grins. he only tunes you out and takes another huff of the rolled blunt. “you jealous?” he chuckles at the expression riri, one of his bandmates, sports.

her face is contorted in disgust, being the unfortunate one to catch you two at the wrong time. “no, you’re just gross. i’ve never seen a couple so all over each other than you.”

hobie merely raises his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “i told you she was coming. you knew what that meant.” he exhales the smoke in your face again, mockingly sneering at his friend when you welcome it.

you barely hear their conversation between the insatiable throbbing in your core and the need to get inside hobie’s skin. you cling on to him and rest your head in the crook of his neck. he rubs your side while you mindlessly litter dark purple hickies along his collar. his hands come up to graze your arm.

it’s his party, or rather, their party. in celebration, his band decided to have a small get together to celebrate the release of their mixtape. it was supposed to be small. now it’s turned into a house party with the amount of plus ones in attendance.

the music causes a buzz in your bloodstream. you’re delirious and horny out of your mind. somewhere down the line, you made the conscious decision to down a hefty amount of casamigos and now you’re dealing with the consequences. “ ‘bie,” you snivel. you take his hand and guide it in between your bodies until his fingers are over the growing and slightly damp spot over your panties. you pant when he applies pressure, swiping aimlessly back and forth.

the dull ache in your stomach is heightened because of his toying. your drunken mind has you trying to push down on him, only for him to remove his hand with a click of his tongue. “i told you not here. gonna have to wait, pretty girl.”

hobie can’t tell if he’s seeing things when your lips tremble. he squints, both trying to examine the details through the haze and deter you from throwing a tantrum. you’re already halfway there, assuming he doesn’t care about what you want. you’re just about to give him a piece of your mind when you’re interrupted, timed perfectly.

“hey hobes?”

both your heads turn, spotting another band member stood to the side.

karl looks untroubled as he crashes somewhere on the couch. he hums as he gets comfortable, eyes scanning the crowd with a mischievous smile. “won’t believe what i gotta tell you.

“yeah?” hobie dangles one long arm off the back of the couch. he rests his head on his shoulder. the action both distracts and reminds you of your mission to decorate him in love bites.

you’re unaware of how karl turns, nodding his head in your direction. “some fucker wants to get to know your girl. saw us walking around and thought we were cool, thinks I can make something happen.”

you remain unaware still. the words don’t click in your head, no matter that hobie is speaking right here with you in his lap.

“oh?” he laughs a bit at the thought. it doesn’t bother him and happens more frequently than one would think. he’s gotten used to their gross antics but he doesn’t feel jealous. no, he’s pleased. pleased that someone else can recognize that he’s got the best girl. “hear that, princess? got a second boyfriend.” his eyes are downcast and on you.

you’re too dazed and busy to listen, covering every part of his skin until there is no space left. “don’t care,” you murmur. you’re not sure what you’re uncaring towards but it doesn’t matter. not when there are more important tasks to deal with.

hobie pulls you up by the neckline. he’s not shocked when you’re already glaring at him, convinced that, at this point, he’s torturing you. “you should. it’s rude to not speak to someone, you know.”

you feel so incredibly petulant beyond words. you blow a short breath through your nose. it takes you a second to find it, find your tone and patience. unfortunately, you can’t. “huh?” you snap.

fortunately, hobie doesn’t care. “you got a valentine or whatever the fuck. should go to talk to him.”

you know it’s not really a request.

it’s a game you both play, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see. as much as you hate being ripped away from him at times like this, you enjoy the game, too. it usually ends all hot and heavy, just how you like it.

before you’re standing he holds up a finger to karl, motioning the man to wait. hobie brings the blunt to his lip and immediately shotguns it into yours. he’s nasty about it, a hand groping your ass and rolling your hips down into his.

“jesus christ,” karl mutters. his face is scrunched up and even if the dark lighting, you can tell his cheeks are firetruck red.

yeah, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see.

you grin, patting karl’s shoulder as you stand. admittedly, you stumble a bit. your balance is all fucked up and you probably aren’t making the best decisions. “this will be you one day, bud.”

karl takes your hand in his. he can already tell you won’t be able to make it across the room without aid. you probably haven’t stood up since you sat down, too busy damn near dry humping hobie. “gee, i can only hope.”

hobie sighs, a deep rumble spreads in his chest. “not a scratch, karl.” he takes his eyes over you from head to toe, as slow as he can afford. they starting at your heels, up to the buns on either side of your head.

“we’re gonna go pimp her out, not to war.” the other rolls his eyes, trading his hand in yours to your elbow, both for more support and because he doesn’t know where you put it.

you both begin your trek around the quite spacious living room. you don’t know where you’re going and occasionally, you’re tripping over yourself. it’s not all that bad. most of the fault is because you decided to wear heels and even though they were thick and blocky, it didn’t do much in your current state.

your ankle wobbles and karl has to yank you upright. he doesn’t know how you haven’t injured yourself by now. maybe you are going to war, but with yourself. “what the hell? how much did you drink?”

you giggle with a shake of your head. “didn’t count. it’s fine! ‘m not blacked, just tipsy, maybe. oh and a little high.” you’re really not that far under the influence, you think. most of the influence is pure lust and when it’s subtracted from the occasion, you’re all bubbly.

karl looks over your shoulder. his attention is behind you and you see him wave someone over. “yeah well, try not to bust your ass. i’m calling that guy over now. his name is fuckin’ max or something like that.”

you completely forgot that’s what you came over for. it’s only been a few steps but between your bumbling and laughter, it slipped your mind. “oh. are you gonna stick around?”

“hell no,” karl sucks in his breath. his face twists and he points in pinky at hobie. “i don’t wanna be here when he gets up. you two are bad enough when you’re calm.”

sure enough, he’s still watching with a clear view from the couch in the corner. he lifts his fingers and wiggles them in a wave. you lick your lips at the sight of his hands. your pussy throbs at the thought of them pushing deep inside you.

“yeah, i’m out.” karl waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “i’ll be around if you need me. just call, i’ll hear you.” he doesn’t want to experience what you freaks are about to get into but he also doesn’t want to leave you here, faded with a man you don’t know.

he waits until the trade off happens and you’re left semi alone. you’re not exactly shy but nothing comes to mind. you’re uninterested, having already committing yourself to another. “max?”

“mark,” he says. he doesn’t look like anything interesting. sagging his jeans and wearing an ill fitting shirt. definitely not your type. if you lost him in a crowd, he’d disappear. his first mistake would be losing you in the first place.

however, if you want to be tossed onto the nearest surface, you have to push through it. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” you flash a smile. you rock back on your feet, only to trip over yourself. without karl holding you up, you find yourself grasping for balance. an honest giggle leaves your lips at your clumsiness but it’s mistaken for delight.

mark’s hands grab at your waist and your first thought is how they don’t compare. they’re much smaller and he definitely isn’t handling you with care. you have to remind yourself not to frown when you’re jostled back onto your feet. “havin’ a lot of fun tonight? your nigga didn’t stop you?”

you can’t stop looking at his hand still holding on to you. if you weren’t turned off by his appearance, you are now with his lack of awareness. you make an excuse to bump his hand off when you “adjust” the top of your shirt. “who, karl? karl and i are not . . . definitely not.”

in mark’s head, this means you don’t have one. even if you did, there’s much doubt he’d care. “so what? you don’t have one then. you want one?”

“um . . .” you flick your eyes over to hobie. you know he’s still watching and knows it’s a universal sign that you can’t take anymore of this. “i do have one. just not him so . . .” you gather your hands together and curl them into each other.

“you can’t have friends? we don’t gotta do nothin’, just chill.” he speaks with his hands. they’re waving all in the air and smacking against each other. typically it wouldn’t annoy you but you really just don’t like this guy. “i mean, you don’t gotta tell him. he ain’t gonna go shit, anyway.”

you scoff to yourself. before you have a chance to defend your lanky little stick bug, a familiar presence subtly appears at your side.

you turn to him before he’s even looking at you.

his hand is on your cheek, gingerly. hobie isn’t glaring, nor is he smug but there’s something about him. as if he knows something mark doesn’t. and he does. he knows mark doesn’t stand a chance, knows he’s going to be upset someone like hobie has you wrapped around his finger. he knows he’s not going like the way he dresses and talks. he’s going to go off to his friends and call hobie a bitch and whatever other caveman words he can think of.

that’s exactly why he doesn’t stand a chance.

“made a new friend?” hobie finally looks at you. his gaze softens immediately and he moves forward to kiss your lips.

“something like that.” you sigh sweetly. even with your shoes, you don’t compare to his height. you have to pull yourself up. your aim is to deepen the kiss, biting his bottom lip when he doesn’t oblige.

hobie only pats your butt and you pout. “thanks for comin’, man. we really appreciate it.” he doesn’t offer any sign of respect. it won’t be returned. call him mean, say he’s stereotyping, but he has enough experience to know when someone will appreciate his presence and when someone won’t.

mark grimaces. he gives hobie a once over, obviously not happy with what he’s seeing. “this is your thing? shit. if i knew that, i wouldn’t have came.”

you feel something vile bubbling up in your throat. your stomach churns at his words. how dare he? he looks like every other person in the room, in this place that hobie pays for, and insults him like he’s worth something.

“well, it’s a good thing i told you then, huh? leave if you want to. have a good night.” hobie speaks before you do. he wraps his arm around your shoulder and slots his hand over your mouth. knowing your temper, he doesn’t need you making anything worse.

you both watch him stalk off in two different moods. hobie is just as calm as ever. he lets his aggression roll of his back like nothing. meanwhile, you’re grumbling about what a terrible person he is, how you don’t like him and anything you stands for.

“dumb bitch. that’s why you’re weird and bitchless.” you’re more upset he ruined the way things are supposed to go. hobie is supposed to take you in his arms and fluster both you and the third person. instead, you end up grumpy.

hobie chuckles. he massages your shoulder, adoringly watching you go on and on about how he sucks. “yeah? what’d he say to you?”

the thought alone has you groaning and going on another spiel. “he asked if you let me ‘have friends’ and ‘i don’t have to tell you’.” you crinkle your nose. as if you’d ever cheat and lie about it, or lie about anything at all. there’s no secrets in between you two and if there is any ever hesitation, it comes out eventually when the other person is ready. you can’t imagine keeping anything from him with ill intent. “you should have clocked him in the jaw,” you pivot and face him. you’re extra careful not to do it too fast and wrap your arms around his thin waist.

“while you’re standing right here? not gonna do that.” he hooks his hands under your arms and lifts you onto his waist. “you get hurt and i’ll blow this whole place up.”

with your little skirt, half your ass is out. you squeal, a hand going down to maintain as much modesty as you can. hobie is no help. he doesn’t care. his freak ass wants someone to see. getting rid of one person doesn’t mean everyone else’s eyes are no longer wandering.

he takes you back over to your original resting spot without struggle despite your wiggling and complaining that he isn’t doing anything to help you. he plops back down back, smirking when you’re bouncing from the impact. your hands fly to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“you’re done smoking?” you look around the group and don’t see a blunt in sight. it’s surprising from them, considering they always pass around multiple in rotation every night. you were only gone for a few minutes.

“i am. they’re not.” hobie pulls the strap of your top up. it’s fallen and despite the view of your tits he got, he didn’t particularly want everyone else to see them. not yet, at least.

he runs his hands along the tops of your thighs, straddling him. his thumb dips dangerously on the inner and dig into your bikini line when they run high.

you draw a breath, zeroing in on the action. “oh. why?” you can’t hear him when the need comes crashing back, just as strongly as it did before. you were under the impression this wouldn’t be happening and had no idea he planned on doing it here.

hobie likes you like this. he can never really describe it but you melt so easily. one touch, one graze of his fingertips and you’re all soft. it’s nice you can keep up with his libido but it’s even better when he can keep up with yours. “ ‘cause i don’t want to. why do you think?”

you don’t know what to think right now. not when his thumb grazes over your clit so slowly. it’s always you who’s so worked up while he’s so lax.

you rut against him, lip tucked under your teeth. you don’t know where to put your hands without making it obvious. he’s occupying the space in your lap and you wouldn’t dare clench the front of his shirt.

you settle for behind you, resting on your calves. in hindsight, it has the opposite effect but you’re all dizzy. you pant when he rolls the bud under his pads of his finger. you’re simultaneously regretting and rejoicing in the fact that you decided to wear a thong for the outfit. it’s thin and does nothing to dull the feeling.

a hand reaches into your peripheral. you can see the rolled smoke in between it’s fingers but you can’t be bothered to look over and see who it belongs to.

“thanks,” hobie acknowledges it. he leans into it to take his puff and tilts his head back. the remnants are released in the air rather than your face. the smell mixes with his cologne, musky and woodsy. you wouldn’t like it any other time but now. now, any part of him makes your pussy wet.

“thought you weren’t smoking,” you tilt your hips up and further into his hand.

he lets you, wanting you to become as unnerved as possible. “i wasn’t, then. i am, now.” his attention flicks down to your crotch. hobie wishes the lighting is a little better. he can’t see anything like this. sure, he can see his actions but he can’t see the effect it has on you. he can feel the damp spot when his fingers drift too far down and push into you as far as your underwear will allow.

you squirm, tempted to tug it to the side yourself. you can’t breathe under the pressure of need. how much longer is he going to delay this?

“stop movin’,” he squeezes your hip. “i let you act like act like a bitch in heat for a second but now you’re gettin’ greedy.” he doesn’t usually speak to you like this but when he does, it has you gushing. you keen while your head hangs low.

you clench your hands into fists and screw your eyes shut. “sorry.” you say while giving him your best attempt to sit still.

“and look at me. i’m playing with your cute little pussy. the least you can do is look at me.”

you shake your head in refusal but make eye contact with him, anyway. you’re shy, not because he’s toying with you, but because he’s toying with you in front of his friends, in front of everyone here.

“there you go,” he quietly praises you just under his breath, “there she is.” hobie nudges his way against you, nose poking at your neck. “it’s too bad i can’t suck on it till you’re creaming.”

you jump, your shoulder meeting your ear. it’s unintentional, following the way his breath tickles your skin. “don’t say that,” your voice is all watery.

he pulls the your baby blue panties to the side and sucks his teeth. his eyes are rolling at your words. “don’t say that? i have my fingers deep inside you and you’re telling me not to say that?”

“you don’t – ”

your body falls forward when it happens, when hobie plunges in his fingers without warning. your mouth drops open, knees digging into his side when your legs attempt to close. “ohh,” it leaves your mouth long and drawn out. the sudden stretch of his pointer and middle finger makes your body curl.

“someone just sold me these shrooms.”

you hear the crinkle of a bag somewhere nearby and the sound only gets louder. you can assume it’s being passed around but your blood is pumping in your ears. you breathe heavily, mindlessly sinking your teeth into his shoulder.

“i’d let you hold ‘em, hobes, but . . .”

his body shakes underneath you when he laughs lightly. his fingers don’t stop their incessant movements, stroking your walls. “all good. how much did you pay?”

you writhe when hobie digs into your spot, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit. you can feel a small stream of drool pooling out of your cheek. it’s more so with how chaotic you are, tongue and teeth relishing at his neck.

you feel a heavy arm stilling you against him despite your struggle.

“don’t mind her. she’s just being a baby ‘bout it.” he doesn’t apologize for his explicit acts. he apologizes for your distracting reactions, for your quiet moans. it unnerves you.

here you are, worked up and dripping in front of your boyfriend’s friends. they’re so casual about it and as much as you hate to remember, they’re not wrong to be. hobie gets off on this and by default, you do too.

“is she a baby or are you an absolute ass?”

“you’re gonna irritate me and i’m gonna take it out on her.” his lips is upturned and lazy. “so how much did you pay for it?”

you don’t care to listen to the rest of the conversation. you’re very obviously grinding downward to feel him deeper and it only results in you tightening around him with a gasp. you’re weakly tugging his face until he’s turned around.

he’s not exactly thrilled to be interrupted from his conversation but he takes pity and gives in. your lip connect, tongues immediately tangling with each other. your saliva mixes and he sucks on your tongue to satiate you. on occasion, your teeth bump and crash against each other but it doesn’t discourage you. you only lean into it.

his fingers increase their pace and he ignores the cramp in his wrists. he juts his fingers against the spot that has you digging your nails into him.

this is so surreal. you and your friends always like fun at the people who get off at your college parties. you’ve told hobie the stories in the past but he seemed disinterested. now, you’re those people at those parties and it doesn’t sound as bad.

“you cummin’?” he whispers to you and you alone. he prefers to this part to himself, only you two knowing without speculation.

your lifting your hips to escape the stimulation, mouth running dry from the way it hangs open. “mhm,” you squeal. the ball wound up tight in your core releasing, accompanying spurts of cream.

your chest heaving as you gulp out air. hobie pulls his fingers out with a low squelch only he can hear. a low whistle leaves his lips at the where his fingers glisten. you’re expecting him to press them to your tongue but your eyes widen when they continue to extend outwards. instead, they’re all in riri’s mouth.

they’re both eyeing you and you don’t know what to do. your attention darts between the both of them before focusing on the floor. your hands fiddle with your skirt. your face is burning, your whole body is.

“damn hobes,” she mumbles.

you can still feel their gaze on you, thick and heavy.

his hands are running from your back to your calves and back up again. the saliva is smearing over your skin. “i know. it’s better right from the source.” he slides your panties back in there spot and ignore how disappointed you look.

“ ‘bie,” you want to cry. you don’t want to beg in front of everyone but it’s as if he doesn’t care about you.

“stop your whinin’,” he fixes you with a pointed glare. hobie pushes you off his lap til you’re standing. “we’ll be back.” he doesn’t have to explain himself for everyone to understand what’s happening, not that he would anyway. he gets off the couch and takes your hand in his.

hobie takes you with him, guiding you to the bathroom. both your hands are clasped around his and you’re staring at him, wide eyed, rather than your surroundings.

he can feel you watching him. you’re doe eyed and it makes him harder than he already is. it’s as if he’s the only one that can fix it, and he truly is. hobie nearly tosses you into the bathroom. he slams the door behind him and flicks over the lock.

when he turns around, you’re kneeling and pawing at his jeans. you pout when you undo his zipper.

“what’s wrong, pretty?” hobie hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts it to his. “you don’t have to suck it if you don’t want to.”

“it’s not that,” you pull down his jeans . you wrap your fingers around the base and jerk your hand up and down his shaft. “you embarrassed me really bad.” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “can’t face your friends, now.”

hobie pinches your cheek. he mocks your expression before breaking out in a smile. “didn’t look embarrassed fucking yourself on my fingers. i’m not the one who licked your cum off ‘em.” he squeezes your face together until your lips are puckered.

he slaps his tip against your lips and smears the saliva-precum mix across your cheeks. you’re not moving fast enough, too busy telling him “problems” that he couldn’t care about. you don’t even mean them, just want something to irritate him with.

you shut your lips tightly and cross your arms over your chest. he’s only making you more likely to be difficult. you turn your cheek at him and stare at the rug. “not listening to me.”

hobie sighs and runs his hands over his face. he knows you’re delicate and are quick to throw a fit when you feel you have to. if he doesn’t get you under wraps, he’ll have to put in more effort in the long run. “what is it, baby? because the last time i checked, you’re the one who was about to scream my head off because i didn’t take out my dick right then and there.”

you purse your lips harder. “i wasn’t screaming. you’re being dramatic.”

“i’m being dramatic?” he cannot believe you right now. he squats down until you’re levelled with each other. his hand engulfs you by the throat. he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you close. “you’re mad at me because you came. most of it was your work, though. don’t piss me off.”

neither of you say anything for the passing moment. the only movement made is the small nod of your head.

he releases you following a quick peck on your lips. he stands and you’re back to your previous task, swallowing his cock. you hollow your cheeks, hands on his thighs.

hobie grips the sink behind you. he has to siphon his strength to prevent from breaking the counter. he tries, he really does to keep himself from fucking your throat.

he always does start off as gentle, restraining himself. he watches you, watches your spit dribble and froth. his hand strokes the back of your head. he’s all langley, long enough to do so with no problems.

you realize too late when he pushes your head down until you’re choking, eyes watering with your tears. they spill over your eyes when you close them and gasp for air when he lets go.

hobie brushes your tears away while you wheeze. “couldn’t help myself.” he does feel apologetic, although he would definitely do it again. he doesn’t, though. not until you’re ready, sniffling and aligning his cock with your mouth.

you relax as much as you can. after his big push, you down more than the last attempt. you’ve never been able to fit his whole dick in your mouth, considering the length. the rest of it is beneath your hands, being squeezed and rubbed.

he can’t help the way he bucks his hips forward. he does feel guilty when you choke but it’s overwhelmed by the vibrations of your temporary struggle. still, you persist. you suck and slurp despite your need for air. you’re a bit lightheaded and grateful when hobie takes a step back and pulls himself out.

he exhales, thumb pressing on his tip and holding his cock still to discourage himself from cumming. you can’t even fathom how you make him feel. he believes even if you kissed him long enough, he could cum untouched. “you’re so good to me,” he wets his lips, the other hand on the wall. “so good, too good.”

you drink in the praise with a satisfied smile. you wriggle your toes beneath you and decide to take advantage of his lack of attention. your fingers dip between your legs and underneath your underwear.

you lean forward just enough to fingerfuck yourself. it doesn’t feel as good as when he does it, purely because your hands are much smaller than his. “hobie,” you call out to him.

his actions to last longer are almost futile when he meets your big brown eyes. “slut,” he mutters and pulls you to your feet.

you don’t hide your smile when he turns you around by your hips and pushes you down over the counter. he flips your skirt up and yanks your panties down to your ankles.

you don’t give him a chance to tease, pushing your hips back the moment you feel his dick lined up with your slit. you grip the countertop until the tips of your fingers are white and devoid of the red tint.

hobie pushes down on your the small of your back. he trails his thumb over your tramp stamp. he looms over you, your back pressed against his chest. “you’re so pretty, honey. y’know that?” he squeezes your jaw, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. he thinks you look a little better like this, with tear stains streaming down your face and leaving the trails in your powder. the eyeliner you spent so long to perfect is a bit smudged and the highlight in the corner of your hair is gone.

you whine and wiggle your hips. he’s not doing enough. he’s not doing anything but talking about you and that’s not what you want. “stop talking, please.” you feel miserable, shoes clicking against the floor when you shuffle your feet.

“don’t start complainin’, you hear me? i don’t wanna hear it.” he kisses the nape of your neck and rises.

you think nothing of it. you’re awfully confident until he’s grasping your hips and snapping into you. you nearly scream, reaching back and pressing against his stomach.

hobie shoves your hand off his body and holds it instead. “what did i just say?” he much rather you squeeze his hand, nails pressing into his skin. he guides it back to the counter and leaves them both there, his other hand fucking you back onto him.

he’s using you. you can hear the the sound of impact between your skin. you can feel it too, toes curling under the straps of your heels. you can’t keep yourself quiet, moaning into the back of your hand.

for once, hobie doesn’t reprimand you about it. you can already barely stand, forehead resting against the coolness of the composite.

your legs wobble and you’re depending completely on him to hold you up. he’s a little limited in his view, unable to see your breasts bouncing underneath you. he’s not able to see your face, either.

you make up for it in the way you moan. he can hear his name slipping in, muffled in your hand. the other, underneath his, curls and coils. there is no escaping him when you’re pressed against a hard surface and he’s pressed against you.

“ ‘obie,” you pant. you bend your knee and straighten it out as a way to express your pleasure. in the end, he holds it in the air. with both your hands free, you use the hold on the counter to push back against him.

“don’t worry. i got you.” he reaches under your lifted leg, rolling your sensitive nerves between his fingers.

your back arches and you throw your head over his shoulder. your arms tremble as the waves of your orgasm comes crashing against you.

you’re dizzy, falling forward because he fucks you through it. your mouth is open and drool pools over the side. you don’t care. your cunt throbs with over sensitivity and tears begin in your eyes again.

hobie uses your back dimples as leverage. your pleas ring around in his brain but it’s all foggy. he’s so close and it’ll plaguing his thoughts. “sorry, angel. i’m so sorry.” his hand falls beside your eyes. his pace quickens and he has to cover your mouth when you get too loud.

he suddenly pulls out, spewing his cum over your ass. hobie has to take a second behind you, not that you mind. you don’t feel like moving yourself even when your tits are all squished and uncomfortable.

a few minutes pass before he takes some tissue to clean you up with soft touches. “you did so good.” he says, tossing the tissue away and getting another to wipe the slick on your thighs. “my perfect girl. you okay?”

“mhm.” you haven’t gotten up, eyes closed. your hit with an onslaught of sleepiness, your guess is from the waning influence of everything you’ve consumed tonight.

hobie pulls your underwear back up and fixes your skirt back into its place. he pulls your partially limp body up and gathers you in his arms. “are you fallin’ asleep?”

“mhm,” you hum again, coddling into his warmth.

he smiles, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you into the air. he doesn’t have to ask to know you would love to be left alone to sleep so he takes it upon himself to carry you to his room to rest.

hobie really can’t wait until you wake up and he tells you all about how he fucked you to sleep.

[luciddaydreamsstuff]

Desert Duo Doodles! I am in way too many fandoms to count, including content creators and whatnot. It wasn’t until a doodle of some CCs that I realised how many were MCYTs. But I wanted to draw these two cause I liked how I drew Scar in the other original doodle and have drawn Grian a bunch but constantly changed the design. Now I have one that I like.

Under the cut are the individual drawings plus stickers that I forgot to add to the original but decided fuck it it’s done, plus some explanation about design choices and headcanons. (Does anyone even care about that?) Idk and idc, I’ll ramble anyways.

(you don’t have to read the stuff, I don’t really care, but you can if you want)

First off, this one was annoying since it was supposed to be a hug. I was too lazy to draw the Third/Sercet Life outfits, so they are in their default outfits with crowns representing the fact that they won at least one of the Life games.

Ramble: For Grian’s design, I wanted to keep the bird/avian hybrid but also reference other series or past friend. The Life series has the poppy has memorabilia, the blue and red bracelet represents YHS/TS, and the eye necklace is for Evo. The tail is more so a mix of Watcher magic and Avian DNA, bird feet cause why not. The wing ears are hidden to look similar enough to his regular hair, I like to imagine that wing ears are a rarer trait and to not draw too much attention, he would use Watcher magic to change the colour of the wing ears to match his hair. The freckles are based off of the idea that Angel Dust’s freckles are actually just eyes (which were shown in the show), and I liked that idea. He didn’t have freckles before Evo but after in Hermitcraft he did, they are just eyes that are always closed though he can see out of them. It’ll be clearer in the next piece, but his eyes are based off of some bird eyes so a black sclera with coloured pupils. Grian just hides his eyes under his hair since they are more sensitive than normal. Also I didn’t wanna draw his eyes cause it was one of the things I kept changing before.

I’ll go into Scar later since it’s just a half body but he goes by the same rule of his outfit showing where he’s been. So the poppy and lavender for Third Life and the heart necklace for Secret Life. The earrings are based off of the crystals from Season 7.

Alter Egos! Or at least Hot Guy and Arianna Griande. Not much here, but you can see what I meant with the eyes beforehand.

Also, I can’t be the only one to notice or at least point out that Ari and Cute Guy have like the same or a least a very similar colour palette of pink and white.

Final one, and the two are taking a much needed nap. This could take place anywhere though I like to imagine somewhere in Double Life or somewhere between Season 7 - 10

(also I find it very funny how close these two’s bases were for Season 6 - 10. both were near each other in the futuristic district of season six, then next door neighbours at the start of season seven, I don’t need to mention much besides boatem in season eight, again near the start and most of season nine with Scarland and Grian’s timejump build, then finally again in season ten with Magic Mountain. just funny to me for some reason)

Ramble: Scar is like a hybrid between an elf/fae creature and a cat centaur (that I cannot remember the proper name for). The cat half is based off of Jellie, RIP, and his body is scarred because well I mean the dude is accident-prone it’s bound to happen. I imagine that Scar would wear slightly baggy outfits, like they hang off just a bit to not hug his figure. His hair is more based off of Season 9 with him leaning into the whole elf aesthetic, and I both hate and like the hair but whatever. Idk, I kinda just wanted to make him centaur based cause that visual isn’t something I see often. I imagine that hind legs are weaker than the front so he would switch between a cane and a wheelchair that you would see for animals. I might draw that later idk, but yea

If you actually took the time to read this incoherent mess, idk comment a content creator you like, no matter how niche they may be

[villruu]

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss murderer/stalker + Brian and Alex?

I loved this prompt so much ough (this is just over 2K,,, this was meant to be a drabble lmao). Ended up including Tim (bc how could I not???)

On AO3

Anyways, have the beginnings of the Worst Road Trip, Ever.

This is an alternative ending to Entry 67

⸻

Brian held the gun loosely, staring at the weapon, flicking the safety on, off, on, off, on, off.

It was just the two of them alone now, on the building. 

Tim was probably far away enough by now, Brian thought, he had been too dazed, too lost under the grip of that fucking thing to refuse. For the better, anyways, Tim was always loose and stunned in these moments, and while he always followed Brian’s lead, it was better to not let an unknown variable in a situation as delicate as this one.

He should be just arriving to his car, probably, if he hasn’t collapsed yet, Brian’s inner clock told him if it wasn’t broken beyond repair thus far. 

Maybe, Brian thought almost fondly, this time he would catch a ride with Tim back into town. Maybe this would be finally the time he allowed Tim to see his face during the day again.

Safety on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off.

Alex’s struggles had finally stopped, Brian noticed once he entered the room again.

The other man just laid on the floor, a drying track of blood down his nose, a blooming bruise on his cheek where Tim had punched him particularly hard.

He looked pathetic.

Good, he thought viciously, good.

If Brian could speak normally, if he could speak, he would viciously tear into Alex, dismiss and rip every little thought the bastard had, make him die in distress, knowing that everything he had worked for was all in vain, a fool’s errands, the crusade of a man who knew he was in the wrong and still tried to comfort himself with lies.

Safety on, off, on, off.

But he can’t. At least, Alex will die just like his other victims did, without a single word to excuse the crime, dying without even the grace of knowing.

He can’t help the grin under the mask and he levels the gun at Kralie’s face. His eyes are tired but frowning, both accepting and rejecting what is about to happen. Coward, he thinks bitterly.

Safety on, off.

The gun feels light in his hands, but Brian knows that it is heavy with all the blood it has spilled.

He draws the hammer back with his thumb, watching how Kralie’s pupils shrink at the sound. 

His hands are steady, the most steady they have been ever since this asshole decided to hit him with a metal bar. He wonders if Alex remembers this place, if he remembers that six years ago he found Brian wandering this dilapidated room dazed after the encounter from that thing, if he remembers how he pretended to comfort Brian, if he remembers holding the metal bar, if he remembers leaving his fucking body beneath a bush.

…He doubts it, but he likes to imagine the other remembers.

It makes this whole thing fit better. An irony, a metaphor, a final fuck you to Alex Kralie’s pretentious ass.

Brian moves slowly, to savor these final moments. Over six years of this, finally coming to an end. Finger resting on the trigger, watching how Kralie’s eyes follow each movement. Every hour spent seething, hating, living out in the wild, living as a ghost, forced to ignore every missed call from Tim, forced to ignore his mom’s unanswered texts, forced to live on scraps and hate.

All of that, to finally end in this. Holding the guy responsible for everything.

(Tim may be the origin but Alex Kralie is the truly one at fault. He can manage Tim once he gets this done with, but for now, he gives his everything in his hunt for Kralie. And it has finally paid off.)

It feels a bit weird that Tim is not here, watchful presence behind him ready to attack as he commands, loyal guard dog ready to bite whoever he is directed to. But it feels more real like this. 

Just him and Kralie, alone. 

Only one of them is walking out of this alive, and they both know it.

And as much as Kralie may be doing that thing’s bidding, Brian is the one who knows how to escape the Operator’s realm. He is the one who has spent six years giving parts of himself to escape the Ark, he is the one who knows how to escape that thing’s grasp. As much as Kralie may have unknowingly worshipped that creature, it will not save him once he is left in the Ark.

The camera he holds on his other hand. He isn’t sure what he will do with the tape, just yet, but he will figure something out.

Maybe upload a part of it for the channel, maybe leave it for Jay, maybe simply burn it. 

A way to make this real, perhaps. If it’s filmed, if it’s recorded, then it can’t be forgotten. It can’t be hidden.

(Like Sarah’s, like Seth’s, like his—)

Just as he finally aligns his sight, the gun pointing straight between Kralie’s eyes, is when all goes to hell.

First, the camera stops working properly, screen lagging behind and pixelated.

The humming in his bones grows louder, louder, louder. 

And then, the sensation of something watching.

Brian turns around, and he can see it, can see it slowly leaning out the doorway, still far away enough to run away, but close enough to make fear and surprise fill his body.

Safety on.

Put the gun away in his jeans, shut the camera off, prepare to run away.

Brian’s eyes land on Alex’s figure and he hesitates.

If he leaves, Alex Kralie will get away again.

If he leaves, who knows Alex Kralie is gonna hurt next?

It’d be so simple to just kill him now. Quickly pull the trigger and bolt away.

But he didn’t want the Operator to take the body. The lighter in his hoodie weighs heavily in his mind as he quickly tries to think of what to do.

It shifts closer.

If he leaves, Alex Kralie lives.

If he stays, he will die again.

(Brian can’t go to the ark again, not this soon. He doesn’t have enough to give, he doesn’t have enough, the ark takes and takes and takes and Brian is a husk, he can’t go, not again, not so soon. He needs time, he just needs more time)

Static grows louder.

Everything is normal, he reassures himself, despite how he can feel himself shaking, everything is fine.

It gets closer.

I worry about nothing, Brian tries, but he can feel the static, the blankness slowly creeping on him, cause nothing’s…

Static.

Nothing’s…on…

The shift of rubble. A tilt of it’s head. On the floor, Alex Kralie whimpers in fear.

Fuck this, Brian thinks, crouching down and with shaking hands pulling out the small knife he keeps on him.

Alex tries to rear back at the sight of it, but Brian focuses on quickly cutting the ties, mind going into overdrive as he tries to ignore how he can feel that thing getting closer, closer, cLOSER—

Quickly, before Alex can react, Brian whacks him as hard as he can on the head with the butt of the knife.

Ignoring Kralie’s pained yelp or the way he slumps, Brian grabs him and with a strength purely fueled by adrenaline, holts him up and starts running. He can hear the Operator grow louder, it’s displeasure easy to tell by the way reality almost seems to warp around him, but Brian has long grown used to this.

Without hesitation, Brian keeps running, as the environment shifts around him. 

Hospital, forest, hallway, his house, forest, hospital, forest.

As much as the Operator may try to keep him here, Brian’s sheer adrenaline is enough to keep him going. The longer it goes on, the less intense the shifts are, until he is left alone in the forest, a few miles away from the abandoned building. He’s in Rosswood, fortunately, so it’s easy to orient himself and keep running towards where he knows the park ends.

He can feel Kralie struggling weakly in his hold, but it is easy to keep him subdued, the other too weak from the hit, probably too dizzy to act. Brian would know, he was in that situation once.

As the woods start to thin out, Brian finally spots the parking lot. 

Blessedly, Tim is still there, standing dazedly by his door, mask in place, looking slightly confused about Kralie’s presence but waiting for his cue to know how to react.

Good. Things would be more complicated if the conscious Tim was awake.

Struggling for breath, Brian slams the rear door open and practically shoves Alex inside, quickly climbing in as well.

He gestures sharply for Tim to get in the front seat, and the other does.

Brian struggles to speak, trying to make his mouth say the word drive, but it is useless, still too agitated and filled by adrenaline to take the proper time to force himself to speak. After a few tense seconds, he throws his hands in the air and simply waves at Tim to drive.

The white mask tilts to the side confused, like a dog trying to figure out a new trick, but before Brian can try again, with a burst of static, the Operator appears at the edge of the forest, frighteningly close.

Tim startles, jumping, but thankfully quickly gets the idea, turning the car on and slamming onto the reverse, the tires screeching loudly as Tim absolutely floors the accelerator.

As Tim quickly starts driving away, Brian focuses back on Alex.

Kralie looks sweaty, with a vaguely nauseous look on his face, trying to move as if he were wading through molasses.

It is easy to manhandle him, pinning him to lay on his side, seatbelts easily serving as restraints as Brian tries his best to tie him up as strongly as possible. A few zip-ties still left in his hoodie pocket help him tie his hands together behind his back, quickly tying the feet together as well, as Brian realizes he could still kick.

He does make sure to tie him up while laying on his side. It’s very probable that he throws up from the injury, likely soon, and the last thing Brian wants is Kralie choke on his vomit. He’d rather kill the man himself than let some vomit do the job for him.

After making sure it’s as safe as it's gonna get, Brian climbs into the front passenger seat, dropping with a tired sigh.

Alex can’t see him from the back, so Brian takes off his mask with a sigh, passing a hand through his sweaty forehead. Tim tilts his head slightly towards him, still somehow keeping the eyes on the road, but clearly waiting for an order.

And Brian… Has absolutely no idea what to do now.

After what feels like an eternity, watching the trees blur together through the window, Brian shrugs.

“...House,” He manages to slur out, voice as loud as a whisper, hoarse and gritty. The word is almost incomprehensible.

Tim nods sharply, however, easily understanding him, and something like fondness swells up inside Brian.

Despite their differences (liar, liar, LIAR, FILTHY FUCKING LIAR, IT’S HIS FUCKING FAULT—) Brian can always trust on Tim to understand him, somehow, through the slurring of his voice and the codes in his works.

After regaining his breath, Brian pulls his mask on again and sighs.

Maybe it is time that Brian brings Tim (the real Tim, the awake one, the conscious one) back on board. It would be difficult to shake Jay off, if Brian manages to convince Tim to go fully off-grid with him for a bit, but it wouldn’t be that hard if they’re lucky.

Moving the rear back mirror, Brian looks at Alex.

Once they get far away from the Operator, they can take care of him… Hopefully. It shouldn’t take long to shake that thing off their tails.

…At least, that’s what he thinks until he sees the Operator appear under the nearest streetlight at the red stoplight.

With a startled noise, Brian whacks Tim’s side, the other startling as well once he notices the thing nearby, pressing down his foot on the accelerator and crossing the red light without a single care as to any possible other cars nearby.

Okay, Brian thought calmly and firmly ignoring his wild heartbeat, maybe Tim’s house is not a viable plan.

…

Fuck.

He just waves at Tim to continue driving, and drops his head on his hands. 

Okay, alright, he can adjust to this, no problem. Alright.

Brian grimaces under his mask, trying to ignore the Operator reflected on the rear back mirror.

He’s just currently trapped… In a moving car… With a nauseous Alex Kralie in the back… And a Tim Wright in the front seat who is very close to “waking up”... This is, this is fine.

He did always want to go on a road trip, Brian thinks a bit hysterically as he notices Tim starting to seize up and urging him to move to the side.

Quickly switching seats with Tim, Brian gets back onto the road and tries to ignore the anxiety creeping up on him.

This is gonna be just fine… He’ll… He’ll figure something out.

Surely.

Yeah.

[iamthecomet]

O my o my o my

I saw a tiktok of a man. Who has a belly button piercing. And I immediately thought of Dew, and fell to my knees.

I’m not sure if you’re taking request but I wanted this image in your mind, but if it doesn’t fit your fancy that’s totally fine:)

Anyway what if Dew got one specifically for Aether, because he knew how he’d act. And when Aether finds out he goes full feral. He didn’t think Dew could get any prettier, then he does this.

I've been sitting on this for TOO long. I've been trying to decide how I want to answer it. I headcanon that AETHER has a belly button piercing (because come ON) soooo do with that what you will. ANYWAY. This is uh...nastier than I planned.

It's been a rough few weeks. Dew's had to play the long game--something he is not used to. He hates it. Hates avoiding Aether on purpose, lying to him. But it's all worth it for this moment. When he has Aether in his room, laying on his bed, shirtless and lax. The ruddy head of his cock peeking out under the waistband of his sweatpants. Dew drags his shirt up over his head and Aether makes a choked noise. It's not the usual reverent sigh. Aether's intentional about his praise. He always has a remark when Dew takes his shirt off. Always saying something about how pretty, how soft, how badly he wants to touch.

But this time? There is the strangled moan, and then nothing. Aether's eyes are fixed on Dew's belly. They're usually drawn to the nipple rings. Aether has a thing for piercings, Dew discovered it early on, and exploits it at every turn. Walking around shirtless when he probably shouldn't be just to watch the way Aether hones in on the metal.

But his eyes don't shift up this time. They're focused on the new piercing. The two ball ends of the bar through his belly button. Dew reaches over and thumbs over the ring through Aether's. "We match." Dew doesn't get a response. Not a verbal one. Instead, he's flat on his back on the bed and Aether is on top of him, wedging himself between his legs, before Dew can draw a full breath. Aether kisses him, hard, before Dew can open his mouth to say something else.

Aether licks into his mouth and trails his fingers down Dew's sternum, over the flat plane of his belly to press his thumb to the piercing. It doesn't do anything, not like when Aether does the same to his nipples. But it gives him a small jolt all the same. Connection.

Satanas he's getting soft. When Aether finally tires of his mouth and starts to drag his teeth over Dew's jaw, his pulse, down to his collarbone. Dew finally regains his breath, his words. "You like it?" Aether looks up at him, his eyes wild, pupils blown out. He looks like he's been caught, called out. He grips one hand on Dew's hip hard. He licks his lips. Aether, again, doesn't answer him verbally. He ducks his head instead to catch one of the nipple rings between his teeth. Dew's brain short circuits. Aether is quick, heavy-handed. He flattens Dew to the bed and drags his sweatpants down. He wastes no time prepping Dew and pressing his knees up by his ears to get in as deep as he can. Dew's head is spinning. Pleasure grinding through him from every angle. He grins up at Aether as he fucks into him. Aether trails his thumb over the new piercing again. And this is why Dew waited because he knew Aether would have to touch, to taste, to toy with it. And the reverence on Aether's face is worth all the time he spent trying to avoid this. "Gonna have to get pierced more often," Dew pants as he gets a hand on himself and starts to jerk himself off in time with Aether's thrusts.

"You're so fucking hot, you know that?" Aether growls.

"Only got it because it looks so good on you," Dew says, voice hitching into a whine as Aether changes the angle and starts nailing against the spot that makes Dew shake almost instantly. He rockets towards his orgasm, twisting his hand over the head of his leaking cock as Aether fucks him into the mattress. "Aeth, fuck, I'm gonna--" "Yeah. Yeah. C'mon. Make it messy for me."

Dew has one last fleeting thought about how sanitary it is for him to cum all over a barely healed piercing before he's doing exactly that. Body clenching down on Aether, and bowing off the bed. His eyes roll back in his head with the force of it.

Aether groans low and deep and then his fingers are dragging through the cum on Dew's belly. Slipping over the piercing rolling it between his cum slick fingers. Dew wants to look away, wants to close his eyes against the overstimulation, he can't. Not until Aether throws his head back and cums with a shout. Only then does Dew allow himself to sag back onto the sheets. Aether rolls off of him, their shoulders pressed together as they both come down. "So you, uh, I guess you do like it then."

"Yeah," Aether says with a laugh, "I guess I do."

[ladythornofrivia]

The Imperfection of Sound

In a world of sound, reader is deaf. Until she meets Ran Haitani, who shows her that life is more than just hoping for a miracle.

Pair: Ran x Reader

Warnings: Mature Content, Inappropriate Moments and Adult Language. (if you’re under 18, you can’t read this). Spice. (Spice is nice 😏😎😉)

Author’s Note: For those who are sad from reading the last chapter—I’m sorry. Enjoy this chapter.

(Please report if someone decides to steal/plagiarize my story. And notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter 4: Heavenly

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Ran felt sick throughout the night. He couldn’t bear himself to stay awake, so fell asleep after drinking hot chocolate with chewy marshmallows. He cleansed himself in a lazy fashion—just unbraided his two braids and cleansed his face, brushed his teeth. Then for his outfit, he tossed it aside into the laundry basket for a clean pair of black boxers and loose grey-blue shirt.

He looked up at the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes were deeply outlined and shaded.

If only I’ve been straightforward with her like I did with the others. How I treated others. What made me hold back in the first place? Was I afraid over my confidence? Doubtful? I wish she could tell me. Damn, I hate miscommunication. I didn’t think she’d jump into conclusions. But then, all girls are self-conscious once they see something that makes them uncomfortable. If only I said, “I like you, (y/n), please be my girlfriend.” Everything would’ve been so much easier. I used to be careless of what I said, still sure of myself. What the hell happened to me? I should get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new chance.

Then Ran tucked himself into cold sheets, easing his anxious thoughts roaming. He breathed in…one, two…

Three.

Darkness enveloped him.

•••••

A suckling noise drained into his ears while dainty fingers slipped into up and down motions, kissing noises planted on him.

His throat grumbled, his back hand rubbed his eyes, forcing himself awake to someone straddling him on the bed. With a quick action, his eyes open at his own blanket, formed like a huge tent. When he grabbed the clouded bed sheets, it unveiled a girl. Not just any girl. It was you, pleasuring his long cock with your hungry and pretty mouth. Your hand is dainty compare to his thick girth, sliding in up and down motion still while your lips kissed the tip of his cock, as if French kissing it. The white leak coated on your tongue. Your eyes gazed at him with desire, not the innocent kind, despite your eyes try to claim as one.

“Such a naughty girl,” Ran said with a faint smirk. The widened pupils on his violet eyes relaxed. “Go on, princess, I want you feel my cock in your mouth.”

His hips thrust on your mouth, receiving a low moan droning from you, as you kept sucking his stiff cock, humming.

Usually, Ran met a couple of girls outside of the club. One thing in common girls liked to do is to be seductive towards him, with low hums and subtle touches here and there.

With a final shove into your hungry mouth, his hot semen spurted and drained passed through your throat. As he pulled it out, you swallowed every last liquid. Instantly, he grabbed and pulled you, sharing a deep languid kisses with him. His hand rested at the back of your head as he shoved his tongue against yours. Languid kisses became more lively and desperate—faster and hungrier.

Automatically you plunged his hardened cock into your wet folds, grinding fast as you could, then pounding your ass each time you came down from riding his cock, your lips parted, drawing a loud moan as your head threw back. With a rosy blush on your cheeks, your eyes looked at him with pleasure, you tossed your long hair, riding him faster, moaning desperately.

Ran’s hands groped your breasts, pinching your nipples, as he watched you moaned louder than the last. Your flush skin and face, skin to skin, with yours and his, everything is perfect.

Heavenly.

If only I could tell her how beautiful she sounded.

His arms pulled your upper body down to meet his lips once more, shares deep kisses.

He flipped you over, laying on your backside, as he unsheathed his cock and licked your clit. Nipping them, your hand made its way onto Ran, grinding your pussy until you squirted.

Pulling away, seeing the mess you created on his bed from your wet pussy—your clit is puffed, numbed from Ran’s nipping and licking. Hurriedly, Ran your legs, wedging his cock into your cunt once more, his hands wrapped your legs around his waist as he cradled your head, pressing his lips against your forehead, then tracing his lips down to your jawline, neck then collarbone, then bringing it back up to your lips before heading out to the wide, marbled balcony after unlocking his the sliding door with one hand. With the heaviness of his cock still inside you, each time he moved, the walls in your cu t clutched tighter.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, kissing your forehead before he thrusted, which resulted you screaming with ecstasy on top of your lungs, tears spilling out from your face as you locked your grip behind his neck as you felt your body bouncing from his cock shoving and bruising your walls, immediately immersed, and the arousal grew stronger.

He quickly untangled your legs as you faced toward the high-end view of Roppongi, bent forward as the side of your face pinned down on the wide marble railing as he railed harder. As his pacing went sloppier, yet harsher, he tugged you back, your back pressed against his chest as his lips pressed against your cheek lovingly, whispering, “You like that? You’re so fucking cute when you look like this. People in Roppongi would see how fucking beautiful you are…how your tight cunt is fucking good—your gorgeous body, gorgeous lips, your seductive moans…all hot and hungry for me…if you ever get a chance to get pregnant, I’d still fuck you to oblivion, my little goddess. I love you (y/n)—I love you.”

The semen spurted in you as the last of your arousing screams pierced into his ears before—

•••••

Ran lunged his body forward, covered in drooping sweat. It was still dark—at midnight. He hasn’t gotten any sleep since he last saw you. It was all a big misunderstanding. The girl he randomly clashed with was the birthday girl Rindou mentioned. She wanted to inquired Ran where he was at that night, as Ran tried his best to be civil. He wanted to meet you, by the building where you and him first met—overly self-assured and suave. But with you, his charm dissipated, as if he has forgotten how.

He’s bewitched by your queenly spell.

He kept reading the old messages over and over, the times where he and his heart elated by you, having selfie pictures together and random jokes you guys shared—and inside jokes that you two could only decipher.

But everything seems broken. He couldn’t look at it anymore. He didn’t want to be sober—filled with despair at a new darkened day.

I wish she could answer me. I want to make things right, but I don’t know how.

The birthday girl professed she wanted Ran as her birthday present. Meaning, she offered her virginity to him since her ex broke up with her due to business and education.

As much as Ran politely declined, she still kept pursuing for his attention and affection. He tried not to be obvious to push her away but rather grabbed her by the shoulders to halt her, and that’s where he saw you, your eyes are all but a fatal mourning and betrayal. And now Ran tries in anyway he can to message you, but no answer. He wanted to explain, he’s going to explain, but the outcome was as horrible. How will be able to reach you now?

Just as he was about to contact one of the Tenjiku members to search you, a long outline of hardened cock protruded from his bed blankets.

He wished that everything in his heavenly dream was real.

In the meantime, he has to find a way to mend your heart and pull you back into his world, as you delve into his once and for all.

Taglist: @galactict3a @mrssano04 @penguinlovestowrite @akemiixx01 @f1yh1gh @onyx-blossom @goldenbeskar @sehunnies-hunnie96 @colored-tr-panels

[drfirsnogayny]

Demonic Class AU

Please rate. I want to know that I didn't try in vain and it makes sense to make content on this AU.

Main character designs:

Events unfold within the walls of a mysterious school. One day, one of the high school students disappeared, and this event is associated with demons. His younger sister Lily wants to find her brother, her investigations led her to this very school, where she will have to become a new student.

🏵️ Lily 🍩

A new student who is looking for her brother. Her family are demon hunters, but she doesn't want to hunt them herself. She is learning the art of finding a common language with demonic ones, but so far she only has the art of overtaking and driving them away from herself. The blood color is normal.

🪡 Carla 🪛

One of the few students who is not possessed by demons. She stays alone and hates everyone around her. Especially demons. She has perfectly mastered the art of scaring them away. Hates Penny, but is really just afraid of her. She also loves to create Voodoo dolls. They work, just not on a specific victim. She doesn't like to talk about what happened to her eye. The color of blood is green.

🧿 Penny ⚙️

The head of the class and the daughter of the head teacher. Sweet and friendly, but strict. She is suspected of being possessed by demons or having connections with them, but she denies this. However, she does not tell where her red pupil comes from. Tries to make friends with Lily. Perhaps she knows something about her brother. The color of blood is blue.

🎀 Cindy 🌺

The first beauty of the class and the school as a whole. Basically the stereotypical popular girl who loves attention and doesn't like losers, including Lily. In addition, she is possessed by demonic forces and, of course, serves them. He doesn’t know about Lily’s powers and sincerely doesn’t understand why he can’t harm her. The color of blood is pink.

💎 Felix 🥇 and 🐏 Ted 🥈

Twin brothers whose parents sponsor this school. They are both possessed by demonic forces, but only recently, so their abilities are undeveloped. Felix knows how to manipulate Ted. They also both have a crush on Cindy. It's also worth noting that Ted has a horizontal pupil. The color of the blood is blue and unnaturally red, respectively.

📚 Jerome 🪀

Nothing is known about his family, except that he has an older brother. He is a smart student, but most of his time is spent in the library reading books or helping the librarian and students. He also has a key to a secret room, which only he and a few other people have the right to visit. Lily is eager to get there, and she assumes that he knows something about her brother. His connection to demons or ability is unknown. The color of blood is gold.

🩹 Vincent ❔

A student who is usually bullied. He can often be seen next to Jerome, who, however, is also not averse to offending him. Other information about him is unknown, including his involvement with demons. The color of the blood is probably silver.

📼 Billy 🐟

A student who once disappeared. He is Lily's older brother, and when he lived at home, he protected his sister from danger. He's a demon hunter and wanted to teach his sister how to do that. The color of blood is normal.

I don't have my own idea of how to add the rest of the characters here, so I'd appreciate any suggestions.

Bonuses:

Colored version

Originals:

Oddly enough, I once created Carla and Penny, and then I wanted to draw them. Then I decided to try to create Lily and Cindy, and then it kind of went and now I have AU. And the idea to create Vincent came after I couldn't create Billy to like.

Link

[qierxing]

Venenum

A/N: Yeah this is inspired by the Castlevania anime LOL It may only be September but it’s Halloween vibes time babeyyyy

Yan! Vil Schoenheit x Reader

CW/TW: Domestic Abuse & Violence, Graphic descriptions of gore/blood, nudity, cursing

—

When someone threw open the heavy stone doors of his castle, Vil was fully ready to strike them down for interrupting his skincare routine session.

Well, it wouldn’t be him, but he would’ve sent Rook or Epel to have the idiotic soul escorted out, permanently. But he isn’t sure whether he should be offended or amazed at the fact you march right up to him without blinking an eye at his stunning looks. No, you had the gall to grab his shoulders and look him straight on and ask–no, demand—his help. 

He’s had many mortals come to his looming castle to grovel for things. His alchemy and magic skills are rivaled to none in Shaftlands. But throughout all his millennia years of living, no human had the audacity like you.

“You’re the King of Poisons, right? Can you make me a potion?”

And yet, he didn’t leave you drained of blood, your body ran through with a pike on his walls as an example to any intruders. He could’ve. He should’ve, for all the insolence you’ve shown him. But something in him decided to haughtily scoff and shake off your hands and walk back to his vanity, with you trailing after him screeching like an overgrown parrot. It’s only when he whirls around and squeezes your cheeks with an admonishing scowl that you finally shut up.

“Look here, spudling, we are getting one thing straight.” You make an indignant muffled noise in response, but he ignores you. “I will help you, but you are the one making this potion.”

So began the long days of teaching you. There were several nights that made him think about going back on his word. Sometimes, when you end up squandering the few roots left in his supply or shattering his precious glass beakers, he thinks about just giving into his common sense and devouring you as his next meal. But he’s Vil Schoenheit, and there was never anyone he couldn’t transform into the perfect ideal version of themselves. So he keeps helping you pore over large grimoires with inky diagrams and descriptions and stir in dubious ingredients in the large cauldron.

He doesn’t know when and how, but something changed the way he looked at you. You were sometimes slow, but you were not stupid, and your intuition was brighter than any mortal he’s encountered before. And though even Epel had scowled at the way he overbearingly nagged him, you take his criticisms in stride and proactively ask him for his feedback. Usually he hates earnest personalities, but for you, it’s strangely fitting. It came to the point where even Rook would tease him for treating you so sweetly for a ‘lowly mortal’. (Rook was then ordered to hunt several hundred birds in punishment.)

He didn’t think to ask why exactly you needed this specific potion until one dark night you stumbled in with bruises and glassy eyes. For once, he can’t find it in himself to scold you for your unkempt appearance, only taking your shaking body to his room and telling Epel to draw a warm bath. You don’t even protest or voice anything as he undresses you, slitted pupils only dilating at the splotches of bruises and whip marks littering your whole body. But what really, really, truly turns his vision red, is the old scars and faded bruises that are side by side with the new ones. 

He gently lowers your battered body into the warm water, filled with mugwort and other herbs to help with the pain, and there’s only silence in the large echoey bath chambers. His mind is racing as he softly wipes away the dirt irritating the wounds: who would do such a thing? Another question comes to replace it before he can help it.

Which bastard does he need to send to hell?

When you are finally wrapped in one of his softest bathrobe and given a hot cup of chamomile tea, Vil finally decides to break the silence.

“Spudling–”

“Please, Vil…” He’s instantly hushed by your cracked voice. “Just…don’t ask. I…I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

He purses his lips, his dead heart finally churning with conflict and anxiety. No potion work is done that night, but you don’t know that after Vil tucks you into bed, he walks out and summons Rook to his side immediately.

“You know what to do.”

“At your command, my King.”

Vil has Epel preside over you while he goes and decides to actually take a look at the potion you were making. 

Lead, arsenic, belladonna. These came together to make the most poisonous brew, but something confused him. Why is it that the potion was diluted? And you made barely enough for three doses? This amount wasn’t even enough to kill a fully grown mortal man.

When Rook appears by his side at the cauldron with his usual smirk and bow, Vil only snaps at him to report right away. His nerves have become so frayed in worry that even his right hand man only raises an eyebrow before continuing.

How did he not see it? He wonders to himself, as he gazes at the crude iron ring donning your ring finger. The jewelry, if he can even call the embarrassingly sham that is barely the shape of a ring, lumpen metal clobbered together hastily. The metal was already beginning to rust, leaving chafe marks upon your raw skin. 

It tortures him to do so, but he lets you leave in the morning, murmuring your apologies and thanks as you draw in the rough straw cloak around you. As mighty as he is, he is still weak under the harsh sunlight, and he would rather unleash his plan when he is at full strength under the cold moonlight. You don’t see how his eyes darken as your figure walks toward the town center.

You had the potions you needed to make your escape. No more will you suffer under your spouse’s hot anger and fists. After this, you’ll be able to free yourselves from the shackles of marriage that you once willingly put on.

Everything shatters however, once your spouse finds the very bottles for your plans.

“You think you can just leave me?!” You scream in agony as a heavy boot stomps on your leg, and you feel your femur shatter under the weight. “After everything we went through, you think you can just go off and whore yourself out?!”

“Damn you! I’ll kill you! That’ll teach you not to mess with me!!” Sharp glass bits embed in your clenched palm and you close your eyes and brace yourself to the inevitable.

“That’s quite enough.”

The familiar voice has you lurching your head up despite the resistance on your neck. “Vil!...” You can only choke out in relief as the tall vampire kicks back your partner with a disgusted scrunch of his face.

“Vil, thank you so–” Vil’s eyes freeze you in place as something cold runs down your spine. You’re not the target of his wrath, but even then, it’s scary to see his eyes blank and devoid of any emotion. 

You can only watch in terror as he slams your spouse against the wall without breaking a sweat, choking him in place. 

“Your blood isn’t even worth drinking, dirty pig.” What was he…oh Great Seven no—!!!

The choked scream gets caught in your throat as your spouse’s head quite literally explodes, flinging bits and pieces of his flesh everywhere. You can only flail back as Vil tosses his mutilated body aside, more fresh blood spurting from his cracked open neck and staining the wooden floorboards below. 

Vil only clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I can’t believe my robes are now dirtied from that scum.” When he turns to you, his displeased look only deepens at the way you stare emptily at your spouse–nay, your ex-spouse’s– corpse. 

He picks your still form up easily, and maybe it’s the scent and the feeling of blood on your skin, but you finally thrash to life, begging him to put you down, to let you go, and he only scoffs at your impertinent attitude making a comeback. 

“Dear, I do hate getting dirty. So be a good darling and stay still.” HIs words alone, even if not imbued with curse power, is enough to get you to flinch back and obey. He can only sigh at how far he went just for you. How much has he sullied himself to make sure your beauty could never be lost to time? 

He makes quick work of taking your ring and crushing it completely to ash in his hands. But you start to stiffen in true horror when Vil noses at your neck and breathes in deeply.

“Perhaps we can find you a much more suitable alternative to that trash.”

If you could tell yourself that the beatings of your former spouse could not compare to the burning pain of Vil’s fangs within your flesh, would you still have gone to him?

[dross-the-fish]

Soooo, since Halloween is around the corner, could you possibly write (or draw if you feel more like it) Adam and anon participating in some Halloween activities of your own choice? Thank you!! ☺️

(And on top of that I want to thank you for sharing your art and writing and thoughts on these characters and stories, I really do enjoy whenever I see your stuff on my dash. Sorry if that overly sweet, but I do mean it 😅)

Thank you so much anon! I decided pumpkin carving was the activity for this drabble. Modern setting drabble because I don’t know what Halloween was like in 1918 London.

Adam turned the pumpkin over in the palm of his hand, the gourd looking comically small in his grip. He inspected it for flaws before presenting it to Anon.

“What about this one?” he asked.

Anon examined the pumpkin and gave a satisfied nod, “Perfect! This is an excellent jack-o-lantern pumpkin!”

Adam grinned, “How will we carve it?” he asked as he unconsciously tugged the hood of his sweater a little further down over his face. Though the times had changed and people in the 21st century were more tolerant of those that were different, Adam Frankenstein still felt anxious about being exposed. Halloween was one of those rare times when he could go out without being stared at and he’d come to appreciate the holiday. Among the other ghouls and monsters he didn’t looks out of place.

Tucking the pumpkin under one arm he held out his free hand for Anon to take. Anon did, grinning up at him and chatting eagerly about their ideas for carving the jack-o-lantern. On the way home they picked up some sweets and Anon suggested they attend a costume party later in the week.

“Are you sure I should do that? I’m not easy to buy costumes for. What would I even be?” Adam asked as he crawled out of the car. The vehicle was a tiny thing and Adam hated to ride in it as he was forced to sit with his knees halfway up to his chest and his head bent so it didn’t hit against the roof.

“Whatever you wanted!” anon replied, “I’m going to be a werewolf, maybe you could be a vampire!”

Adam grimaced, “I’d sooner not, vampires are real and their condition is a tragic one, as is the case with werewolves. I have known both in my life.”

Anon stared at him, “One day you have got to tell me your story. You know most of us aren’t aware that monsters are real.”

“They aren’t monsters, they’re people, some of whom choose to do monstrous things. The werewolf and vampire I knew were both kind people doing their best to cope with their illnesses.”

“Point taken. Though that cuts our costume options significantly. What about zombies?”

“Also real. Also tragic.”

“Witches?”

“Hrmm, I’ve never met anyone who called themselves a witch but it wouldn’t surprise me if they too were real and tragic,” Adam mused, his tone full of gravity and seriousness but a twinkle in his eye gave away his good humor.

“Alright, we can figure out the costumes later,” Anon chuckled leading him into the kitchen, “let’s start carving our pumpkin and I want to taste some of this candy!”

“Isn’t that for the trick-or-treaters?”

“Shush, it’s called the grown-up tax, we get a cut of the Halloween candy!” Anon insisted selecting a sour gumball for themselves.

Adam laughed and shook his head, he found modern candy to be too sweet and it always tasted a little odd so he declined when Anon offered him a piece.

“You can keep my cut,” he gave the pumpkin a small tap, “Sharp fangs or square teeth?”

“Fangs of course!”

“What about the eyes?”

“Can we try for slitted pupils? Like a cat?” Anon asked, by now they were familiar with Adam’s skills as a wood carver and hoped his talent extended to pumpkins.

“I don’t see why not. Give me that knife so I can hollow this out!”

Together they made short work of the pumpkin. Anon left most of the carving to Adam and was satisfied when he produced a sufficiently scary jack-o-lantern for them. Anon pulled out their phone to take a picture and Adam sidestepped out of the frame.

They frowned at him, “You carved it, you should be in the shot!” they protested.

“Are you going to post it online?” he asked anxiously.

“Not if you don’t want me too, we can keep it private,” they replied.

Adam nodded, “Please do,” he said allowing Anon to lead him back into the shot and positioning him so that he was holding the pumpkin.

Adam smiled awkwardly. He had never grown comfortable with being in photographs, he’d allowed it once, at Quincey Harker’s insistence that all of the companions should have a commemorative photo of the whole group together…so that those who survived could keep a memento should any of their friends be lost.

Photographs were much more difficult to produce back then.

The smartphone flashed a few times until Anon was satisfied with the result. They noticed that Adam’s smile had faded.

“What’s the matter?”

He shook his head, “Forgive me, I was remembering something from a long time ago,” he touched Anon’s phone with a wistful finger, “The world has changed so much in such a short time. I was remembering the last time I sat for a picture for a friend. How much of a project it was.”

“I forget that you’re old,” Anon put their phone away and reached out to give him a hug.

He stiffened then relaxed into their embrace with a small sigh, “That’s the hardest part. I am not old…I watched them grow old, those that still could, while I remained unchanged. The world is kinder now, it is also smaller, sometimes I feel lost in it,” he smiled down at the pumpkin, “But I think also that I have found my place in it and life, even when it brings me anguish, is still very precious to me. Thank you for sharing your traditions and your celebrations. I am fortunate to have found a friend in you.”

[askdannysroleswapau]

"proof of concept" design for Voidball + some pupil designs from '22 (back when he still had a tail)

quite a lot has changed! a few key design details have carried over from this one (chipped ear, singular eye, and the heart-shaped hole in the torso), but many aspects have since been scrapped or reworked

design notes under the cut! but be warned! its just a little under 1k words

before we begin, there's this phrase that i'm going to be using a lot and you ought to know what i mean by it!

the phrase is "design philosophy" and in simplified terms, its a set of rules or principals one follows when designing a character. there's a ton of different design philosophies and they vary wildly depending on the medium, the team behind it, the art style, tone and even country of origin!

the one i used for Voidball is a mix of my own observation/analysis of Rob's character design and some principals that the team of Across The Spiderverse used for The Spot. here are the rules i eventually settled on!

remove as much recognizability as possible from the character's appearance, save for their physical stature and select features (eye/mouth/hair/ears/etc.) the end result should be almost entirely unrecognizable

details such as textures, markings, or accessories must either be done away with or heavily simplified

use sharp angles wherever possible, rounded shapes must be sparse (can you tell which part i gave myself more leeway on lol)

do not clutter the design or over-complicate it; principal of Occam's razor

now, let’s get started!!

Head and Ears

i set out with the intention to give him a similarly complicated head shape to Rob, but i quickly dropped this idea because i hate drawing complex geometry! the slice taken out of the head, however, ended up sticking around! you can see some examples of what was dubbed the "sliced melon" head in the doodle dump post.

you can see that the ears have stayed about the same, although i now avoid drawing them with super defined geometry. out of all of the details carried over from this design, the chipped ear is my favorite :)

Eyes

those pesky eyes! i wanted to keep the singular eye, but at first i was unsure of what to replace it with. you can see here that i initially replaced it with an isolated box of static. this looks bad and is not visually appealing!

as i began to imagine static functioning as more of a viscous, liquid substance, i decided to cover the left side of his face with a constantly dripping river of it, obscuring the eye completely. this is both easier to draw and more visually interesting! plus it removes recognizably, which was very important to the design philosophy.

as for the right eye, the pupil shape depicted here has two sharp triangle indents in it.

while it was an interesting idea, it looked too similar to the eyes you see on rubber-hose animated characters, which wasn’t what i wanted. the other three ideas i sketched had similar ideas regarding negative space, but all of them would eventually be scrapped.

as it turns out, the original pupil shape works for a reason! i learned there that going against the original philosophy would not end up working in my favor. i went on to pull many future design elements directly from Rob's design, such as the doubled pupil!

Upper Body

his left hand was originally disconnected/fragmented from his arm/wrist. while cool in concept, this was eventually dropped because it was too difficult to draw consistently. oh well!

his torso/waist were originally more cylinder/sphere-shaped to contrast how Rob's design is made of squares/polygons. again, i have since decided to follow the original philosophy instead of going against it.

my favorite design detail for the torso is the heart-shaped hole in their chest! it is by far my favorite thing to draw :3c

Lower Body

you can see that their waist was more of an elliptical shape here; the legs were also cylinders devoid of much static and largely maintained their patterns.

also notable are the missing portions of the legs. the right leg prominently features a jagged empty space below the knee and a missing section near the hip. this aspect was dropped to simplify the design and remove recognizability

not so much as a note as it is a funny tidbit, but the feet aren't meant to look as if they've been attached at the heel. i just drew the legs before the feet and didn't bother erasing the overlapping lines.

this design wasn't meant to be super solid or well-thought out, i just needed to get the general idea down on paper, and that's what i did! :)

Tail!

ah, the static tail! the visual style of the tail was meant to hearken back to the scan lines you see on old VHS tapes.

as cool as this idea was, it conflicted with him needing to have gained a pig tail in The Future, which i consider to be crucial to the story progression. hah! i love getting to write stuff like that.

having a tail also made him more closely resemble Gumball, which conflicted with rule #1 of the design philosophy. on top of that, i had already used the static tail idea in The Sister, and i felt like recycling it for another character would cheapen the impact of that moment.

and so i revoked his tail privileges. a tragic, yet necessary sacrifice 😔

and with that the notes are done! i don’t know if anybody will actually read this, but i sure did enjoy writing it!

[nicosavior456]

Adventures of Chika Hanabusa: The Restoration of Earth.

Disclaimer: This book follows the events of Percy Jackson and Heros of Olympus fanfic, This fanfic will not include Trails of Apollo, The Kane Chronicles, and Magnus Chase.

Prologue

Gaia PoV

AGH I can't believe it; how can I be defeated by those demigods? I should have waited to regain my full power. These demigods are foolish enough to think that these burns can destroy me. I am the Earth itself, I will be back.

Just as I keep thinking to myself, suddenly a man came up with the shadows inside my consciousness. He has shoulder-length black hair, eyes that have no pupils, wears a black suit, his skin is pure black, and he wears a mischievous smile.

"Long time no see, dear sister.  I know that you brainwash my dear wife and brother to go after little kids and then you have the nerve to kidnap my son Thanatos. You foolishly think that you can get away from this. What happened to you sis, I thought your main goal in life was to protect those that live under you, but now you become someone you hate. No matter I will have my vengeance on you for hurting my family. I will seal you into a pure-hearted demigod, a demigod who doesn't have a malicious bone in her body, a child of Demeter if you will. Btw I brought our eldest sibling with us” The shadowed man says, or should I say my troublesome elder brother, Erebus. Right next to Erebus is a teenage girl with long red hair, green eyes, freckles across her nose, white pants, and a blue t-shirt with paint strains all around it.

"Hello Gaia, it's me Ananke and Chrones, but my mortal friends just call me Rachael, Rachael Elizabeth Dare. Now you be wondering is how I can be two primordials, you can say I'm a fusion, anyway, that's not what is important. I'm going to help my dear brother Erebus to punish you for what you did to mortals and for brainwashing our siblings to do your bidding. To be honest, you had it coming for hurting innocents and for being a bitch for the past millennia, hopefully, you can behave with the demigod that we will seal you in. Goodbye, sister." Ananke, or Rachael as she would prefer, helped Erebus chant in the old language of the primordials and I can feel my essence scattered to the air, all across Earth, and I was put in some type of coma by Erebus's spell. Erebus has always been a meddlesome brother, I can’t believe that Erebus and ‘Rachael’ managed to get into my consciousness and cast this sealing spell on me, I have underestimated them and now I will be stuck with an evil, conniving demigod. I will come back from this humiliation.

Erebus PoV

Gaia has it coming for a long time, but for now I will save Nyx and Tartarus from her manipulation.

“Go save our siblings Erebus, in the meantime I will still disguise myself as a camp oracle. I will make sure those pesky Olympians will lose their power in the future and that there will be better leaders that will end the cycle." Rachael says in a neutral tone, I guess our eldest siblings have a soft spot for mortals after all.

“You know I was just about to do that eldest sibling; it is strange how both of you guys decide to fuse and then disguise as mortals, but I’m not going to judge you. See you in a couple of years” I say in a carefree tone, and I waved to our eldest sibling. My physical form has become like a shadow, and I feel my essence shadow traveling to the realm of Tartarus.

I saw my brother Tartarus, under the spell of Gaia, about the strike the killing blow to his giant son Damasen, but then I use my shadow body to cover my brother's body to contain him. I can feel Tartarus trying to struggle to get away from my body, but I managed to draw a rune on his body that puts him to sleep and can break Gaia's spell. I let go of Tartarus' body once the rune took effect. The giant, Damasen is shocked at how I managed to knock Tartarus out. I notice the titan, Iapetus, has grievous injuries around his body and I manage to heal the titan with my shadows.

“Why did you help us?” The giant asked with uncertainty.

“Well, I never expected to see you here as well Damasen, did you join your brothers to wage war because the last time I saw you, you were working at the farmer. Anyway, I came back to help my brother and wife to be free of your mother's brainwashing. You just happen to be on my way to my wife, and I decided to heal Iapetus because he was the underworld janitor and can't have Hade's janitor to be in bad condition since he was the only one who was brave enough to clean after Cerberus. Plus, it's hilarious that the piercer has a new identity that goes by the name of Bob. It's ironic how Iapetus ruled the underworld before it was given to Hades. Well anyway, you, your half-brother, and your father should rest. I'm going to deal with my lovely wife and make sure my kids are alright, can't believe your mom kidnapped my son and put his doors in Tartarus. Your mother is such a pain Damasen, btw he brainwashes your father and my wife for her stupid scheme to help your brothers to overthrow Olympus. See you later” I explained in a cheery tone as I walked toward my home, The Mansion of Night.

“How did my mother brainwash my father? he’s the pit, well it doesn’t matter. Uncle Erebus will you help Iapetsus and I to get out of this realm” Damasen shouted in a loud voice.

"I will help you nephew, but first let me save my wife quickly. You will need your father's permission to leave first since it is his realm, which he gladly will. I know it's hard to believe that he loves you and your sibling, but he wants you and your siblings to be happy. Tartarus was so happy that he was impregnated with you and your sibling. It was so hard to let your mom take you from him but he understands that he's a bad environment to raise you a lot, he trusted Gaia to not turn you and your sibling to become her weapons against Olympus. I will be honest, I don't care for Olympus at all, the only Olympian I care for is my boy Hades, really wanted to adopt that guy. Your father tries to stop Gaia from waging war, but you know how your momma is a sneaky girl, she stole my spell book so she can brainwash your father and other primordial to do her bidding. Anyway, you should talk to your father for closure. Now I must leave." As I walked toward the Mansion of Night.

"WAIT, YOU TELLING ME THAT TARTARUS IS MY MOTHER AND GAIA IS MY FATHER," Damasen shouted in horror.

"Tartarus will explain the truth once he is awake. Now please stop being noisy. While you were busy being loud, I put a force field way makes you undetectable to other monsters as you can see the shadow ring in your area. Now stay inside while I save my darling” I say as I pointed to the shadows surrounding us. I moved out the forcefield that I created, you think I will tell you how I do that, well my readers, A real magician doesn’t review his secrets, so figure it out yourself.

I got inside the Mansion and luckily my adorable kids didn’t detect me, I don’t want them to be involved with this mess. As I saw my beautiful Nyx laying on the couch, I decided to take my physical form and sneakily put the rune on her back.

“Who are you and you dare touch me, I’M THE NIGHT AND WHY DO I FEEL TIRED AT THE MOMENT” Nyx shouted as she fell asleep, this rune should help her break Gaia’s brainwashing spell and relaxes her. She deserves a break from all that stress, she looks so adorable sleeping.

Thanatos, Hypnos, Eris, Nemesis, some arai, Moros, Oizys, the Keres, Geras, and Charon started to appear with Nyx shout but then they just stopped and just tackled me to the ground and they have tears of happiness that their awesome dad has come back, despite their dark and depressive domains, they will forever be my adorable kittens, I’m the luckiest being alive. Pretty sure the Keres stabbed me out of affection with their scythes.

“Sorry kids, I’ve been gone for so long, your crazy aunty Gaia try to brainwash me to fight her war, but unfortunately, she was successful with your mom and uncle Tartarus. Well anyway I miss you guys and I got ice cream, we have to be quiet, so we don't wake your mommy. She's a hardworking woman, hopefully, she didn't try to hurt you guys while she was brainwashed." I said in an anxious tone, knowing Nyx, if she hurts any innocent being, she will be horrified by her actions. Nys is such a gentle kindhearted being, I'm so glad I married her. I'm the luckiest god alive to marry this wonderful goddess and have these awesome kids.

"Father, she usually just sleeps in her room a lot and usually shouts a lot. She does have huge headaches and just pushes us away for our protection. One time two demigods pretended to be tourists to trick her, I guess they were on some quest. It was a trick, but we played along since we were bored. Mother was fooled rather easily, I guess somehow the spell made her dumber. Mother is arguably the smartest being that I know, right next to you Father. Another time she confuses me with Eris whenever Eris tries to prank her. The spell has been messing with her a lot that she can't think clearly.”Nemesis explained in an emotionless tone, I can tell she is concerned with her mother's health, all of them are.

“Why are two demigods in the Mansion and Eris, have you been misbehaving and giving your mom a hard time," I said in a half-annoyed and half-amused tone.

"Yes Father, I pranked Mother at times, but I swear it was nothing serious. I will make it up to her I promised." Eris said in a remorseful tone, it is my daughter’s nature to cause strife, but as long it wasn’t serious then it is fine, but deep down I know that Eris is a loving daughter.  She’s just mischievous like her dear old dad.

“Well kitten, you can help make some good food for your mom. You guys want to have ice cream first, I got chocolate, mint chocolate chip, some cookies and cream, some vanilla, some yellow cake.” As I take out ice cream cartons, my kids were greedily consuming the ice reams with the spoons they created out of thin air.

"Hey Dad, I'm glad that you are back, but I worried for Mother. I wasn’t with her because Gaia kidnapped me and have her son, Alcyoneus, but luckily Percy Jackson, Hazel Levesque, and Frank Zhang free me from capture.” Thanatos says in a worried tone.

“I’m glad that the three demigods saved you, my son. Nyx And I never wanted you kids to deal with this dumb drama with your aunt and her bloodline, so we moved inside your uncle Tartarus. If I wasn't endlessly pursued by your aunt goon, I would have saved you myself Thanatos. I'm just glad you are ok." I say as I hug my son, It is good to be home.

This is for you @sakuraazharuno @hazellevesquelover @yuzuna123

@miuyuki-snowfall @carelessflower @hotpotrandomfics @heroes-of-olympus-next-gen @chairmenmeow @xxsmexyprincess6969xx @thecreatorandcreation @tinkerbelle05 @xx0yeet-everything0xx @0lympian-c0uncil

@sparklezfallsinlovewithbooks @sonofthedeathless

@struggling-author @sophie-cullen @bloody-arty-myths @artistic-kombat-and-mythology

@overanalyzer @villainsandvictimsalliance

[ph4ngz]

⁺˳✧༚ scandalous… ༚✧˳⁺

★ (Kaeya x Fem! Reader, love/hate relationship-ish)

—

You shouldn’t be doing this. You really shouldn’t be doing this.

Kaeya had asked you as a friend to keep him company whilst he dealt with some paperwork, of course you happily obliged but… not without your entire body heating up with his every movement.

He had told you to stay put so he could get you both a cold drink and ask Lisa for a certain book, leaving you in his room with nothing but his scent and your thoughts.

You found your underwear beginning to dampen with each passing second, your skin burning up and blushing.

You tried, you really did! But you couldn’t stop entertaining the dirty images of him in your head. Imagining you both in all sorts of ways.

Kaeya, Kaeya, Kaeya…

You could touch yourself just a little, right? Just until he comes back?

You open your legs the tiniest bit and lean back in one of his desk chairs, the skirt hugging your hips crumpled by your wrist between your thighs. Fingers pressed lightly on your covered clit, circling round and round til you throw your heavy head back.

Surges of guilty pleasure make you feel dizzy, and your tummy does backflips. The intense paranoia that Kaeya can walk in at any moment is exhilarating, but you’re struggling to keep your heavy eyes trained upon the door.

The excitement causes you to shift in your seat and bring a hand around your neck to lightly choke yourself. You wish you could spread your legs more, but that’d be way too risky.

Applying pressure just beneath your jawline is enough to draw a quiet moan from your lips. Fuck, if he saw you right now…

Holding the rest of your breath as you come closer and closer to your release, you fail to catch the door open.

Kaeya stands surprised for what seems like an eternity to him, holding two glasses of chilled dandelion wine and a large book under his elbow.

He can’t say he wasn’t expecting it, though. He could clearly see before that you were getting flustered. So he decides to take you by surprise instead, sneaking behind you while your eyes are closed in a moment of yearning.

Gorgeous.

The obnoxiously loud sound of glass being placed on the desk is truly terrifying in your situation. You freeze and attempt to stifle a yelp once the Captain’s hands place a tight grip on your upper arms.

Kaeya stands over you, eventually bending over slightly to whisper in your ear, all the while removing your stiff hand from your neck and not the one on your clit.

“Grand Master Jean, it appears that our little helper has succumbed to performance of indecent acts in the Cavalry Captain’s own sleeping chamber…”

His hushed tattletale can only be heard by the two of you only, yet the prickling fear it provokes is unmatched.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You hiss nervously, pupils blown.

Your reply doesn’t faze him at all, in fact you can practically hear the way he’s poking his tongue out.

“Scandalous~!” He whispers with an expression of fake disbelief. Asshole.

Still holding your wrist, Kaeya reaches to take the other one frozen beneath your skirt. A strained whimper and a rise of your hips tell him all he needs— wants, to know.

“Don’t tell me you were close to fucking cumming…?” He makes sure to over-pronounce the last two words to intimidate you. It works.

You wish that he’d stop humiliating you and that he’d just hurry up and tell you to get out, but who the fuck are you to assume Kaeya Alberich will let you get away with this.

“And to think I caught you with your own hand around your throat… unbelievable.” He continues, letting go of your arm to trace a few shapes beneath your chin.

Before abruptly squeezing the raw skin beneath your jaw, similarly to how you were doing it. A strangled groan passes your plumped lips at the sudden action.

Just as suddenly as it happens, it stops. Although now he’s stood in front of your sorry state, looking down at you. You miss his heavy touch already.

Focusing mainly on his huge, skilled hands, you watch as he takes a sip from his wine glass. He appears to swallow it.

Then, he pulls you to a stand so he can kiss you. The kiss is rushed, dry… until the dying fizz of dandelion wine floods over your tongue, some escaping from the corners of your mouth as he continues.

Kaeya pulls away, satisfied with the sheen on your lips created by a coat of his sweet saliva. Satisfied with the sound of your laboured breathing and rosy cheeks. Satisfied with your small hand covering the outline of his hardened cock.

“Eager much?” He spares a glance at his lower half, smirking.

“Fuck you, just fuck me.” You swallow any remnants of wine and push him so his back is against the desk.

“Feisty…”

[nonbinary-beast]

heyhey so i love your AMposting a lot and would be super interested in making some art of your AM(if that’s ok with you) in other words, im asking for a description of how you imagine your AM? i know he’s around 12 feet tall and humanoid, but not much else. sorry if this comes off as rude at all i just really like your concepts!!

To be honest I'm surprised anyone wanted to draw the one I've interpreted lmao. I don't mind if you want to draw them, personally I kept the description vague since the idea I have for AMaton is still a wip, and I wanted to focus more on what it does instead of how it looks. That said I do have sketches if you're not put off by something that looks like something out of heironymus bosch/baphomet-esque in that it is something of a chimera of different creatures into one entity.

Once I get the sketches I have down for it I'll probably post drawings of my own, but until then I can give you something to go off of, I love seeing different interpretations. This will be under a cut since the description got a bit long.

AM is I interpret it, has a body that is 12 feet tall, they are powerful in build, well muscled, they resemble something along the lines of a heavyweight weight lifter/wrestler in body. There is nothing light weight about it. It does have something along the lines of feminine curves, in that the shoulders and hips are wider than the middle, but its not super noticeable. But it also does not opt to go fully human either, it does not really want to associate with the creatures it hates so dearly.

The hands are human, but if it wishes the tips of the fingers can become thick, hooked claws, like a massive eagle ( I have not decided whether it just wills them into existence or if they are just retractable). It's legs are slightly digitgrade, looking like someone whom stands on the balls of their feet or their toes instead of going fully bestial. The four toes are not tipped with great claws, but instead look like something akin to an early prehistoric horse, digits with hooflike coverings on the ends (if you want something specific, look up Eohippus).

The face is the furthest thing from human. It is a mix of beasts into one terrifying visage. A long snout that seems nearly skeletal sprouts from a head with four eyes that have bluish green pupils and black scleras. Two of them face forward, the other two point to the sides like grazing animal. The forehead is long and sloped, there is a ridge down the middle anchoring powerful jaw muscles. Behind its lips are teeth that looks like something out of a prehistoric fish; very blade-like (dunkleosteus is a good reference for this). The ears are like those of a big cat.

Overall its surface appears to move like liquid metal, very smooth and fluid. There's not much in the way of bolts or seams, and the tech it stole to make it is so far flung in terms of technological prowess as to appear organic instead of highly mechanical. It shimmers like chrome and is highly reflective like a mirror.

AMaton tends to walk without clothing, it holds pride regarding its body and frankly holds no feelings of modesty or shame regarding being nude.

[asteriax63]

Oc introduction

Hey guys, I figured I could tell you something about my Ocs to keep you guys entertained.

Dracie:

Dracie Moguera is (my persona and Oc at the same time) an angel. She has red hair and red eyes (I can draw her and show you what she looks like). Her best friend is a furry dragon (yes, a literal dragon with fur) named Soren. He has white fur and blue eyes and he can fly like Dracie. Dracie's personality is based off of me so if you get to know me better you will know how she behaves. All I can say is; she's kind and caring but if your someone she dislikes she will actively hate on you. She's pretty stubborn and prideful, though she's shy and doesn't have much confidence. If she dislikes you she won't look at you and won't cross your path.

Soren:

Like I already said he's a white dragon with fur. (I haven't given him a lot of personality/ I kinda neglected him) Once I shipped him with Dracie (which is so weird), so I guess he once had a crush on her?? I think he tries to be cool and tries to be a badboy.

Carmilla:

Carmilla Cerona is a vampire. She lives in a mansion in the woods. She lives with 4 other people: Ruth, her best friend, Nosferatu, also her best friend, Heather, I haven't decided what relationship they have and Bernard, same thing as with Heather. She's really kind but looks very strict. She's french and has kind of a heavy accent. She has short black wavy hair and pink eyes with cat pupils?? She likes to wear black and red clothes. (I have this headcanon that she smokes sometimes)

Ruth:

She has long black wavy hair and green eyes. She likes to invent new things and always shows Carmilla her inventions. She's also a really nice person. She also loves to talk to others. She wears a red long sleeved shirt with a brown vest and she also has goggles on her head (Dracie also has goggles but since she doesn't fly often she almost never wears them).

Nosferatu:

He has greenish-greyish skin and a yellow sclera. He has long straight white hair and a beard (but like only on his chin). When I first designed him he looked ugly af but I made him pretty. He looks like he's gonna kill you but he is actually kind. He loves tea and books. (I headcanon him as a librarian (do you write it like that??)) He wears mostly black. He wears a black suit with black tie and a white shirt underneath. He's the tallest of them all. He's very calm and mostly observing. Also I sometimes ship him with Ruth.

Heather:

She has short red hair and blue eyes. She doesn't like Dracie. And she's bestie with Bernard. (Maybe I ship??) Honestly I gave her absolutely no personality. I dislike her tho.

Bernard:

I don't know why but I made him look like a winx character. Like literally he's built like one. He has orange hair and ALWAYS wears a white suit. At first he disliked Dracie but he likes her now kind of. Like with the others I gave him absolutely no personality.

I do have a lot more Ocs but I'm only gonna share these for now. Please send me some headcanons of these I need a personality for them.

[snowybitch1237]

Decided to give that aesthetic journaling thing a try. I don't hate how it turned out. I'll probably get better as we go

[image description: a watercolor paining of a crawlid, surrounded by various aesthetic cuttings. The crawlid is a metallic blue-grey with white highlights and grey legs. Its one visible eye is black with an orange pupil, and its mandibles are white. It is walking over some grey pebbles, and white tufts of grass surround it. Above it is its species name, Crawlid, written in cursive, and a description that describes it: “Timid scavenger that crawls through the caverns looking for food.”

The rest of the page has various paper cuttings and stickers. The largest of the cuttings are in the top right corner and to the left of the crawlid painting. The top right has a paper cutting that looks like several newspaper scraps overlaid on each other, with a monochrome drawing of a wildflower on top of everything else. To left of the crawlid is a similar cutting that shows a butterfly with orange and black wings. Both cuttings have their corners ripped off to accommodate the crawlid painting.

In the top left is a red plant with ruddy leaves and bright scarlet flowers that grow in clusters. To the right of the crawlid painting is a sticker of a big leaf with leaves opposite each other along the stem; it is a similar sepia tone to every other cutting on the page. In the bottom left corner of the page is a notecard that says “Dull and pathetic. Hardly worth killing.” The notecard is overlapped by another leaf sticker, which is bigger than the previous one. The leaves are also arranged in a more triangular pattern. To its right is an oval cutting that has a drawing of a 1.50 dollar stamp on top of an envelop, as well as a green sprig of leaves. In the bottom right corner is a brown butterfly that has text on its wings. The right half of its body is mostly covered by a black wax seal that has an intricate pattern of a sword wreathed by flowers and leaves on it. end image description]

Thank you @flecks-of-stardust for the description on discord. Hope you don't mind that I used it 😅