#and also there's sometimes a dead body in the background or he's walking through an alleyway visibly shaken

[generalllimaginesss]

https://www.tumblr.com/generalllimaginesss/737276766654185472/how-many-pick-up-lines-will-it-take-to-get-you-to

what if she starts flirting back and gets him all flustered

I was going to work on a some different things, but I kept getting this request so we’re gonna roll with it :)) thank you for requesting!! Part 1 is here.

also....3 goals in 1:09 seconds....wtf devils???

••

"Dude, you can't keep hitting on my sister. She's not interested, man," Your brother and Jack were messing around on the outdoor rink that was set up in the backyard.

"I know, I know," Jack sighed passing the puck to your brother.

"Do you though? It's been 16 years and you're still going at it with her," Your brother's eyebrows raised as he shot at the goal, the puck ricocheting off of the top bar.

Jack rolled his eyes, snatching the rebound and attempting his own shot. He made it, watching as his friend was getting off the ice. Jack joined slowly.

"I think if she got over herself and actually gave me a chance she'd be surprised," Jack caught a glimpse of you watching them from your bedroom window. He waved at you, but you responded with a middle finger as you closed the blinds.

"Maybe, but she hasn't for this long, so maybe you should chill," Your brother couldn't care less if Jack dated you, but the constant flirting was aggravating sometimes.

"Maybe," Jack mumbled, batting off the snow that had accumulated on his hoodie before walking inside.

The boys made their way to the living room, grabbing a couple of blankets to help warm them up from the cold. Your brother had put on a random football game, basically for background noise as he began to doze off.

Jack busied himself until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs followed by your appearance as you walked into the kitchen. He watched you quietly, taking in the details of you. You had stolen your brother's sweatshirt, wearing it with a pair of leggings and fuzzy socks.

"Hughes, I know I'm hot, but you're staring is creepy," You said, nonchalantly, pouring a glass of water before turning around. You faced Jack, his smile greeting you.

"I like a self-aware woman," He commented, the blush that rushed your face adding fuel to his fire.

You leaned on the island, forearms flat on the cool counter, the wrinkles on your forehead evident from trying to figure the boy out. He was cute, you'd give him that, but you were never into hockey guys. The more you thought about it, it wasn't anything personal with Jack. He had never done anything to make you hate him, you just didn't let yourself like him.

"Now look who's staring," Jack smirked, the tension from the eye contact between the two of you could be cut with a knife.

What the hell...the house was a little boring, it could use something to make it more interesting with Jack here.

You glanced over at your brother, making sure that he was dead asleep before you had your fun with Jack. His mouth was open and drool was threatening to spill over, so it was safe to say that you were safe from there being witnesses to what was about to go down.

"Maybe I like what I see," Your voice was darker than normal, dripping with sultry as you walked around the counter towards Jack.

His eyes were wide, looking around him to make sure there wasn't anybody else around that you might have been talking to.

"Don't worry, I'm talking to you," You assured him, pulling the blanket off of him as you sat on his lap.

He had many dreams about you, but he had never imagined something like this actually happening. His throat was dry, lips parted as he tried to get over the shock of the situation.

"What's wrong, Jack?" You wrapped your arms around him, your lips inching near his ear, "...cat got your tongue?"

"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, the nerves coursing through his body constricting his vocal cords. He could feel goosebumps rise on his arms as you placed a set of kisses down his neck.

Your lips broke contact with the delicate skin on his neck, bringing your face inches away from his. His face was beet red, his usual flirty self long gone as you had taken control.

"You know, I have some pick up lines," Your voice was barely a whisper as you kissed closer and closer to Jack's lips. The teasing was driving him insane. If it wasn't for the shock of your actions, he probably would have taken advantage of the situation. However, the shock prevented him from doing anything, freezing him as you had fun with him.

"Yeah?" He croaked, your lips headed back toward his neck and close to his ear again.

"Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?"

Jack was breathing hard, probably the reason your brother was beginning to stir awake. Before he could see what was unfolding, you had removed yourself from Jack's lap, watching as he scrambled for the blanket to cover himself before your brother could see the product of your fun.

You could feel the daggers from Jack's glare as you walked back to the kitchen, grabbing a banana and beginning to peel and eat it.

There was no way Jack was letting this slide. What was once playful flirting had just turned into an all out war. He sure as hell wasn't letting you win the game that he had mastered.

Your brother was awake, scrolling through his phone, unaware of what just happened.

Jack's eyes were dark as he stared at you, you staring right back at him.

"Later," He mouthed, preventing your brother from hearing.

You smiled, holding in your chuckle as you walked away, but not before looking him in the eyes and giving him a wink.

"We'll see," Your smirk burned into the back of his eyes.

16 years of going after this damn girl and she just randomly decides to pull this stunt? And all he could do was just sit there and take it? No way was he going to let her gain the upper hand over him...

*

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*

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[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

What happens when science experiment!reader has a nightmare? (Given her background I imagine she’d get them, right? I mean, whenever she does actually get to sleep, that is…)

Also I love you ari. You’re a gift to this fandom and I hope you’re good xxxxx

Jason woke up in a cold sweat, eyes glowing green and his heart racing. Blood singing in his ears and his muscles seized in sheer terror.

In the hall, distantly, he heard a scream. And other places he heard doors open and slam shut. Heavy steps on plush carpet.

Except the feeling didn't go away. It kept going. Pushing adrenaline through his body. Telling him to fight- when there was nothing to fight. He stifled a yell with difficulty and got out of bed. Opening his door just in time to see Bruce sprint past him "Stay, " he barked.

But- when Alfred was just ahead of him- disappearing up a different staircase that would lead to your room- well. "Like hell," he grumbled. He forced himself not to run. Not to follow years of training to run IN to danger. Into the epicenter of the panic.

And when another scream ripped through the manor, it stopped him dead. He'd heard screams. A lot of them. He'd caused them. But nothing had ever been as soul rending as that was. It made him feel like someone wrapped a frozen hand around his heart and squeezed- hard.

When he could move again, he ran.

Skidding to a halt at your door. It was like a seen from an exorcism movie- almost. You were contorted and your breathing was ragged. Crying. But instead of swearing and hurling blasphemy you were begging. Apologizing. All you wanted to do was go home.

"God damn them," Alfred swore, his hands trembling as he fumbled a kit open.

"She's too far into it now; we can't just wake her up," Bruce grunted, struggling against your sweat slick skin. Trying to get a grip on you and also respect your modesty. He glanced up to see Jason in the doorway, "Help me or get the girls. Don't just stand there."

He hesitated for a moment, and took a deep breath before stepping into the room and walking to the bed. He wanted to go home once too. "You're gonna be okay," he mumbled. "I'm scared too right now." He glanced at Bruce, "What are we doing?"

"Simple injection. It's just the nightmare cocktail. Upper thigh then recovery position," he said.

Jason nodded and helped Bruce shift you over. Realizing that the issue wasn't just that you were sweaty and wriggly but that you were stronger that average and ALSO fragile. So the extra pair of hands made it a lot simpler to hold you in place for Alfred to jab you with a device that looked a hell of a lot like an epi-pen and wait for the horrors to subside.

And gradually, they did. They could watch it happen in your body. Like a wave receding. Where there had once been an all consuming terror there was nothing. A void.

"You'll be alright now, honey," Bruce said stroking your sweat damp hair and exhaling slowly. "You're okay."

"Is she-" Jason started, not sure what he wanted to say, swallowing hard.

"She'll keep her distance for a few days," Alfred said, patting his shoulder, packing up the kit. "But she'll be alright. Lead lining in her walls only does so much."

"Lead?" he asked.

"Trying to dampen it some," Bruce said. "After her first nightmare she hid in the woods for a week afraid I was going to put her back in a cage... Sometimes I think she's still waiting to wake up to a door she can't get out of."

[sunraies]

a smut where rafe is streaming but reader (she/her) gets horny and is teasing him behind the camera and the conversation get to the point/topic about onlyfans 🙈 AAAAH IM SORRY BUT I DREAMT OF THIS LAST NIGHT AND I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT AHAHAHHAA 🙈 help me out here please 🫶✨ thank youuuuuuuuu

I tried, only proofread once as always with smut

Distraction

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings- +18 MDNI, smut, fingering, reader teasing Rafe. Dirty talk.

As requested above. Rafe is on a live stream, and you distract him.

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Throwing the book down on the bed and kicking the blanket of your legs. You sighed in frustration. You had just read some absolute filth and had a million thoughts running through your head with no Rafe to help you.

You could sort out your little problem yourself, but ever since you began dating Rafe, it wasn't the same. You often found it just made you need him more, and that made you even more frustrated.

His voice and laughter carried from the spare room, his streaming room of your shared house, as you dug around in the bedside drawer. You smiled at the buzz of your bullet vibrator before it suddenly stopped.

"Fuck" you cursed at flopped backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating life. You knew your own hand would be no good. "Fucking asshole" you muttered to yourself.

Once you heard his laugh again, you sat up suddenly and came up with a plan to get what you wanted. Stream time be damn, you needed Rafe.

Rafe started his streaming career three years ago. He had started with videos of the crazy shit he and his friends would get up to. From yacht parties to setting off fireworks on the Country Club golf course.  People ate up the crazy rich lifestyle.

Over time, and as his fan base grew, while the videos became wilder, they also became calmer. Sometimes, he could sit live in front of the camera and just chat. They still loved him.

"Yeah, so we won't. We won't be. " Rafe stumbled on whatever he was explaining as you stood in the doorway. You had caught his attention the moment you leant against it.

'Hi baby,' you mouthed, stood in only his white shirt and lacy black lingerie.

He shook his head, trying to regain focus on what question he had been asked. He was thanking all the gods that the camera was the other way round so no one could see how, drop dead gorgeous you looked.

"So, as I was saying. Top won't be sticking a firework up his ass, again. " He tried to explain as comments flooded the screen, everyone wondering what had suddenly him so distracted.

You sent him a wicked smirk as you trialled a hand down your body, right to the panty line. His eyes roamed your body with your hand before they snapped up to yours, daring you to do it.

"What am I looking at?" He read a comment aloud before smirking."Well, I'm looking at the most gorgeous site on the planet"

You felt your cheeks heat up, but didn't want to back down as your fingers slowly dipped below the panties and began circling your clit. You bit your lip so as not to moan while your other hand cupped your breast, playing with your nipple through the thin fabric.

"Yes. It's my girl. " He kept eye contact with you before raising an eyebrow as you frowned. He knew it wasn't giving you any relief.

His followers knew of you. He never kept you a secret, but your face was never in his videos. He wanted you to have some privacy, but sometimes you were in a photo or in the background of a house video. Most of them seemed to love you, too.

"Come here, baby." He held a hand out to you

You hesitated before walking over and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He covered you the best he could and made sure that your face was cut out. Luckily, the only part visible was your torso.

"I think I'm needed for something. But you'll have a new video by the end of the week. " He spoke to the camera again. "Three words, foam, pool and party"

He reached over to stop the stream before comments asking for only fans videos with you and saying how amazing you looked, caught his attention.

"What do you think, baby?" He whispered in your ear, squeezing you tighter, his hand holding you thigh. He made sure your legs weren't visible as his thumb brushed against your lace covered core. "Would you join me on only fans?"

You knew he had one. It was something he often got you to help with, but you had always been behind the camera.

All you could was nod before he placed a quick kiss on your neck.

"She said yes." He smiled at the camera. "Maybe there'll be a video up later. Bye"

He quickly shut everything down before humming and kissing your neck again, peppering from your jaw to your shoulder with kisses.

"Would you really like that, pretty girl?" He gently run his fingers over your folds, feeling how soaked you were. "You like the idea of people watching while I make you come undone"

"Yes, Rafe." You breathed, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he forced your legs open wider. His hand  harshly played with your clit, making you jolt forward.

"Let's get you warmed up, baby." He continued to tease you before slipping in two fingers, pumping them slowly. You gasped and rocked into his hand while his other hand played with your breast.

"I want them witnessing how you scream my name and to hear you cry when you desperately want to cum. My good girl" 

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hot car and hot love

John Allerdyce (Pyro) x girlfriend!reader

warning : +18, smut, p in v, oral f reciving, car sex, semi public sex (in the void), fire play, hair pulling, light choking, praise kink no use of Y/n

Summary : There wasn't much to do in the void, waiting for the daily round to look for new food for Alioth. They practiced their skills, avoided Casasandra and well, Pyro and his girlfriend decided to spend the daily tour a little differently, with something more than just the heat of his fire and more with the heat of love and lust.

info : as much as i need sweet fluff from time to time i need something more hotter from time to time so now have fun here and see you next time have a nice day you guys

ps : The gif is from @daisytachi check out her blog

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There wasn't much to do in the emptiness, you could drive around in a handful of vehicles, you could practice shooting with weapons or train your skills, but most of all you could walk past Cassandra with your eyes down and pray that she wouldn't turn her head in the truest sense of the word.

But otherwise there wasn't much to do in this void let alone at the base of a dead giant or superhero, she didn't know in her universe there was never such a hero or mutant on the contrary her universe was pretty normal except for the fact that the earth was flat and she wanted to look down from the edge but before she could do that she had landed here and had spent most of her life here.

Again this could be seen good or bad but she had met him a few years ago her hope in this nothingness of endless space was John or initially just Pyro.

A teenager her age when they both arrived here, a mutant like her with the powers of fire manipulation while she had the ability of sand creation and guidance which was why the reason she was still alive was thanks to Cassandra, ,,A desert and such a gem don't we need it?" were the bald one's former words when she saw what powers her new recruit held.

But it was also her powers as well as his while they were both still alive, they were some of the strongest mutants here, powerless against her but most of all useful for the Rundafhrten, useful enough not to be killed and to catch that pesky Johnny Storm that Cassandra had been wanting for some time.

So the two hunters and seekers had next to nothing to do under the heat of the sun that was only sporadically covered in clouds, ,,Can't you tame the sun?" she asked as she had a hundred times before, holding a hand to her face as she looked up at the sky. She heard his sigh, but it was followed by a grin.

They both started asking each other stupid questions when they were bored and it was one of those days when there was nothing to do but nothing, ,,Can't you tame the sand? Maybe from my shoes," he replied to her question and rose from the old armchair before the sand rose above the two of them, blocking the sun that would otherwise have come through the perforated ceiling.

Immediately came a satisfied sound from Pyro whose hand lay on hers and he kissed it, ,,Thank you my beloved lady," he quipped before she rolled her eyes and brushed the sand from his body with a hand gesture before she sat down in his chair and started flipping through an old comic book.

Some comics were really good, some were just bad and others had a good flavor but you had to find them in the void first, ,,I don't think anyone new is coming here today," the man mumbled, looking out the window at the desert whose dunes held a few stones and old broken buildings, sometimes dead bodies and sometimes living ones.

Continuing to leaf through the comic, ignoring the dirt on the pages, she let the speech bubbles continue to write further into the story, ,,If you say so," she mumbled dismissively, only half aware of how he was working on new tools for the car while from somewhere in the background someone had once again put on a record and a song echoed through the base.

Even though her eyes went to her boyfriend every now and then, he had taken off his jacket and had a simple top hanging on his body, covered in engine oil and dirt, with wispy, slightly styled hair and a flame that gave him a little more light to be able to see everything properly.

,,Do you want to keep looking? Or get a show? Or something else?" he asked and turned to her, her gaze very much on him, because of course there was always a certain thing to do when you seemed to have too much time on your hands, John stood up, threw the wrench carelessly to one side and walked towards his girlfriend where he sat down on the edge of the chair.

He drew a few circles with his hands on her arm and was slowly taking the comic from her when the door to her room opened and a green mutant jumped in and a tongue grabbed the comic, ,,Cassandra wants to send you two lovebirds on the next patrol…I can come too," he said and withdrew his tongue, catching the lewd look in the orange eyes behind the glasses.

The pair stood up and they walked past their "friend" she smiled at the warning from John, who was once again threatening to turn the green one into a French dish, but they all knew that they would gradually lose their minds here and that they would have to find a way to get under their tongues - they all knew that the long tongue was good for something.

They walked out of the room with a snap of her fingers they heard Mortimer shouting that he had been hit by the sand and cursing after them, but they were already on their way to the vehicles, ,,Someone was really hot," she said, running her fingers over his shoulders and down his arm, watching the still-turned-on look on his face as she sat down in the passenger seat, which was dark leather approved if you ignored the heat, and John continued to watch as he installed the part in the engine.

,,Maybe this patrol will get even hotter without cooking a frog," the taller one replied, throwing himself into the car with her and letting the engine roar to life before the steering wheel turned and the others opened the gate and the car with the faded flames took off into the desert where they would hopefully get more excitement.

Hours had passed, hours in which clouds passed overhead, hours in which the sun seemed to get warmer, hours in which their sand could only give them limited relief, hours in which they actually found a few pieces of equipment, metal replacements and desecrated a few bodies, they were now at the halfway point and decided to take a break under a ledge.

,,Is it worth drinking the soda? Or throw up later?" asked John, taking the warm soda from the car and joining her under the ledge where she had scooped up the sand and the pair sat down on a blanket, ,,Well, when else do you get something sweet?" she replied before the two smiled and risked opening the can and taking a few sips, both faces slightly screwed up at the amount of sugar they were hardly used to but it still tasted pretty good, as good as something could taste here in the void.

The surroundings were fine, there were shadows, the sun was retreating behind clouds, they were far enough away from the base not to be disturbed and yet close enough to be able to call for help, but that was the last thing they wanted.

They had other things to do, the younger one soon watched John move the fireball in his hand with the help of his flamethrower and turn it into her, her image running around, spinning and dancing a little, ,,Someone looks good? Who is she?" she asked, carelessly throwing away her empty can and leaning against the accepted stone, which was the only thing to lean on while she looked at John.

The woman saw this flame in his eyes a way that showed her he was thinking of something special, ,,Well this woman is beautiful, the most beautiful flame I have ever seen, a smile that enchants and a power that is deadly" he described her he could even get the siluette to run to her making the heat so low she barely felt it, she looked into her little image wearing a short dress instead of the heavy clothes.

She created a chair out of sand for her little image and John put the flame on it, ,,But I love deadly, lust just too much for these deadly deeds from burnt to suffocated…say what about you?" he asked and let the flame go out before he also leaned against the stone and looked at his love, who made his image arise out of sand with her hand movement and let the little pyro turn and look at his big image.

She saw Pyro's smile as he looked at this small image of her as she created herself out of sand and let the two of them dance, ,,I see a strong man in whose dark eyes there is always fire, I fly to him like a moth to a flame…he is inviting and makes my body heat up" she said, letting the two small figures of a dance roll on the ground in a heated love making before the sand ungratefully swallowed them up like the void.

She didn't have to look at John to see that there was a slight bulge in his middle, that in this madness the lighting and smothering of bodies was perhaps arousing one a little too much as it should, perhaps it was a cry for help that they had each other no matter what it was, it caused her to move herself and John through the sand into the car, folding the seats back and having John beneath her.

Her hand placed on his chest, clothes coming off one by one, his hands moving against her body, ,,I love you," he said breathlessly through the kiss and a hasty movement as he moved her clothes from her body into the car and onto the ground, warmed by the sun as the wind blew rarely and pleasantly around their bodies.

,,I you even more my hothead" she replied leaning down to him her hand on his torso feeling his rapid heartbeat his own hand grabbing her breast massaging the soft heated skin enjoying her emerging pleasurable sounds he locked her in another kiss.

As the kiss deepened she felt him massage her breasts again while her fingers found their way to John's hair, pulling him away from her every now and then, she saw the lust in his eyes, the brief hiss when she pulled too hard, the cheeky smile on her lips when she let his lips touch her body again only until she tore him away from her again.

,,So teasing, huh?" he asked, his fingers pinching her nipples, a loud yelp coming from her lips as a tingle ran over her body, her fingers clutching at him as she moved her hips slightly, her center trying to get rubbed, hearing his grunt as her center rubbed over his bulge, the more he pinched her sensitive nipples and twisted them slightly, her noises increasing and he kissed her heated skin apologetically.

They both knew that there was much, much time to be had in the void, it was lonely and endless so they didn't mind being in the "public eye" or that the usually strong Pyro could be easily tamed when they were together, a big one could quickly become small with a few gentle gestures, a few sweet words and a little teasing, he was molten coal in her fingers who would do anything for her.

But just as much they both loved it the other way around, his fire spreading its heat, taking her in, hands gripping her body tighter and tighter, leaving marks as hot as fire.

Pyro detached himself from her she settled on the folded seats his kisses up her legs he felt light bites left over them he licked them apologetically her fingernails scratching the leather his other hand buried itself in his hair he pulled lightly, ,,Someone is needy," he winked, kissing the last of her soft thighs before he pushed her legs apart slightly, guiding her a little before she leaned back, moaning as she felt his tongue lick over the sensitive nerve spot.

Her thighs closed around him, the sand around the car shifting from time to time due to her loss of control, Pyro seemingly looking for support as the gasoline from the car ignited and the ball of fire approached her, ,,Burn ah-fuck John…burn me," she mumbled, feeling his fingers tap her thighs, a sign that she shouldn't move.

He wouldn't burn her if she moved, despite her hip movements resembling his rhythm as much as possible, she moaned sweetly and painfully every time the flames reached her skin, muffled by the sand that protected her as soon as she could be harmed, and after a short time there was a burnt smell in the air as the sand slowly turned to molten glass from the hot fire, but it didn't bother either of them.

The pleasurable sensual sounds drowned out this worry and everything else as her fingers clutched his hair tighter and she heard his pleasurable muffled licking and slurping noises as John caught his breath every now and then and they met in a kiss before he found himself between her thighs again.

She could feel his arousal rubbing against her leg again and again, he was hard and as much as she loved his tongue she loved his cock too, ,,J-John I need you now" she breathlessly let out as she let go of him, the man stood up as best the car would allow, his dark eyes following her gaze on his hard cock.

Seeing his smile as he spread his arms invitingly, ,,I need you fucking more" he said just as breathlessly she closed in for another intimate kiss hearing him place himself one last nod between them they parted and she finally felt him inside her the two adults groaned the heat and sultriness of the environment clinging to them making everything even more heated unbearable and erotic.

His thrusts at first were just too considerate as if he was trying to make the situation as sweet as possible but when suddenly her sand closed around his throat out of reflex John's hands closed around hers in the smear of a lash their lips found each other, needy and lustful both gripping tighter and leaving marks as they drove each other harder.

,,Come on, you're a big boy, show me," she challenged him, playing for a moment with a strand of his hair, hearing his giggle which turned into a moan as she wrapped her legs around his hips as he pushed harder and faster, taking it well while praise left her lips as she heard his grunts and moans.

She knew he needed the praise, the twitch of his cock in her cunt was proof of that, but her own clenching and unclenching when his hands released her half tightly and took her breasts roughly gave them exactly what they needed, letting go of each other knowing that it could all be over at any moment.

From praise to moans and grunts, the sounds of them both increasing, she could feel her orgasm coming close the first time so now the tingling increased as her slightly rapid twitching and John's own thrusts became more uncontrolled, ,,I'm going-will fuck…you're so good," she heard his breathless babble nodding only knowing what he meant made him realize it was okay.

The moment passed as John thrust towards his end, she leaned her head against the hot leather as his fingers continued to stroke that little nerve spot before they clung together, moaning and crying out as the orgasm came over them both, holding each other for just one more moment of that brief peace together, he pulled away from her and lay beside her.

She felt his hand warm and covered in silence but comforting on her own as their eyes met and a smile formed on both their lips as they lay in each other's arms for just a moment before they knew they had to go back to avoid losing their heads because they wanted to share moments like this more often than just a few times.

Together under the hot sun of love in the emptiness where they only had each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@thefandomqueen2882 , @arisja3701 , @paintmekala , @seancekitsch , @oceansrose2002

Thought you all would like it

[bebx]

So I'm not in the Harrow fandom but like, what would happen if he met Henry (or Eddie because I'm biased w my boys) or Jack?

Harrow is a crime show from what I can tell?

Just curious what your thoughts are.

*for my other moots and followers, this is about Henry Creel from Stranger Things, not Henry Morgan from Forever (though I love both Henry’s very dearly).

okay, a little background for my beloved Doctor Daniel Harrow (played by the one and only Ioan Gruffudd)

Doctor Harrow is the main protagonist of a series called Harrow, and he’s a talented pathologist who’s… well, highly stubborn, so he doesn’t follow the rules and always does things his own way. he can be reckless and arrogant, some people call him selfish (also a pain in the ass) but in a good way, and he’s a good person. (he’s also extremely gorgeous it’s insane.)

so basically in the show, we often see Harrow conduct an autopsy to determine the cause of each body’s death. except that sometimes (most of the times) Harrow does more than his job description says, and goes out of his way to investigate things by himself if he suspects a foul play was involved. and he’s always right and basically he’s the one who solves crimes with his stubbornness and recklessness and also his talent.

I love this show so so very much. it’s so very good, one of the best shows I’ve ever watched, and it means so much to me (and I need a season 4).

now back to your ask! I call it a sign because a crossover between Harrow and Henry Creel is actually something I’d been thinking about writing for like a couple of months now. then I got your ask and I was like ‘now this is a sign. I really have to write it into existence!’.

so here it is: a modern age AU Stranger Things where Henry and Harrow met!

anyway, I think, if we’re talking about canon Stranger Things, I think Harrow would never be okay with Henry’s actions, what he did (the massacre, which, for the sake of the plot, never happened in the crossover fic I wrote). he would never condone the abuse Henry went through, but that didn’t mean he’d think the massacre Henry committed in canon could ever be justified.

I mean… I don’t know, that didn’t mean Harrow wouldn’t understand either (understanding something =/= condoning or justifying something). because, in the series, Harrow himself also had his own dark secrets that he had to hide. so I think… Harrow would understand why young Henry felt the need to kill his parents. but adult Henry who murdered those kids in canon? yeah, I think that would be another story.

from how I see it, if Harrow could, he would have done anything and everything to stop adult Henry from hurting innocent people. that meant either he or Henry would end up dead, because Henry would have to kill him first if he wanted to go ahead and hurt those innocent people.

however, Harrow also had the tendency to do anything and everything to protect the people that he loved. so I think it would depend on who Henry was to Harrow. if Henry wasn’t a friend, then I think Harrow would stop at nothing until he stopped Henry (and yes, that meant either Henry killed him or he killed Henry). but if they were friends, then I think that would be where things got complicated. because while, in canon, Harrow used to break laws to protect people he cared about, what adult Henry did was still something I really don’t think Harrow could ever accept or condone. so, even if they were friends, I think Harrow would still do anything in his power to stop Henry. he would hope he could stop him by putting him behind bars so that Henry was at least alive and so that Harrow could try to help him walk the right path, but if his hands were tied and if stopping Henry meant killing Henry, I think Harrow would probably go with it still, only because he didn’t have any other choice. and then he’d probably blame himself, thinking maybe if he’d done something differently he could have saved Henry. but basically Harrow would end up with yet another lifelong trauma.

(good thing is that the angst isn’t this severe in that crossover fic I wrote, so don’t worry, they’re both okay there!)

moving on to Eddie Munson. if Harrow met Eddie, oh I think that would be interesting and nope, it wouldn’t be anywhere as angsty as his meeting with Henry, that was for sure.

I think Harrow would see Eddie as a son, and Eddie would see Harrow as a father figure of sorts, a role model even.

in the show, Harrow did (almost) have a troubled son whom he looked after. I think if he met Eddie and if Eddie had a rough childhood, was somewhat troubled, then Harrow would step in and look after him.

As for Jack Sparrow, I think these two would probably find each other annoying at first. But after some rum, I believe they would be some sorts of a chaotic duo who caused shenanigans together.

Harrow and Jack are actually alike in several ways in my opinion: both are stubborn, reckless and Harrow sure can be mischievous.

so yes, him and Jack together would be hella fun.

[thesnazzysharky]

A Character Analysis on Specimen 9 (Aka Taker)

Made a post about this on Reddit. Might as well put it here too. Spooky's has a lot of interesting, albeit, unnerving creatures. From an eye stabbing puppet, to the physical embodiment of trauma, to a demon from hell that feeds people mind manipulating burgers, and many others.

Then there's the oddity that is Specimen 9. Aka Taker. The specimen doesn't have a locale or spawn like the others do. Instead either spawning if you afk for awhile or showing up if you get stuck in the endless hallway.

At some point in the game you would probably run into its CAT-DOS entry, with the screen either freaking and glitching out if you played the original version or the entry not giving you any information on the creature aside from the ominous "TO TAKE THE DEAD" line being repeated over and over if you played the HD Renovation.

Then you get to the climax of the game. After reaching 1,000 rooms, getting through the exit, and being met with a fake outdoors area, Spooky shows up and is visibly upset at the player getting this far without dying. That is until some strange roaring/groaning sounds are heard in the distance and she becomes happy again, coming up with an excuse on the spot to make the player keep going.

Being met with a bleak and colorless environment with soothing, yet unnerving ambiance playing in the background, you come across a table with a radio that states "I'm taking all those "logs" they keep throwing out... and I'm nailing them together."

After walking around a bit and going through a door labelled "731", the Taker suddenly appears in front of your face and starts to slowly take on a new form as it makes groans of, what sounds like to me at least, pain. Going from a disembodied head to a full on human, albeit, a skinless one with an overextended jaw. After that, you're thrown into a boss fight.

It's not a very hard fight. You'll most likely beat it in one go and either get the good and bad ending and... that's it really.

To new players, Specimen 9's boss fight will most likely come across as a cool, but pretty random and out of nowhere fight. Especially considering they'll most likely go through the entire game and not see Specimen 9 once. Not to mention the unanswered questions. Why was this specimen, out of all the other ones, chosen to be a boss? Was the radio on the table spouting nonsense or did it actually mean something? Why is its room number labeled 731? Well, now we can start diving deeper into Taker.

If you go to the CAT-DOS machine and click on "Modify House Layout" six times and then click on Specimen 9's entry, you gain access to its actual written entry and some other specimens. Specimen 9 is a clay-like creature that somehow survived Unit 731. The Unit 731 that performed the most atrociously horrific and inhumane experiments on men, women, and even children and babies. That and overall being sadistic and cruel to their subjects. Not even viewing them as human beings by referring to them as "logs", sometimes killing them just to play around and not even for "experimentation", or forcing them into sexual acts either for "experimentation" or simply because they could.

This explains the "I'm taking all those "logs" they keep throwing out... and I'm nailing them together." line. The "logs" aren't literal logs or written logs, but test subjects. Corpses of the victims that were thrown out after they were exposed to the violent and often fatal "tests". The nailing them together part of the line could imply that the voice on the radio is either one of the "scientists" explaining how they created Specimen 9 or Specimen 9 themselves explaining about what they're doing. After all CAT-DOS does say that it's drawn to dead bodies.

That's not the only thing that the Unit 731 connection explains, as it could also explain the motives of Specimen 9. Apparently he was too hard to contain. Too hard in fact that he was killed and dismantled by GL Labs, yet survived somehow anyways, leaving him as a floating head. The entry doesn't go into the detail on why he was hard to contain, more specifically, why he didn't want to be contained in the first place. Well, considering the last "scientific" facility that he was in? GL Labs probably reminded him too much of Unit 731. Causing him to make multiple escape attempts before most likely killing the scientists in a fit of rage after they tried to kill him and left him as a floating head. This is where we can form a story out of Specimen 9.

He used to be a regular and ordinary guy. That was until he was forced into being a test subject or "log" at Unit 731. He mostly likely suffered and went through agonizing torture there before finally dying. Somehow, perhaps simply through paranormal means, he woke up as a strange clay-like being. He wasn't human anymore. He was a monster. A thing. He strangely felt drawn towards the dead and wanted to make those corpses they would throw out apart of himself. Maybe because he wanted to gain more power to get revenge on the scientists. Maybe because he wanted to piece himself back together after his body was mutilated. Whatever the case, he did what he did. Taking the "logs" and "nailing them" to his body. Perhaps after that he killed the scientists at Unit 731 and ran away to hide in Russia.

Then he was found by GL Labs. He was considered very effective, but he kept making escape attempts. He despised being there. The scientists and facility reminded him too much of Unit 731. Perhaps he was treated horribly there as well. Being seen not as a human being, but as an object. A "log" like how the Japanese viewed him. He was killed and left as a head due to the scientists at GL Labs getting tired of his constant escape attempts, he survived however, and most likely made those scientists pay by killing and taking them. He was now known as the Taker.

Taker stalks the player in the base game the moment they go into their first room. Trying to take their body when they find the chance so they can piece themselves back together. They never get that chance, however. By the end of the game, we enter into this lifeless area, perhaps a recreation of sorts of Unit 731. Taker finds what he needs there and is able to become humanoid again. Seeing the player as a dangerous threat, he tries to kill them.

The Taker is a former ordinary guy that just wants to be human again. To be seen as human. To become human. To put himself back together and escape into the outside world to try to live a somewhat normal life. Unfortunately, he never gets his wish. He dies in all of the endings in the base game and Doll House DLC. Although the good ending in the Doll House DLC is probably the best outcome for him. He gets to rest peacefully. No longer being a monster filled with rage and hatred. That is his story. In my personal interpretation anyways.

Unit 731's inclusion in this game and its connection to Specimen 9 has to be the most disturbing and mind blowing realization once you connect the dots. I'm not sure how I feel about putting real life tragedies in video games, especially in one that's kinda goofy like this, but I think the way that it was implemented here was the best and most tasteful way they could've went about doing it. It's very vague and not very in your face with the way it's referenced. Every Youtuber that I have seen play this thought the radio meant "logs" as in actual wooden logs or written logs and not a single one picked up what 731 meant. It's something you'll only really discover if you go out of your way to look for it or pick up on if you're a history enthusiast like the character we play as.

Perhaps that could be used as criticism against the game, but I think it's an interesting way to go about it. There's just a unique and special kind of horror about going out of your way to find out what the deal is with this floating red skull, only to have that horrifying realization once you connect all the dots and realize what it's supposed to be referencing. Bonus points if you were like me and didn't even know anything about Unit 731 and read through the whole entire Wikipedia page. Shit is the stuff of nightmares. I wanted to dive more into Unit 731 and the other horrific things the Japanese did during WW2, but I quickly stopped once I read about what they did at Nanjing. Tears were overwhelming my eyes at that point and I couldn't handle it. It makes sense why Taker was chosen to be the final boss. Reality will always be more horrifying than fiction.

Anyways, that's it. I really like Specimen 9 and wanted to make a post that's just praising and appreciating him. With this and the two great dlc's this game has to offer, this odd but charming little game will always stick with me.

[whatsthethinking]

Alignment: part one

Lo’ak x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Eywa finally hears Lo’ak’s pleas for her to bring his brother back but instead of a brother, Lo’ak receives howling winds with lashing rain and a warrior… who eats people?

➴ Warning: mentions of death, loss, mourning, mental health and violence. Let me know if I’m missing anything.

➴ Word count: 1.6k

➴  Note: I kind of hate this lol. I wrote and rewrote it so many times. I wanted to give a background into the Sully family before getting into the story but... Yeah idk. Also, I was thinking of naming the reader but I’m not sure. Let me know what you think.

[preface]    [two]

Losing a loved one is not a pain you wouldn't want anyone to endure. The feeling of emptiness that fills you, a hollow ache in your chest that continues to grow as time passes. It is said that time heals all wounds, but if you asked Lo’ak, he would stare you dead in the eye and tell you that it’s complete and utter bullshit.

It wasn’t until about a month after Neteyam died that it started to show that the Sully family dynamic had begun to shift. The whole family was in mourning, and they were all dealing with it differently.

Jake Sully, the ‘head’ of the family, had been reduced to a shadow of himself. The air of authority that he usually carried with him had dwindled. A frown had been etched onto his face, not one of disappointment that Lo’ak was used to seeing. At the moment of Neteyam’s death, it was like a switch was flicked in Jake; he became very cold and distant. But once it was over and the family was back in the village, washing Neteyam’s body, the switch flicked again, and Jake was inconsolable.

Some nights, Lo’ak could hear his father step away from the family marui to cry. Although he wasn’t wailing loudly, drawing attention to himself, Lo’ak could hear his father sob into his hands and ask Eywa what he had done in his past life to have his son taken away from him and why the people around him always had to suffer. During the day, Jake seemed to speak no louder than a whisper. As time passed, Jake could still be found being strict with his family, but it didn’t hold the same weight as his voice would sometimes waver. It can be assumed that Jake had become more compassionate towards his children, but it was sad that it took the death of his eldest child for him to get here.

Neytiri had a different reaction to her mate. She cried for the first few days, holding Neteyam’s songcord between her fingers. As time passed, she would venture out of the marui, going on short walks as if on autopilot. Neytiri has kept all of Neteyam’s things where he had left them. His bow and arrows leaning up in the corner, his sleep mat rolled up next to them. Some days, Neytiri would stare at them, hoping her eldest son would walk through the entrance and make use of his things. After a month, Neytiri began to keep a closer eye on her children, ensuring she always knew where they were and when they’d be back. She was strict and was quick to scold her children if she believed that they had done something wrong. Her voice was strong and stern. It held the weight that Jake’s didn’t.

Poor, poor Tuk, although everyone in the Sully family had changed. It was Tuk’s reaction that broke hearts. At first, she seemed to be coping well, as well as a 7-year-old could after such a traumatic experience. She was still interacting normally with her family and those in the village. Some would say that she is in denial and trying to convince herself that nothing has happened. That nothing had changed. Her family hadn’t seen her cry since the funeral, as far as they could recall. But one day, that changed, one day,  it was as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tuk and Tsireya were spending the afternoon together; as they climbed over the rocks, Tuk’s bracelet got caught. At first, she tried to dislodge it gently, but it wouldn’t budge, she tried again, but nothing.

“‘Reya, help,” she pleaded while trying to tug on her wrist a little harder.

“Hold on Tuk, I’m co-“

Tsireya didn’t get to finish what she was going to say. Tuk’s arm came jerking back, beads falling around her and the empty string slowly slid off of her wrist. There was a pause of pure silence where Tsireya watched as Tuk’s face morphed from the initial shock to her closing her mouth, and she started to chew on her bottle lip as her eyes began to well up with tears.

“Tuk, I-“

A great sob escaped the young girl as she dropped to her knees, her hands trembling as she tried to collect the stray beads in front of her. She began to search more frantically, her head whipping around.

“No… no… no!” She cried, “It’s gone, Neteyam’s charm. It’s gone! It’s not here!”

Tuk let out the most painful, heartbreaking cry as she covered her eyes. Tsireya didn’t know what to do. Her chest tightened as she made her way over to Tuk’s side, wrapping an arm around her and bringing the small girl close.

Tsireya noticed Lo’ak walking along the shore with Rotxo, she desperately tried to get their attention. Luckily she did, and she watched as the two boys sprinted over, climbing over the rocks with no difficulty. Lo’ak was by Tuk’s side in seconds.

“Shh Tuk, it’s okay,” Lo’ak said softly as he took his sister into his arms.

Tuk jerked back, looking her brother in the eye as more tears made their way to the surface.

“It’s not okay! Nothing will ever be okay! Neteyam made it. He made it, and I broke it! It’s gone! He’s gone!” Tuk screamed

A gut-wrenching sob tore through her body as Lo’ak hugged her tighter. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he tried to soothe his sister.

Later that night, just after eclipse, Rotxo came to the Sully family marui with a soft smile on his lips as he presented Tuk with a bracelet and her brother's charm dangling in the middle.

“I know it’s not the same. I didn’t manage to find all of the beads, but I found the charm, so-“

Rotxo was cut off by Tuk barrelling into him, her arms wrapping around his waist.

“Thank you.”

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Kiri was different from the rest of her family, and this was even true in regards to how she mourned the loss of her brother. Out of everyone, she seemed to be coping the ‘best’. There were days where Kiri would sit on her own and cry, but most days, she would be the mediator of the family, helping them speak to one another. She was able to bridge the gaps, which was once the job Neteyam gave himself. On top of the loss of Neteyam, Kiri was struggling to be away from Grace. As time went on, Norm and Max had connected monitors so that Kiri could see her mother, but that was starting to not be enough. She had asked her parents if she could return to the forest for a day or two to visit her mother but her idea was shut down immediately. 

They stressed that it wasn't safe for her, if the RDA sees her, who knows what could happen to her. Kiri understood and accepted this but, that didn't mean that she was close to being content. One thing that Kiri could not accept was that she couldn't connect to the spirit tree, the other members of her family could go there and relive their time with Neteyam but she couldn’t. There were a few occasions when she was tempted to go to the tree and possibly see her missing family, but she knew it wasn’t safe. Kiri isn’t able to see her mother or her brother, and it breaks her heart every day.

And lastly, Spider. Many wouldn’t consider him a part of the Sully family, but he is. They are all he knew. Deep down, he knew that he could never be one of them, not after what he did. After Neteyam’s funeral, Spider stayed with Sully’s in the Metkayina village, and it wasn’t easy for him. He was used to the Omatikaya clan, and although they didn’t treat him with respect or the compassion that he would have liked, they remained civil with him due to Jake’s status as Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto. But here, Jake didn’t have that power and authority anymore.

The Metkayina avoided him like he carried a disease; some would practically run away when they saw him coming in their direction, and some would mumble ‘demon’ as they walked by him. Spider didn’t stay amongst the Metkayina for long; he was in the village for less than one week. He returned to the forest with the help of Norm and Max. He told the Sully’s that he didn’t want to worry about his oxygen running out but it was a lie that some family members could see through. On the night Neteyam died, he demanded a new mask and exo-pack, claiming that his was damaged. It didn’t go unnoticed by Kiri when he snuck away from the marui and smashed his old mask into minuscule pieces. As the days passed, Spider struggled to keep eye contact with the Sully family; he always had a look of guilt on his face.

Once Spider left, Lo’ak’s mind started to wander, what could be so bad that Spider all but ran away from the village? As days turned into weeks, a thought continued to cross his mind that he tried so hard not to entertain.

“What if…” No, he would never. He could never. Right?

“He’s dead.” He has to be

Some of the Metkayina warriors returned to the Three brothers the next day to make reports and check for any survivors. No Na’vi was found matching his description. Hopefully, a creature at the bottom of the ocean finally put a stop to him, but evil doesn’t die that easily. Lo’ak knew better than to believe that this was over. Maybe it is a good thing that Spider returned to the forest because if what Lo’ak was beginning to think was true, Lo’ak would not feel any guilt about his actions.

taglist: @eywas-heir​ @cvsmic-love​ @thehoneymushroomhealer​ @myvath​

[saintsenara]

Hi, if you're still doing the ask game, may I inquire about your opinion on the following ships ? : Tomarrinny, Bartymort, Quirrellmort, Petermort and Tom Sr/Cecilia/Merope. Also, thoughts on MoD!Voldemort or on how a meeting between Snape and Petunia would have gone ? Thanks !

thank you very much, @take-the-unknow-road-now for this wonderful selection of unhinged things for me to talk about. i am always ready for asks which inspire chaos:

tomarrinny

when she's eleven, harry's twelve, and tom is an immortal shard of soul? no.

when she's thirty, harry's thirty-one, and tom is back from the dead for some reason? absolutely.

after all, why shouldn't ginny be allowed two orphans, as a treat? and why shouldn't tom be allowed two people who are clearly less good-looking than him to pay him attention? plus, two quidditch players will definitely be willing to do all the work, allowing him to achieve his true form: undying pillow princess.

but - in reality - we all know which way the power dynamic actually lies: tom and ginny are both harry's subs.

let's hope that their ability to jointly write a poem has improved since the "his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad" days...

bartymort

canon.

there has never been a man with a more flagrant daddy kink than barty crouch jr., and we all know that he threw himself onto lord voldemort's lap the second he arrived in his first death eater meeting.

the dark lord advised him that he'd be physically chastised if this behaviour continued. unfortunately for him, that was exactly what barty wanted to happen.

the reason it burned out hard is because lord voldemort also has towering daddy issues. he is even forced to reveal what his real name and background is in an effort to make barty understand that sometimes he'd like to do something other than put on a double-breasted suit and pretend he's come home on time to attend a birthday party. [for example: "hello son, i've come to pick you up from the orphanage" role-play.)

barty literally couldn't give less of a fuck. lord voldemort isn't sorry when he gets turned into a soulless husk.

quirrellmort

lord voldemort - overcome with joy at being back in a human body after a decade - doesn't think through how awkward the aftermath of this will be, and spends the first night he's attached to quirrell's head directing him in a... let's just say... exploration of his anatomy.

quirrell is so pathetically suggestible that - from that point onwards - he can't get off unless the dark lord is talking dirty to him. but can you imagine how cringe trying to speak sexily to quirrell must be?

[hey baby, what are you wearing? a turban which smells of garlic?]

voldemort simply pretends not to have heard when quirrell brings this up. unfortunately, all this does is make quirrell want to talk about his feelings.

lord voldemort isn't sorry when harry kills him.

petermort

flopping. lord voldemort hates wormtail, because he betrayed a man to whom he would give his affections: james potter.

[seriously, he is a simp for james. there is no other explanation for why he insists that james fought him bravely when he turned up on halloween when we canonically know that what james actually did was run into the hall without his wand and then fall over.]

but don't worry. wormtail is getting some god-tier hate sex out of snape.

tom riddle sr./cecilia/merope gaunt

i'm going to answer this lightly, on the assumption that this triad is consensual.

tom sr. is getting thrown out of the bedroom within seconds. they're lesbians.

[he'll be fine. he goes for a little walk to sulk and ends up making out with frank bryce against a rose trellis. the four of them become bffs.]

and then our not-ship questions:

lord voldemort as the master of death

sounds like a lot of hard work, plus both of his parents keep appearing whenever he touches the resurrection stone to shout at him.

snape versus petunia

snape went round to speak to her about what a dick he thinks harry is [dumbledore told him to speak to her about the blood protection, he didn't want to].

they fucked.

[itzddsyanderefanacc]

🖤NEW OC🖤:

●●●MEET RANDY●●●

Randy is a oc I've been slowly developing for a while! I'm using him for all of the yandere fandoms im into (some with some minor changes and some with some drastic ones) he's really just a fandomless oc that I've had for a while now, so I'm just sprinkling him into the ones I'm in :3

Now..About randy!:

Randy is a 8ft tall 23 year old who was born with gigantism and Myostatin-related muscle hypertrophy! he does sound pretty monotone when he speaks, as well as also sounding very sarcastic sometimes but he loves the ones he cares about. he has a passion for fashion and use to be in a band in high-school he knows how to play the bass and piano. he currently has a job as a engineer and a side hustle of making fashionable clothes for bigger and taller people like himself!

weapon of choice: his fists

likes: baked goods, walks at night, solitude, exercise

dislikes: unessasary violence, anyone who hurts DD, when people ruin electronics for no reason, toxic masculinity

His background story:

(TW: VIOLENCE, TRUAMA, ARSON, DEATH AND TALK ABOUT DIEING)

~~°♡●•🖤•●•🖤•●•🖤•●•🖤•●♡°~~

Randy was born into..a not so great household, but he only took notice when he was 4 years of age. Disptie living in a big house almost mansion like house in the south woodland area of Hillsville his father was very abusive to him and his mother. One day when he was now 10 years old, his father and mother got into a huge fight, after, his father left for a few hours. In that time Randy and his mother where catching up on things, doing some good mother-son bonding time. But they where both intrupted by the smell of smoke, and before they knew it the whole house was caught on fire, trapping both Randy and his mother inside. Neither of them could escape due to how quickly the house caught on fire and how the house started tumbling down on his mother. Randy didn't want to leave his mother but his mother begged him to run before he dies..so he tries but all the exits where blocked so randy, on the first floor of the now burning down house was about to succumb to his inevitable death. He crawled back up to his now dead mother and laid beside her dead burnt up body..and as he thinks he's about to die he hears sounds, sounds of water. A small girl comes into his view with pastel pink skin and short light purple hair, a young 8 year old DD. She managed to get the hose from the side of their house and bring it inside spraying a pathway out. as soon as she saw randys body she sprayed him of any fire that was on him. holding the hose in her mouth and carrying Randy's body down the stairs and outside to a neighbors house. even though it hurt, and that he was only partially conscious he was so greatful for her coming to his rescue.

Randy was quickly rushed to the hospital, into the ER. where he had to undergo a

multiple surgeries and a blood transfusion which DD also provided being a O- bloodtype. his healing process took months and within that time his rich aunt decided to adopt him. once randy was out of the hospital he knew he was never going to be the same again. everytime the doctors tried to place doner-skin on him the skin always rejected, so they always had to take it off leaving a very very thin, almost see-through layer of skin right above his muscles, leaving him with a horrifying appearance. But over the years the doctors have noticed his skin was beginning to slowly heal, his non burnt skin slowly getting rid of the massive wound he had on the left side of his body, though doctors say he probably won't fully heal up till he's dead they can only watch and observe, along with giving him lots of medication to ease the pain.

His school life wasn't all that difficult, he went to a public school for middle school where him and DD hung out along with a couple other friends. In high-school he went to a private school, payed for by his aunt where he was separated from DD and his friends to focus in his grades and life plan. Randy was never really bullied in middle school or high-school due to how he looked, but he was rarely ever approached and often was looked at weird by other students.

Now that he's an adult he decided to move to doomsbury where DD lives, knowing he probably doesn't have much time to live, he wants to spend as much time as possible with his best friend as he can, knowing he probably only has 10 or less years in him.

(I hope this is clear enough for you all to understand!! I'm not the greatest at writing :<)

Facts about randy!:

●DD is his bff, but he could never date her due to his life expectancy (he doesn't want to break her heart)

●due to his wounds he's developed a very high pain tolerance

●he makes all of his clothes and alters all of his shoes

●Randy is a REALLY FAST runner

●Randy does not deal well with surgeries (he often rejects foreign organs and is really hard to wake up. doctors fear if he under goes to much surgeries he may fall into a coma)

●the news station in his hometown wanted to do yearly interviews to keep up with his life since his story and his father's arrest was such a big hit in his hometown but Randy refused, not liking the publicity and everyone knowing his business.

thats all for now! I hope you guys like him! I'll try to use him in more artworks coming up :3

[maxkels]

* ◟ : 〔 TESSA THOMPSON, CIS WOMAN + SHE / HER 〕 MAXINE KELLY , some say you’re a FORTY YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both HARD-WORKING and JUDGEMENTAL, one can’t help but think of I LIKE THAT by JANELLE MONAE when you walk by. are you still an ASSOCIATE, TATTOO ARTIST AND PIERCER for THE DEAD HAND, YAMI INK, even with your reputation as THE SONGBIRD? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and LETTTERMAN JACKETS THAT SMELL OF TOBACCO , NEEDLES PIERCING VIRGIN SKIN, EYES THAT HOLD A BOTTOMLESS GUILT, although we can’t help but think of KARLACH (BG3) + BRIENNE OF TARTH (GAME OF THRONES) + SEKHMET (EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

FULL NAME: Maxine Bernice Kelly NICKNAME(S): Max AGE: Forty GENDER: Cis-Female PRONOUNS: She/Her BIRTHPLACE: Harlem, Manhattan OCCUPATION: Tattoo Artist & Body Piercer, Underground fighter GANG AFFILIATION: Associate of The Dead Hand FC: Tessa Thompson

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOUR: Black EYE COLOUR: Brown HEIGHT: 5”5 PIERCINGS?:Both ears & nipples, tongue. TATTOOS: Full sleeve on left arm that spans her shoulder blade also. Behind her left ear, on her right hip and underbust.

TRAITS

POSITIVE: Focused, Loyal, Grounded NEGATIVE: Critical, Pessimistic, Indelicate

BACKGROUND

death tw

Maxine was destined to get involved with the seedy underbelly of NYC. While her mom worked nights, her dad took her to his job ; from a baby she’d been in a car seat while he beat people up for money, sold drugs, engaged in routine intimidation of local businessmen and politicians. It was a job the man was good at, so why stop doing it now? Why not let Maxine know that this was really how the world really worked. There were only two types of people; the strong and the weak. He asked Maxine, one day while doing her maths homework, what type do you want to grow into?

She chose to be strong.

It was the answer her father wanted, if he couldn’t have a son then Maxine would become one. She signed up for boxing, track, MMA, started to routinely bully kids for their money or lunches - when she got a little older, it transitioned into selling cigarettes and providing some of the meaner kids with needed backup when other schools came for events, or just turned up at lunch for a brawl. Thanks to her dads name, Maxine also got into underground fighting rings, lying about her age so she could take down women twice her age. The money got split, and she’d go get her hair done with it or buy some new sneakers. Questions were asked about her bruises of course but, the girl did so much sport there had to be accidents. Sometimes on the quad she got into fights but not so much anymore. There was an opportunity talked about; the Olympics. Maxine could get onto their training programme, maybe even the squad with a few years under their wing, groomed into a professional athlete. The teenager couldn’t wait to get out from Harlem, move onto better things. What made it better was that her father seemed to approve of this to - they’d have to work on Maxine’s discipline.

But, there was a secret the young girl couldn’t tell him. That was, that Maxine had discovered a secret talent, a hobby she enjoyed more than beating others up, than revealing in violence. Art. In secret, she worked on a portfolio. It was a backup, she told herself, just in case everything fell through, an apprenticeship in Portland. Except, when two opportunities came knocking at the same time, Maxine knew which one she’d prefer. Her father of course intercepted both, confronting Maxine about which opportunity would really get her out of their shitty neighborhood, and allow her to make a life for herself. All her life, she’d done what he wanted and in a fit of rage, she smacked her dad.

He went down, smacking his head open on the fireplace as he did so.

The decision was made for her then. The young woman covered it up, said she came home and found him like that. His line of work meant that he had plenty of enemies, nobody suspected Maxine. She moved out to Portland, taking up an apprenticeship for a tattoo studio and attending a local arts programme. America held too much pain, though, and after befriending a Japanese student, she would go to Kyoto to train under masters of the tattoo craft. Getting involved with low-level Yakuza only seemed to be a natural progression, especially after she stopped a local underboss from getting murdered at night on the streets. The fighting she’d left behind only followed her.

Years later, Maxine followed some members back to America, taking up shop at Yami Ink and still serving the Dead Hand even in another country.

[mx-lamour]

Hauntings of the Mind

Some personal meta/background for Bloodstain/"It's all right." (and that last sonnet):

My best friend and guardian died when I was 8-1/2 years old. At night, before I fell asleep, I would usually see him walk past my door, doing his rounds of the house to make sure everything was as it should be.

I watched him die. It wasn't my hand that killed him, wasn't even my choice to make, but somehow I felt responsible. It wasn't even my first dead body, or even my first dead loved one, but it was the first time I'd witnessed the spark of life leave someone's eyes. The first time I'd felt the breath leave someone's body under my touch and not come back.

When I tell you my best friend and guardian was a cat, it doesn't matter. When I tell you he was 18 years old and ready to go, it doesn't matter.

I bargained with whatever god would listen to give him back to me. He wasn't even mine; he'd been my dad's best friend since he was a kitten. My pleas went unanswered.

My mom has told me her story of taking care of her father through his struggle with cancer. There came a point when it was clear he was never going to make it, but it was near Christmas time, and my grandpa was a stubborn fiend who refused to die on what was supposed to be a joyful occasion.

When January came, my mom bravely went to him and said, "It's okay, Dad. You can go now."

That was my first funeral. I was two years old then. And, according to my mom, I wouldn't leave the casket's side. This explains why I have such a vivid memory of looking down on my grandpa's waxlike hands holding a red rose. My grandpa loved roses. He tended them.

That's beside the point.

Around the time I was 13, I started having dreams that someday I would have to kill my romantic partner, whoever that would be. It wasn't so self-direct. I was a daydreamer and a reader of books, so I would make up stories. But sometimes they were only scenes.

And one of those scenes which plagued me was the image of someone kissing their lover, then stabbing him in the gut. They didn't want to do it; they had to. Tears streaking down their face, they apologized while the dying one looked on in shock.

I never really made the connection as to why.

Now, I'm married to a man who is nearly always struggling. He's chronically ill and terribly intelligent and horribly depressed. Inside of all that muck is a sweet, imaginative little boy who long ago lost his brother and his faith in all things. Now a grown man, he's also practical. Pessimistic. A bit obsessive-compulsive. He DM'd our Curse of Strahd campaign.

We both fear abandonment.

When his thoughts have taken a dark turn, as they sometimes do, he considers giving himself over to death. To not have to try anymore.

Early on, this terrified me. "But I'm here," I would think, never realizing my mistake, that it had never helped before.

And sometimes that image would come back to me unbidden: Would I have to kill him myself one day? If I couldn't bear the thought of him hurting himself, but if there was also little choice left in the matter, would I do the work for him, to retain some modicum of agency in our doomed relationship? There seemed to be little else I could do.

This was, of course, very distorted thinking. And I never did do that thing, and I suspect we never will go through that. We're getting better. And we're changing side-by-side.

But there were several times, probably yearly if I would have been keeping track, possibly close to the anniversary of his brother's death, when I wondered if and when I would be forced to put the man I love out of his misery.

Because I know what grief is. And I know regret, and rage, and despair. I know it hurts. And I know it's exhausting. I know.

And with the amount of perseveration that goes on in my anxious autistic head (or did, especially before I'd done any real healing, myself) I know that the inability to fix your own tragic mistakes, to correct for factors you couldn't have known about is devastating.

I know how an event can haunt you into eternity, throwing you into a repeat of that same moment, again and again, from something so little as the passing of a number on a calendar page, and still leave you bereft of any real closure.

The window glass is so horrifying because, even though you can see tragedy unfolding on the other side, there is little you can do about what you cannot touch, whether what you're reaching for is the past itself or the despair clouding another person's mind and heart.

[epic-and-kitty]

Twist - 🐶💛🎮💜

🐶 Does your OC have any pets?

Since Twist was nomadic for most of her life that she remembers, she really didn't have the means for a pet despite really wanting one. However, after she's adopted by Captain 3 (or Xero, as he prefers to be called) and allowed to live with him, she gets several pets from Frye and Shiver in the form of house warming gifts. Frye gives her an entire bed of garden eels, which act much like an ant colony would in our world, except the eels will sometimes play around in her tentacles and act as fashion accessories of their own free will, as well as a baby giant eel Twist names Mora. Mora will twist around Twist in a comforting manner as well as give her a lift if she's too tired to move.

Shiver on the other hand gifts her the runt of one of Mega's litters, a pup named Sammie. Sammie is a bit of a handful, constantly trying to eat furniture or Nom Nom (or Mora tbh) but Twist has made great lengths training him to be a good pup, even if he does try to nip at Nommy's fin hawk every now and then. (Don't feel too bad for Nom Nom, he is fully capable of protecting himself and has put Sammie in his place multiple times (Big Buddy anyone?))

Also, after Twist's "puddle incident", Mora and Sammie become guide animals for her as she recovers from not having a body. (Sammie by leading her and letting her lean on him when tired, and Mora by doing the same and being able to let Twist ride her in dire circumstances)

💛 How many languages does your OC speak? What languages are they learning?

Twist can actually fluently speak Octarian, Salmonid and Inklish, as well as read Octarian, Salmonid and Deep Sea Metro script.

Currently, she's learning to read Inklish as she simply couldn't decipher all the scripts of the language until she got help from Army and Mask. She's also learning Alternan with help from ORCA.

(Deep Sea Metro script is spoken like Octarian, but the script is completely different from written Dome Octarian and other dialects of Octarian)

🎮 What are three of your OC's favorite hobbies?

Twist ADORES sewing, especially sewing plushies for her and her friends. She's really good at it too. In fact, if you get a handsewn plush from Twist, you know she considers you a great friend.

Twist also enjoys researching humans and their culture. She sometimes goes back to Alterna just to go through all of ORCA's files on humanity (ORCA definitely doesn't mind the company or constant questions after 12000 years of silence) Twist's favorite band, Shine On Sea Dogs (a fan band of mine I haven't revealed yet), actually finds old human music records and remixes it while giving it a Mollusk Era twist and Inklish or Octarian lyrics (usually way off from the actual human ones, but they're trying their best).

Twist also just likes to walk around and people watch, or find places to enjoy nature in peace. In fact, the way she and Skull actually got to really know each other was when they both found the same cave like formation at Scorch Gorge and and decided to share it to watch the sunset/sunrise in occasionally. She likes her freedom to walk wherever and find a new place. (This does not help her and Skull not get horribly horribly lost though)

💜 What's your OCs ancestry/genetic background?

Aside from her being a pygmy octoling and a rare nine tentacled octo, Twist honestly doesn't know. She was found abandoned and half dead on Salmonid territory with no memory, she has no idea who she's related to or what's in her genes

(It's funny she gets along so well with Hue, her universe's Agent 8, who also is a rare tentacled octoling. They almost act like siblings)

(Technically, they kinda are. Twist is a clone of Hue, albeit far more...."customized" than he is, considering the differences in skin tone, size and of course gender. However, neither are currently aware of this, aside from Hue finding Twist "familiar" upon first meeting her.)

[lserver362reviews]

This was the saddest fucking movie I've ever seen.

This review is going to be all over the place, but as per usual I'm going to start with a deeply personal overshare of where I'm at for this viewing. I'm seeing this as the first watch of the New Year after coming off of 2 months of deeply missing my sister, who lives in another state. This movie understands what it is to go through your little everyday needs while having a giant sibling sized hole in your heart. I sobbed at this movie, especially during the dream sequence of the afterlife, but throughout the whole film I was getting chills. I sobbed last week at Christmas Mass because the priest started his homily with a comment on how all of his Christmas memories are of him and his two older sisters, in the house that they grew up in, which has been sold so that place truly only exists in his memory now. The first thing I thought of when I woke up on Christmas morning was how my sister and I would always get up extra early, before our parents, and just sit together in front of the tree and look at the lights. That's what Christmas means to me. My childhood house is also now sold. I was so affected by Kevin's statement that he doesn't even need to be doing anything in particular with his brothers-it's just the being together. I will be going to my sister's for Christmas next year. It cannot be overstated how masterful Zac Efron is in this film. When David is announced as having the match against the heavy weight champ you just see Kevin embody every emotion. The betrayal, the holding himself together, the wanting to cry, the disappointment, the growing cold. Then again when Kerry gives his father the gun and Kevin bores his eyes into Pam as if to say, maybe if we just pretend we aren't here it'll be okay. I cried very hard at the sight of absolutely swelling Zac Efron cradle his little baby. So beautiful and you just know that this man will try his hardest to not be his father (whether that means running away to protect them from the curse or by remaining and being triggered by his own grief). There was such a delicate balance of conveying his limited worldview, wanting to live up to his dad's expectations (manipulations), and support his brothers above everything else. Just masterful from Efron, and I didn't think I'd see that to this level. I came to this movie because A24, I love Richard Reed Perry, and I'm a huge fan of the talent that is Harris Dickinson. I think the final straw was that A24 mailed me my zine which had the pinup of my baby, Harris Dickinson. I hope to continue to watch everything he does (plug here for FX's mini series, Trust). Every time Harris was on screen I had the dopiest grin on my face because he just makes me happy and especially so as David. And then the unexpected happened. I didn't know anything about the Von Erich's and I certainly don't know anything about wrestling (I did love the Netflix series, GLOW), so this was almost completely foreign territory to me. Wrestling is just heterosexual drag, right? I knew this movie would be sad, and I knew that I'm super susceptible to anything that showcases siblingship, but this was a new level. The tragedy of it all. Sometimes the movie felt clunky but that kind of fit with the body shapes thematically. Some lines, especially from the father didn't feel natural to me. I think Maura Tierney was outstanding for what little screentime she had. The music, the costuming, as well as the camera work was all superb. I also did like seeing Michael J Harney and Lily James. Also I LOVE when a movie has a, Thank God I'm A Country Boy, needle drop (looking at you, Pauly Shore's Son-in-Law)!!! Once again, I was crushed by the ending dialogue and the way this movie just gets what it means to love your family. I loved that two background wrestlers were actual Von Erichs! Maybe I should rewatch Blue Valentine or Dead Man Walking before saying this is the saddest movie I've ever seen but man, I have not sobbed like that in a theater before. I'm glad I managed to stick with it. This movie bonzo gonzo'd my heart.

[radiomonkeys2]

CRAWLING IN MY SKIIIIN

Originally drawn by Ishida1694

The Narakans are a pure indulgence in Y2K-era edgelordism, and I love them for that. The edge is adorable.

Not really a race that can stand up to Yabans or Gosamyrs regularly, but they're a good background people, and maybe a few mutants can rise to the challenge.

These particular Narakans are from an "abusement park" attraction.

Abolian abusement parks are the evil carnivals his music was set to. Condemned criminals and subabolians on death row are often paraded through these things to be victims of sadomasochistic carnies and psychotic circusfreaks. It's like if the PS1 game Thrill Kill and the arcade game CarnEvil were used as inspiration for real parks by someone who thinks Coal Chamber, Mudvayne, Insane Clown Posse, and Otep are the baddest badasses who ever walked.

You have Hoody the Pig. He comes in saying "I have the body of a pig," then snorts, "I'll eviscerate your ass!" and shoves a weird electric butcher's knife/chainsaw combo up a condemned's ass, destroying him from the inside.

However, the one the Skullcrusher Double saw first was sometime in the middle of their current Execution Exhibition, where this cute little goffik contortionist—Seraphine the killer contortionist— flipped and twirled with bladed shoes, decapitating one Abol and then stretching & contorting her body around a second before unwinding in such a way that he seemed lucky at first— her crotch right in his face— only for all his limbs fell off in a bloody mess and his ribs to burst through his chest. Neither Gungarus or Yulaan know how she did that, but she just did a bow and pranced off before the ringmaster waltzed on, smacking another condemned fool in the nuts with his skullheaded can, and announced the next set of events to a cheering and televised crowd.

Then you had Bojo. The clown. A goffik clown with Abolian schizophrenia. Mir (a goth girl Yulaan knows on Earth Prime) met Bojo during one of his docile moments before. Seemed nice enough, if a bit crazy and murderous. Despite his orc-like tusks, he could conceivably pass as a human well enough.

But once he's a clown? He becomes Bojo the Psychoberseker. Big, fat, twisted, and psychotic.

The ringmaster, Seether Black, was likely either a vampire or mutant. He was also one of the few "correctly proportioned" males, which made him a downright prettyboy compared to the orc-like beefcakes that Abolian males usually were. He was like crossing Alice Cooper with Charles Manson.

"Don't you mean Marilyn Manson?"

"I know what I said."

Seether Black is edgelord supreme. He was a horribly abused kid whose bullies often tried killing him and forcing him to commit suicide, so eventually one day he snapped and crucified them, one by one. Their crosses still stand, and some of their bodies have rotted away, though for a couple he poured molten mercury down their throats to turn them into macabre statues.

Seether Black finds beauty in madness.

Seether Black literally killed the Goddess of Naraka, and keeps her body as an ornament. It's his vengeance against heaven, and he refuses to be a slave to a dead god or a society that doesn't care about him.

Yeah, Naraka is a world of 90s psychosploitation. Like that one kid, Maxxi Yazzi, who just wanted to be your friend. If he cut you open and ate your organs and lived inside you, you'd be friends FOREVER! But you rejected him, and now he's sad and psychotic and going to spill his organs out.

If I can sum up Planet Naraka in under 2 minutes:

I want desperately to believe they are absolutely not the kind of race that Toriyama would have created at any point, but considering how turbo-Zoomer Dragon Ball Super started getting.... let me stay ignorant!

[kssphia]

House of Cards

Chapter 2

(Silco x fem!oc)

(18+, minors do not interact)

(gore, sexual content, violence, substance abuse, prostitution, etc. DO NOT READ IF SENSITIVE)

CHATPTER 1

Desc:

It was never a good day when he was in this room. Another fool, another gun in his hand, and another life taken. People have their lives taken so soon. Most of the time, too soon. But he was never the one who chose this, leaving others to their own ways. They chose for themselves…

Sometimes, they just chose wrong.

Chapter 2

“I don’t like liars,”

BANG!

The sound reverberated through the room. Nothing but a distant machine whirling in the background was heard.

Taking a step back, he passed the gun back to his subordinate. Bringing his hands up to his collar, he straightened it and leaned his back, a singular strand from his hair falling into place; a messy slick back with grey streaks.

He took a deep sly, a commanding hand raising to comb the hair back into place. His other reached into his breast pocket, pulling a handkerchief out. It was light, lacy, and a notable bright white.

The gesture was simple, he simply dropped it on one of his black leather boots. He took the other foot, wiping some of the blood off with the handkerchief.

See, people don’t often see such a pure white in the Undercity. It was a sign of wealth, of power. Such a simple garment to be used so carelessly, to use something so unattainable to so many people, to wipe a man’s blood off of his shoes. It was almost wasteful.

But Silco needed to do this.

He is power, he is wealth, he is unattainable. And he’d keep it that way. No matter what, even if was as small as dropping a clean cloth to clean a dumbfuck’s blood off his damn shoe.

He glared at the dead body, anger still residing in him. Damn fool.

He scoffed, his hand reaching behind him, the gun handing limply in his pale, slender fingers.

“Bury it,” he said, his raspy accent echoing in the empty room. The gun was taken from his fingers, and two of his cronies walked a couple of feet away and toward the corpse.

Silco turned, striding towards the door. He straightened his jacket, smoothing his hair one more time. With a deep breath, he walked out of the empty room, and up some stairs.

Glancing at the guard, he kept his stride and walked through the door. The guard quickly opened it, pushing the door open. Silco entered the bar, walking out of the back hallway. The door to the basement said STAFF ONLY, with the Eye of Zaun circling it. As Silco walked out, he surveyed the customers. They breathed in shimmer, some of them. Some drunk from their cups, already high of it. Smoke filled the room, a stench of skunk joining it. He glanced over in the direction of the smoke, a thick blunt in the man's hand. He smirked.

He had an assortment of new drugs–, well, new to the public. They were cultivated from plants of a previous world. One way before the world they lived in now. One where the chemicals were different when humans had not yet discovered magic.

Flowers had always been his thing, so he figured, ‘why not?’

The drug wrapped in the leaf that the man was holding was called MJ, a sticky green flower that when ground, could relax and release a rush of dopamine. It was great for back pain, as Silco learned. Not addictive, either. Was hard to not like it.

The other one, however, was a different story. Poppies were always beautiful to him. Turns out it also can make a beautiful mind-numbing narcotic. It was good for pain, but addictive if you took it regularly. However, that was only popular in Topcity, among those righteous hypocrites.

However, it was still good that only he was able to make and sell these goods. Silco didn’t regret it, and he regrets nothing.

Silco eyes then honed in on the bar, the bartender already seeing his boss and skillfully pouring a glass of whiskey for him. Silco internally thanked the man for being competent, feeling a surge of relief for taking a chance on the boy.

It was a bad habit, taking in kids. But he didn’t just have a business or an empire. It was a family. A group that watched out for themselves, and only themselves. No one got anything for free of course, but it didn’t matter. Silco had a belief, a message. It was safety, it was having a home. He wanted to give these people something he didn’t have when he was their age.

Silco sat on the wooden stool, crossing his legs as he leaned back in the chair. Supporting himself on one arm, he reached to grab his drink, taking a sip of the fiery liquid.

It burned, warming his chest. But you couldn’t tell from his face, which was emotionless and cold. Like always…

He sighed, looking out with narrowed eyes. He carefully watched the floor, taking in the busy establishment. It was weird to think this was all his, and that he could do anything he wanted nowadays. Nobody dared to step to him, and that was always good. The only real problem nowadays was those damn Firelights and the Topsiders. But those would be dealt with.

Taking a big gulp of his drink, he turned away from the door and to the bar. He set his drink down, looking down with a thoughtful look.

A moment passed, and he tuned everything out. With a sudden silence in his mind, he sighed. It was nice to have these moments, where he didn’t have to think or worry. Just sit, and relax.

A sudden realization struck him, he looked up with a sudden sense. He turned around, noticing the silence. It wasn’t him zoning out, tuning out the loud crowd. Rather, the crowd had paused, as did the music.

“Turn my back for one second–,” he muttered, glancing around before noticing what everyone was staring at.

A bloodied girl stumbled in, landing on her hands and knees. She wore a pleated skirt, a once-white blouse, ripped knee-high socks, and black loafers.

His eyes narrowed, noticing her white outfit ruined by dirt and blood. And the amount of blood was concerning. Her inky black hair stuck to her face, wet from the rain.

His eyes squinted, zoning in on the knife in her hand. He stood quickly, motioning for his people to stand down. He took in the small girl's trembling figure. Her face was busted up, her neck was bruised, and her face was twisted in pain.

He took a couple of steps, his long legs striding towards the girl slowly.

“Whose blood is that?” He spoke, his voice being the only thing heard. Everyone exchanged eyes, curious and eager to know. The girl whimpered and rasped, “Not mine,” as she eventually fell completely flat on the floor. Silco took notice and immediately reached for the knife, yanking it from her hand and tossing it away. Turning the girl to her side, he took notice of the shiny and simple jewelry she wore.

‘Topsider,’ Silco thought to himself. The amount of blood was unbelievable and told you just how alive the person was. Too much to be from such a small woman.

His cold fingers raised to press against her brutally bruised neck. Watered-down blood met his fingers, cold and diluted from the storm.

She whimpered as he pressed into her neck, checking her pulse. The bartender, Therium, walked over also. He leaned down, waiting for Silco’s permission.

With a glance and a nod of his head, the bartender hooked his arms under the girl and pulled her up.

The cry of pain made his heart wrench a little. He may be evil, but he was never a monster. This was a woman, a young girl. She had been beaten severely, her ripped skirt and missing buttons on her blouse indicated something much darker.

He let out a breath, his eyes surveying her. Silco wasn’t sure of what to do. He needed to check for injuries but didn’t want to risk her dignity or life. It was a choice, moving her and possibly injuring her, or exposing her front half to all his high customers to see. Two choices, an impossible situation.

Suddenly, something rang true in his mind.

‘I own this place.’

Silco stood, immediately turning to the silent onlookers.

“Leave, everyone. Now.” His voice was dead silent, and nobody needed to be told twice. Therium went to move, but Silco simply halted him, waiting for everyone to leave.

Quickly, people bustled out the doors, leaving curious and drunken.

Silco lowered himself to his knees, expertly taking off his expensive overcoat and placing it next to the girl. His veined hands quickly rolled up his sleeves, the white blouse hanging loosely around his slim figure.

“Listen, girl, I’m going to take off these clothes. I will cover you after, but I need to check for injury.” His voice was gentle, rough but somehow soft. It was calming, a tone of authority, but also comfort.

The girl weakly nodded, tears running down the side of her face as her eyebrows furrowed in pain. Silco raised his hands to the top of her blouse but took notice of how she slouched further, almost like a slow flinch, into the bartender's arms. A little movement confirmed his thoughts. He started elsewhere instead, not wanting to overwhelm her.

He turned to her feet, carefully sliding the expensive leather loafers off and setting them aside. They could be cleaned, however, the socks could not. They’d need to be thrown away.

He carefully tucked his fingers under her socks, pulling them down. Her legs trembled as her wet skin was exposed to the cold air.

His fingers came up to the bottom of her blouse. His fingers quickly undid the buttons as her cries increased a little. He licked his lips, his heart racing a little. Taking a dagger from his pocket, he meticulously cut the sleeves so she wouldn’t have to move.

Therium pulled the bloodied blouse out from under her chest. Silco then analyzed her stomach and ribs, the dark bruise forming worrying him.

“I’m going to cut off your skirt, and I promise it’ll be a quick check. I’ll cover you after,” he told her, a warning to what would happen. He was a soldier, after all, and had experience in first aid. Silco found that explaining to them what they would experience was more helpful than asking or comforting them.

He quickly cut the skirt, sighing at the sight of blood. And he wasn’t sure, if the blood had soaked through or if she had been touched in such a despicable manner.

He looked over, eyes meeting her teary ones. He gulped, eyes glancing down for a second before he asked, “Did they..?”

She took a deep breath, a moment of silence as she breathed.

“They tried,” her voice was weak, but confirmed his thoughts. He took a breath in, looking back at her stomach.

He lowered his ear down to her chest, eyes looking towards her feet. He listened to her lungs, checking for any rasp or fluid. Luckily, there was none.

“Thank you Therium, that’ll be all,” Silco said, eyes glued to the girl as he took his jacket and covered her. His arms scooped under her back and knees, lifting her in his arms. He ignored her sharp cries of pain as he did, not wanting to face the guilt that came with it.

He quickly walked to the stairs and up them. Twisting and turning around corners, he finally made his way to his office. And through a door, his eyes set on his bedroom. The girl was trying to cry silently, but Silco could tell just how much pain she was in.

“Stay,” he commanded, setting her on the bed. His voice was just above a whisper, the quiet filling the room as he exited.

The girl shook, unsure of what to do. The pounding pain in her head was unbearable, and she was probably lucky to be awake, or alive.

When he walked back in, she stared at the stranger skeptically. He handed her a white pill, a glass of water in his hand.

His finger wrapped under her chin, pulling her cracked lips apart. He dropped the pill on her tongue, bringing the glass to her lips.

She was unsure of what to do, glancing at the pill with unsure eyes. But she had no choice. She opened her mouth as his pinky, ring, and middle finger wrapped under her jaw. His index and thumb carefully dropped the pill on her tongue, and she carefully took a drink of water.

It was cold and relieved the burning in her throat. She hoped that he wasn’t a bad man, but she figured he couldn’t be all that bad.

Silco then picked her up her legs, raising them as he pulled the covers from under her. The fluffy comforter and soft mattress felt like heaven. The girl felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, but she was not out of the woods yet.

“Your name, girl,” Silco commanded as he set her legs under the covers. She swallowed weakly, the water making it easier to speak.

“Sophia Kiramman,” the girl muttered, her face relaxing as she felt the effects of the pain reliever.

However, Silco froze.

This was a shock, a total game-changer. The daughter of the Piltover Councilor, one of the most powerful families in the city. It was strange, seeing such a well-off girl in the slums of the Undercity.

“Kiramman?” Silco’s voice rang out, asking for confirmation. The girl nodded weakly.

“Alright, I will send word. Rest, for now.” Silco assured her, walking away as he turned off the lights.

The girl was left in the dark, alone and wrapped up in a stranger's coat, in his bed. She could only imagine what her mother would say…

[bellajackson200]

Pocket Boy. short Background story edition

The tiny boy sat all alone in the dark room. Curtains closed. Stuffy atmosphere. He looked at the metal bars surrounding him. An old hamster cage. This was intented to be his home but had become his prison.

The stench of the boys own expelled bodily fluids was overwhelming. Old food and soiled water in a small plastic tray. The boy was curled up in a corner of the cage, trying to escape the sickening mixed odors. The bottom of the cage was lined with rough hay and woodchips which gave him a nasty itchy rash.

He was so small. Not bigger than the outer joint of a human thumb. He could almost squeeze through the bars, but only almost, despite his malnourished, pale little body. He was trapped in this horrible existence.

His captor was a little girl who had spotted him and his family trying to escape a rat in an alley. The girl had reached down and with an excited whine, had ripped the little baby boy out of the loving grip of his mother. She had squeezed the boy so tight for so long, while running home, he was almost lifeless when she, safely inside her room, had opened her hand to look at her stolen goods.

The girl came from a poor neighborhood with a single parent, a mom who was rarely home, Leaving the girl and her older brother to fend for themselves.

There was little to no love in this household. Most of the times, the kids had no idea where their mom was and food, was not a given.

The girl Had located an old hamster cage in the garage. filled it up with dead whilted gras from the overgrown backyard and some old left over woodchips from the previous misfortunate tenant. She'd found stail rodent pellets, some ripe apples on the ground and water from a filthy barrel in the yard. The little baby boy was harshly put in the cage and the door was clicked shot.

He had just learned to walk and was waddling around his enclosure. The whilted grass would often prick his bare, sensitive, tiny feet. Making them itch and bleed. The boy would often cry and call out to his mom. But mom never came. He would cry himself to sleep and wake up with an itchy, hurtful rash.

The girl quickly grew tired of her tiny captive and her visits became less frequent. She would feed him pellets and change his water every 4 days if he was lucky. The tiny baby was so horribly malnourished and his little system was not develloping properly. This often left him with agonising belly aches, vomit sessions, and an unhealthy mix of watery diarrhea and harsh, unforgiving constipation.

The girls older brother would pay the tiny boy a lot more attention. He would often sneak into her room. Pick up the little boy and sneak him back to his own room. This was not a good thing.

The tiny boy was so scared of the older brother and cried every time he was picked up. He tried to fight but, of course, to no avail.

The brother would play with the boy in various ways simply because he was bored. He would undress the boy completely and pinch his tiny penis, making the boy cry out with fear and pain. He would push on the boys tiny swollen belly, making it ache even more. He would sometimes push so hard it made the little boy emit raspy belches until he vomited.

The brother would put him down on the floor, watch him try to waddle away, them push him hard, making him fall hard and cry. Lift him up by one foot and watch him dangle and cry.

He would stick his finger down the boys throat and make him vomit. He would bend the boy between two fingers, exposing his butt, find various dull and pointy objects to insert into the boys tiny anus. one of The brothers favourite objects was round wooden beads. He enjoyed forcing a couple of them into the boys tiny hole and watch the poor boy painfully struggling to push the rough, wooden beads out.

The brother would also forcefeed the boy cooking oil until the poor thing got sick from both ends.

Years went by. The boy grew, but not nearly enough for his age. The objects inserted into his hole had gotten bigger and more creative over the years. The boy was still equally scared and still tried to fight his way out of the brothers tight grip. The boy was now a little larger than the size of a human middle finger. The brother found it hilarious to insert a pencil into the boys tiny hole, making him balance on it while carrying it around. The boy was in so much pain and it would take hours for the tiny boy to mend his wounds after he was thrown back in the cage.

One day, right after a "play date" the boy was thrown into the cage as usual, only this time, the brother got distracted and forgot to close the cage door. The brother vanished from the room and the tiny boy crawled out of the cage and jumped onto the floor. He ran out of the room and into the hallway. The door was magically cracked open and the tiny boy, with the strenght he had left, bolted into freedom and never looked back.

He ran and ran until he colapsed in a grassy area. It was damp and cold. The boy curled up and wrapped a leaf around his shaking, abused, starving, sick body.

He felt something warm curling in on him. He was so exhausted and sick that he just accepted the radiating heat and grapped onto his warm, safe salvation.