#he should

[mintytrifecta]

So is Spiders-Man going to show up or what 

[wilted-woman]

saw this

[deliciousnecks]

You're all becoming very sloppy covering your vampirism in public, okay? It's becoming very dangerous. What is the big deal? If anyone notices, we just hypnotize them like we always do. No, you've been doing that way too much lately. Yes, but I have been getting really okay at it.

[xbuster]

[little-bumblebeeee]

He could stab someone in cold blood and I'd still be like "so sweet so precious he does no wrong"

[ragzung]

A dog’s no good if it ain’t loyal

On Redbubble

[t3acupz]

so we know that hannibal milked mason’s prostate to get sperm for margot but uhhh you ever think he did the same to will? to baby trap him again

[painsandconfusion]

Nightmares and Daydreams

Whumping the Whumpers - Part Thirty-three

(tw: broken glass, objects under skin, scratching at skin, blood, nightmares, my good prefect lovely whumpers being soft as toasted marshmallows, stupid fluff, oh and playful / teasing murder threat)

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Ethan clawed at his arm as shards of glass snaked their way under his skin. He screamed, tearing at the flesh with his fingernails, but the glass grew and grew, spreading like fire under his skin. Shattering into a thousand tiny fragments that grew again. They split and sliced his flesh, untouchable. Bulges of agony shot under his fingertips, just below the surface. They danced over his body. His chest. His back. His legs.

Inescapable.

Ethan screamed again, clutching at the skin. The pieces shredded his fingertips, painting him in blood. He tried to clutch at the fragments when they cut him, but the oily black slicked them, and they danced away again, the skin sealing up behind them. It cut up and down, skinning him alive and re-knitting over and over

Shards crunched against his windpipe as he screamed. There was so much blood. So so so much blood.

.

Ethan woke up screaming, clawing at his neck.

It was dark. So dark. He could still feel the glass under his skin but his fingertips found no bulges.

No blood. No-

The light flicked on. Warm light flooded the room.

Ethan’s eyes snapped up. He surveyed the room, gasping, until his eyes landed on Nate. He was leaning against the doorframe, clutching a notebook. He locked eyes with Ethan.

Ethan stared. An unfamiliar expression rested on Nate's usually-smiling face. He searched his eyes.

What was that? Pity?

No… Ethan knew that look. David had worn it often. Just a quiet, empty pain. Sorrow in its purest form.

But why was Nate... Ethan cleared his throat and struggled to compose himself. He had sweat through his t-shirt and Nate had definitely heard him screaming.

Fuck, Nate hadn’t heard him scream since…well since the day he ran almost seven years ago. Could he even salvage this?

Nate spoke softly, pulling his attention away from scrambling thoughts.

“...Was it me?” His voice was almost a whisper. He looked so tired.

Ethan blinked up at him. Those eyes were…hauntingly sad. Did he really care? Ethan looked away. He rubbed down his arms, trying to press away the lingering sensation of tearing shards. “No.”

Nate pursed his lips and nodded once.

Ethan glanced at the clock. 2:42.

“Um…sorry I…I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Nate shrugged. “You didn’t. I’ve been awake.”

The clock clicked to 2:43.

“Are you usually up this late?”

Nate took a few meandering steps into the room, contemplating. “Yes and no. More often than I’d like to be.”

Ethan glanced at the notebook in his hands. “Insomnia or nightmares?”

Nate gave a small smile. “Both. But tonight it’s just insomnia.”

….Nate has nightmares..? Ethan almost laughed at that. Almost. “What do you have nightmares about?”

Nate gave a halfhearted smirk. “Well aren’t you the nosey one.”

“Oh come on, you asked me about mine.”

“Only to see if I was in it. That’s different.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed. Scared tingled across his torso. “Why do you even care?”

Nate pursed his lips. That inky sorrow crept back in his eyes. 

“Maybe I’m just tired of hurting you.”

Aaaaaaaaand Ethan stared. Blank and computing and empty.

Nate quickly looked away, clearing his throat, then flicking his eyes to the ceiling. He grimaced. “Sorry, that was…weird.” He took a few steps back. “I’ll - uh - beat you senseless tomorrow to make up for it, how’s that sound?”

Ethan gave a small smile. “That’s assuming I don’t kill you in your sleep first.”

Nate crossed his arms. “Oh come on, those are new sheets, don’t get blood all over them.”

Ethan shrugged, trying not to grin. “Alright I’ll smother you with a pillow instead.”

“Much better, thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.”

They lapsed back into the ill-fitting silence. Still ness echoed on the walls, leaching into the carpet and sucked away by the thick fabric of curtains and matching quilt. Ethan picked at his nails. Nate fidgeted with the spine of his notebook.

“Sooo…what’s in the book?”

Nate glanced down at it, then tucked it to the side. “You really are nosy today, good grief.”

“It’s night.”

Nate gave him a dramatic sigh. “Okay fine, you’re nosy tonight.”

“Sooooo, what is it?”

Nate raised an eyebrow.

Ethan scoffed. “Oh come on, tell me and I won’t kill you tonight, how’s that sound?”

Nate offered a small smile. “Well when you put it that way, what choice do I have?”

He fidgeted with the book, slowly moving it back to center, grasped tightly between both hands. “It’s…a sketchbook. I like to draw when I can’t sleep.”

Ethan glanced at it. “Can I see?”

Nate laughed, stepping back. “Oh no, you’ve gotten more than enough out of me for one night. You’re done.”

“Oh, so it’s private?”

“Yup. Not for you.” Nate grinned, turning to go. Ethan thought he'd turn back - for a moment thought he might sit on the bed and talk awhile - but Nate just walked away.

He paused at the door. “Try to get some sleep.”

Ethan nodded. “You too.”

“I’d say goodnight, but…maybe 'good luck' is more fitting?”

Ethan snorted softly in amusement. “Good luck to you too.”

Nate switched off the light and closed the door softly.

Ethan stared at the ceiling in the dark, surrounded by nothingness. But..for once, the nothingness was a welcome buffer against the world. He watched the moonlit shadows play over the wall, thinking about graphite and ink instead of glass and blood.

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(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @heathenwhump @paleassprince @deleted-not-deleted @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta  @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @pickywhumpreader @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @nailevislev @throwawaywhumper @the-mourning-star @d-cs @pigeonwhumps @suspicious-whumping-egg @snakebites-and-ink @whumpedydump @orphans-parent @whumplr-reader)

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[proosh]

easter bunny pru….

[glo-katt84]

You know what

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Talvas Fathryon: I want a scrib on one arm and a mudcrab on the other.

Talvas: Tattoos i mean. i’m not like, taking a couple of invertebrates out on the town.

Nixiel Veres: You should. I bet they would have a lovely time.

[t4tails]

does jason todd compare things to george orwells 1984 unironically

[milesasinmorales]

I just saw someone say “Kili Oakenshield”. NO. “Oakenshield” is a fucking epithet that Thorin earned by using a piece of wood/tree as a shield in battle. It’s not a fucking last name, dwarves don’t have family names.

[kastillia]

to hel with you.

[scaryscarecrows]

Hey Frank how does a spa weekend sound? Seems like you need it

Frank takes a deep, calming breath. Adjusts the cucumbers on his eyes. Takes a sip of his margarita. Outside, there's a Noise. It doesn't sound like a good noise, but he doesn't give a rat's ass right now.

"Wastin' away in Margaritaville..."

Good plan.

He flails blindly until he hits his radio's volume knob (these kids and their damn touchscreens, give him a knob any day) and rolls it upwards. Ahh. Much better.

...

He could go for sponge cake, actually. Maybe in a little bit. Like hell is he getting up now.

[lucreziaborgiagf]

very puzzling that gawain decided to adopt the daughter of the man he had just killed rather than doing literally anything else. he doesn’t even bother to talk to the children he already has