#i want to draw baby Marrow now

[bbboar]

I got the bit of dialogue where durge sees a game of hopscotch on the ground at the blighted village and says "Did i play games like this in my youth? Was i sweet once?"

Just!!! Durge wondering if there was a time where even a wretched creature like them was an innocent.....

[kenshiluvr]

Heeeey could I ask for Kenshi with an reader where on a mission reader gets badly injured please?

aaa of course!! i love writing hurt/comfort :3

shooting star

kenshi takahashi/reader

summary: you get injured protecting him.

tags: major injuries, both reader and kenshi are protective of each other, they’re in love your honour, angst, hurt/comfort, good bf! kenshi, stargazing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Haha, very funny.” Kenshi chuckles sarcastically after you made another bad joke. You’d been reading them to him for a whole hour, because you want to learn how to ‘out-dad-joke’ Johnny, even if neither of you had kids. You giggle, lay on his chest, scrolling through your phone. “How about this one. Two fish are in a tank. One of them turns to the other and says: ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You giggle softly at the ridiculousness of the joke. “Little bit of army humour.” You muse, listening to Kenshi hum briefly. “Very little.” He notes, listening to your soft laugh.

Kenshi runs his fingers over your back, rubbing up and down gently. “Baby… surely we’ve gone through enough jokes by now.” He chuckles, shaking his head with amusement. “Aww, c’mon… just a few more?” You look from your phone to his, letting him kiss the bridge of your nose. “Nope. I’m not letting this continue. Unlike you, I cherish my sanity.” Kenshi laughs, carefully taking your phone from you. “Fine, fine. Spoilsport.” You shake your head, laughing a little. You and Kenshi had been dating for a little over a year now, always sticking together, everywhere he went you followed… even with his troubled past.

Kenshi appreciates you, and your bad jokes, you bring a light to his days that he was struggling to find. With the gruelling task of bringing his family’s name out of the Yakuza, of tracking down Sento… he felt any sense of normalcy slipping through his fingers like sand… but you kept him sane. You made him feel loved. “Get some sleep. I’m sure Johnny can listen to your jokes tomorrow.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Alright, alright.” You smile, stealing a quick kiss.

-

Trudging through harsh conditions, you follow Kenshi as he leads the way, being guided by the item that Liu Kang had given him to help find Shang Tsung. “Do you think we’re getting close?” You ask softly, glancing at the little compass in his palm. “I believe so…” Kenshi murmurs, glancing down at it as well. “Good… I think someone’s getting restless.” You chuckle softly, glancing back at Johnny, who had been whining the whole time. Kenshi hums softly, continuing on the path the compass was guiding him on.

Finally, you all arrive at a ledge, overlooking a grizzly fight between a group of human people and Tarkatan people. “What’s going on here..?” you murmur, brows furrowing. Kenshi hums, uncertain as well. Spotting Shang Tsung, you nudge your boyfriend, pointing the man out. Shang Tsung has a Tarkatan brought over, plunging a needle into his neck, drawing bone marrow. You grimace at the sight, turning away briefly. “This is… disgusting…” you murmur, eyes moving back to see the Tarkatan break free of his restraints, ready to harm the man your group had been searching for. “Come on. We can’t let him get killed.” Kenshi doesn’t hesitate, moving down to help. “Ken, wait-“ your eyes widen, scrambling to follow.

With a scrambled fight, you, Johnny and Kung Lao manage to disperse a few Tarkatans and humans alike, with you focusing on helping the imprisoned Tarkatans out of their shackles, giving them their freedom to escape this cruelty. Most give you wary looks, but a few nod thankfully and leave. Turning around, you see Kenshi in a strong fight with the Tarkatan that Shang Tsung had recently drawn bone marrow from, immediately moving over to try and help. Kung Lao grasps your arm, stopping you from jumping in, not wanting you to get harmed. “He can handle this.” He tells you calmly, bringing you back a little. “But-“ you glance from your friend to your boyfriend, eyes full of worry. “Relax. Kenshi’s a strong fighter.”

Sighing, you focus on finding out where Shang Tsung had escaped to. A pained grunt catches your attention, and your gaze immediately snaps back to Kenshi. “Ken!” breaking free from Kung Lao’s grasp, you run to his side. The Tarkatan he’s fighting scowls at the sight of you, drawing his Tarkatan blade from his forearm. You steel yourself, more focused on Kenshi’s safety than your own. With a hard slash, the blade slices into your side as if you’re made of paper. Kenshi’s breath hitches, watching the blood spill. Your name utters from his lips as he grasps you tight, feeling you crumple onto him. Johnny jumps in, finishing the fight for the two of you as Kenshi sits up, holding you tight to his body. “Baby… shh-shhh… i’ve got you.” Your boyfriend stresses, hand pressing to your deep wound. “What the hell were you thinking?!” Kenshi scolds, eyes full of worry as he holds you tight.

“Sorry- I-I didn’t think.” You chuckle weakly, resting your head to his shoulder. You feel dizzy, a lot of blood pouring from your wound. “C’mon, doll… stay with me.” He whispers, grimacing as your blood covers his tattooed hands. “Mhh… m’sorry.” You mutter, slumped to him. “Shh… it’s okay. Save your strength.” Kenshi’s other hand strokes your back, trying to keep you awake. “Stay with me baby,” he murmurs, voice cracking a little. “I need you.” Kenshi stresses, squeezing you close. If he lost you… he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

-

“Hey…” a soft voice whispers to you, two warm palms grasping one of yours gently as you stir awake. A pained groan leaves your lips, sighing softly. “Kenshi?” You mutter, blinking blearily. “Shhh… I’m here.” Your boyfriend moves one of his hands, pressing his knuckles to your forehead. “I thought I lost you. You fainted right there, in my arms…” Kenshi whispers, leaning down to gently kiss your cheek. “Scared me, baby…” he mutters, closing his eyes as his head rests against yours. “Sorry…” you whisper, voice hoarse, fingers weakly squeezing his.

“Don’t apologise. If it weren’t for you, I probably would of been killed by that Tarkatan.” He sighs, squeezing your hand in return. You hum weakly, leaning her head to his. “How long has it been?” You mumble, noting that you’re both back at the Wu Shi academy. “Shang Tsung, is he-“ you go to sit up, but your boyfriend eases you back down onto the bed. “Shh. Don’t push yourself. It’s been dealt with.” Kenshi murmurs, stroking your cheek gently. You sigh softly through your nose, closing your eyes in pain.

“Do you need anything?” Kenshi asks softly. “Painkillers… please..?” you whisper, fingers moving up to grasp his. “Of course.” Standing up, he kisses your fingers briefly before gently putting your hand down onto the bed for you. “I’ll be right back.” Kenshi assures you, stepping out of the room. He rushes right back, pills and water in hand, carefully sitting beside you on the bed. “Here, sweetheart.” Kenshi murmurs, helping you take the painkillers; he even feeds you the water, not wanting you to strain yourself.

“Thank you,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his. With a soft sigh, you press your head to his thigh. “Ken, baby… can we go outside? I wanna get some fresh air.” You mumble, looking up at him. Kenshi smiles softly. “Of course, sunshine.” He responds, stroking your cheek lovingly. Helping you up out of bed, he’s careful of the stitches on your side, supporting you as you walk. “Nice and slow… just take it easy.” He murmurs, holding your hands gently as he helps you outside.

Finding a bench, he sits you down carefully to give your side a rest, sitting beside you. It’s late, stars out overhead. Leaning to his side, you feel Kenshi’s arm circle around your waist. “Better?” He mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you rest on his shoulder. “Yeah…” you smile, eyes turning up to watch the stars that dot the inky, dark sky. Spotting a shooting star, you nudge your boyfriend, pointing it out. “Hm. Would you look at that?” Kenshi muses, smiling a little. “Did you make a wish?” He asks, looking back at you. “Yeah. But I can’t tell you now, can I? Or it won’t come true,” you giggle softly, watching it disappear from sight. “Aw, c’mon… you can trust me with that secret.” Kenshi teases, laughing softly. “Mhm. Well, I guess I can tell you.” You respond, smiling softly. “I wished that, no matter what, we stay together.” You admit. Kenshi feels his heart flutter. “Baby, you don’t even have to wish for that.” Kenshi tells you, kissing your temple lovingly. “It’s already true. I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles, pulling you a little closer.

[stardustandtwilight]

Dec 14 - Tell us about an OC you like, either your own or someone else's. Include a drawing, moodboard, or playlist if you'd like to!

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

This is based off this Rosamund Pike video and features my OC Sarah. This is an AU where the canon book events don't happen and I'm modifying how pregnancy with a vampire-human hybrid works.

...

Summer 2005

Sarah was convinced that God was making fun of her. That really was the only explanation for the way her life had turned out. Her little sister Sami had gotten leukemia as a kid and she had been a perfect match for a bone marrow transplant, which had led her down a path to studying the pathology of blood disorders as an adult. Then she became infatuated with a man who turned out to be a vampire – which should have scared her more than it did in the beginning, really what the hell was wrong with her – and now she was carrying his half-vampire baby. And if that wasn’t enough, a big side effect of vampire pregnancy was violent dreams about drinking blood, courtesy of intense blood cravings.

Yes. God was definitely making fun of her.

But at least for now, the blood cravings were in check. What she craved now was something decidedly more normal – pineapple. Fresh pineapple from the whole fruit, not the canned variety. Esme had gone to the grocery store to get some for her and she was currently distracting herself from the craving by playing Pokémon on Emmett’s old Game Boy Color. She’d gone from being very busy with her fellowship to having a lot of time on her hands. She’d tried various hobbies and the Cullens weren’t lacking in options, but Pokémon and other video games ended up being the one that absorbed her the most and kept the anxiety at bay.

There was no shortage of things to be anxious about – the fact that she couldn’t go out in public on the off chance someone recognized her as a missing person, whether Mark would eventually find her, what her family was doing, whether she’d even live through the delivery…

Everything was proceeding as normally as possible for twenty-four weeks and Carlisle was hopeful about the plan when the time came, but Sarah could not stop the intrusive thought.

Before she could ruminate further on it, Esme returned carrying grocery bags. Sarah hastily saved her game and turned it off. Her eyes zeroed in on the bag that had the distinctive pineapple leaves sticking out. “You are a lifesaver, Esme.”

In the kitchen, Esme got out a knife and cutting board, but Sarah shook her head. “My brother Shawn had a way to open a pineapple without using a knife and I want to try it.”

Esme raised her eyebrows. “Oh, well, this I have to see.”

Sarah sat on a stool at the island and held up the pineapple. “He could get out the base here and then he’d pull off the segments.” She pressed her thumb to start digging out the base and found there was barely any give and it made her thumbnail hurt.

Esme watched her struggle for a moment. “Do you need help?”

“No, no, I got this,” Sarah said. “I think.” Finally, she felt some give and she saw yellow. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Where did Shawn learn this trick?” Esme asked.

“College.”

“That explains a lot.”

Sarah continued working on loosening the base and remembered what Shawn called it. “I’m trying very hard not to call this a butt plug.” At Esme’s incredulous face, she added, “That’s what Shawn called it. It made my mom smack him on the back of his head. But in his defense, it’s at the base of the fruit and it’s basically like a plug.”

“I have a feeling that Shawn and Emmett would get along well,” Esme said.  

“Honestly, yeah, they would.” She almost had the whole thing separated and juice was dripping down her wrist. That was not helping with not making more dirty jokes. “Although if Shawn were here, he’d probably just be one more person to irritate Edward.”

“Why is that?”

“Besides his mind living in the gutter, he also has a know-it-all tendency that would clash with Edward’s.”

“Ah.”

With a last crack, the pineapple base came loose. “Yes!” Sarah tossed it on the counter. “Now to break off these segments into chunks.” It was considerably easier to break them off than digging out the base. She held one up in triumph. “Look at that!”

Esme just laughed.

Sarah ate the chunk and it was like she’d never had a better pineapple. She broke off another, a deep sense of satisfaction kicking in. “Is this what it feels like to hunt down your food?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“I went to a lot of effort for this, so I better not be puking pineapple later. Do you hear me, peanut?” Sarah said, poking her baby bump. She got a light kick in response which she took as agreement. “Good girl.” Another side effect was a nasty case of hyperemesis gravidarum and she had joked to Carlisle that it made her feel like the patron saint of emesis. At least that had calmed down since she began to drink blood, but it still flared up. But as Sarah kept eating her fill, there was no sign of impending nausea.

“That sounded like a mom voice,” Esme said.

Sarah sighed. “Gotta practice it, right?”

The front door opened then and Carlisle’s voice called out a greeting.

“We’re in here!” Esme called. Carlisle appeared a second later, still dressed in his lab coat. Sarah waved at him with the pineapple as Esme asked him how work was.

“About the usual.” He eyed pineapple. “It looks like you two have been busy.”

“Yep. Here.” Esme handed Carlisle the pineapple base and Sarah could barely hold back a laugh.

Carlisle shot Sarah a wary look. “Er…thanks?”

“It’s a pineapple butt plug,” Esme said and she and Sarah dissolved further into a laughing fit.

Carlisle blinked. “Clearly I missed a lot.”

[themculibrary]

Easter Masterlist 3

part one, part two

A Easter Surprise (ao3) - olicityfan15 frank/david T, 1k

Summary: Frank and David have started a new life together and for their first Easter, David has a huge surprise for Frank.

agony in the garden (ao3) - AliuIce0814 steve/bucky G, 696

Summary: Easter cuts through Steve to his marrow. Easter means a year since Bucky turned to ash three feet from his arms.

A Parent's Burden (ao3) - Marv-with-a-v (Marv_aka_Kitten_Writes) G, 1k

Summary: How do you set up an Easter egg hunt for a blind child? The same way you do for a sighted child, only with a little more creativity. But with every egg Matt finds, Jack finds a little something himself: hope that maybe, just maybe, things are going to turn out okay.

Boiled Eggs and Onions (ao3) - Siberianskys maria/bobbi T, 594

Summary: Allbingo Food Fest Prompt: Easter Eggs Ladiesbing Prompt: Spring

Easter Egg Hunts (ao3) - Toxictimefanfics_Orphan_Account tony/stephen T, 2k

Summary: Basically I wanted a fic where Tony and peter got to meet Stephen's family without them immediately hating them (Victor doesn't count) also nobody freaks the fuck out in a bad way when Stephen reveals he's Sorcerer Supreme.

Easter Shenanigans (ao3) - Jellybean96 skye/grant G, 2k

Summary: Basically what the title says

Holiday Spending (ao3) - tisfan bucky/tony E, 70k

Summary: anonymous asked:

Winteriron collage au w/fake relationship; Tony asks Bucky to be his fake boyfriend, either to shake off some matchmaking friends or to piss off Howard. Turns out Bucky is all Tony ever wanted in a boyfriend. Too bad it's not real (extra angst if Tony paid for Bucky to act as his boyfriend, now Tony wonders if it was all for the money). Happy ending?

Loki and Steve's eggcelent adventure (ao3) - aLoggedInReader loki/steve G, 5k

Summary: Easter is coming up and weird things start appearing in front of Steve's door. Figuring out who they come from is not that hard, figuring out the why is a real head scratcher though.

Of Pink Easter Bunnies and Drawing with Cap (ao3) - Stories_can_make_us_fly steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Bucky didn’t expect their Easter Sunday to turn out like this. Then again, what had he expected when Tony Stark had invited them to a picnic in Central Park with the Avengers? And really, having Steve by his side was all he needed anyway.

Picture Perfect (ao3) - Everythingirl44 lincoln/skye G, 592

Summary: "I don't understand why I have to wait in a two hour line for a picture." Daisy mumbled, gently lifting their daughter on her hip.

"Because it's her first Easter, she needs a picture with the bunny."

Or

Daisy gets irritated waiting in line to meet the Easter Bunny.

Resurrection (ao3) - Eledhwen G, 1k

Summary: The city is too quiet in these odd, odd days, and Matt cannot sleep. He has been out every night, prowling the rooftops in the shadows, but the sounds reaching him are sounds he cannot help with. The violence on the streets has stopped; the violence in people’s homes, he cannot help with, though he wants to.

run baby, I'll catch you when you fall (ao3) - HogwartsToAlexandria G, 300

Summary: Memories are sometimes all you have left.

Simple Moments (ao3) - MissAdoration steve/natasha, clint/laura G, 29k

Summary: Just a little insight into what happens at SHIELD besides the craziness that happens within the stories of “Love Through the Pain”

Tampa: A Visitor's Guide (ao3) - DJClawson matt/theo, foggy/marci T, 4k

Summary: Theo takes Madame Gao's advice, and Matt learns to deal with feelings.

The Easter Hunt (ao3) - NovaRain, STARSdidathing loki/tony G, 1k

Summary: Tony is an Easter Bunny hurrying to collect some last minute chocolates, all while being watched by a certain smitten fox.

The Simmons Family Easter Luncheon (ao3) - RoseDeVents jemma/grant E, 3k

Summary: Jemma brings Grant to Sheffield to meet her parents over the Easter holiday.

[zooterscooter]

thank you for asking @expensive-muscle i will be doing that for sure

i had this sitting in my drafts for a while so here we go hehe. it'll be quite a bit so i do apologize in advance

original post with the tags

the guy with the mask will be first :) his name is mars (legally his name is micah, but he doesn't go by it anymore, not a deadname or anything he just doesn't like it. not terribly important but yknow) he's part of a group of four... outlaws... i guess ? the group consists of him, his sister, the other girl in the drawing (who's also the one in the fifth drawing) and one other guy (when you look a bit closer on the 8th drawing, he's the one in the speech bubble they're talking about. their names are cecil, finch and karman, in order of being mentioned

he was unfortunately caught in a warehouse fire a few years back (story wise) and was pretty badly scarred bc of it. he wears the mask so he doesn't have to walk around with his scarred face and blind eye showing. he really only wears it out in public and around strangers because it is quite uncomfortable

i'm still working on a group name for the four of them, and nothings really sticking. but since we're on the topic of them i'll talk about finch a bit :)

she's a hitman, late 20s. she's been employed by a bunch of higher power people in the city where she lives, so she's kinda sorta untouchable by law. she's been taken in a few times but is always bailed out by someone somehow. money can buy anything i suppose

the other two mentioned, karman and cecil, are kind of a team... as someone who has no clue how sports betting works (yet) i don't really know how to explain, but cecil is like... this worlds equivalent of a nascar driver kinda ? kinda not really. anyways. betting is legal in this city, but for karman and cecil it's like an inside job, if that makes any sense at all. i haven't thought about this group as a whole much if i'm being honest, but it'll come in time i hope

moving on !!

onto the "mf in the beanie" :3 her name is lilith and she's a screenwriter. her dad kinda sorta skipped town when she was younger, but she is super close with her mom, and they're so awesome. her mom gets a bit sick at one point, spending a lot of time at various hospitals, but she ultimately turns out fine

lilith wanted to peruse comedy as a career at one point, but she didn't really get as into it as she thought she would, so she just sticks to the behind the scenes by writing :)

the "homosexual friendship" is about her now girlfriend, who was an alchemist at one point a few years ago but i've changed her career a bit and don't know the exact word to describe it 😭 her name is ophelia, very smart, very pretty, younger sister.

i'm going to be honest with you, dear readers. lilith was a danganronpa self insert at one point. she comes from a simpler time. her and her girlfriend, tho said gf wasn't a self insert, just a dangan oc. not anymore tho....

the more i rack my brain for info the more i realize i just. don't have the descriptors for anything that they do. questions welcome and encouraged

now onto the rest of the people in the drawings, i'll attempt keep them short and simple hehe

1st drawing- ophelia/her sisters moms, vada medea (left) and sage (right) both are biological. i took inspo from how the "making babies from bone marrow" stuff that's kinda sorta happening in the science scene. the timeline for all this takes place about a hundred years from now, so i think they'd be figuring out how to do it with little complication. i am not a scientist myself, so i have plenty research to do to get the specifics down

2nd drawing- ophelia's sister, rue, and some 180 year old freak scientist. the freak is the one in the sewer. he had a grand time fucking up a bunch of people and giving them what appear to be lizard scales, and then was told to get the hell out of the city lest he causes more chaos. unfortunately the scales get passed down, but they really have no impact on the lives of the people who have them. rue is nurse who lowkey gets corrupted by the freak (his name is emrys) after her girlfriend passes from a long battle with various medical complications. she takes her grief to the wrong person and starts to lose her mind.

3rd drawing- their names are kaleo (left) and Non (right) not quite sure what their deal is exactly if i'm being honest. kaleo is a boxer, and Non just... exists really. he's alive to be pals with kaleo so far 😭 he's one of the people who had the scales passed down to him, which is silly and fun. kaleo is related to the person in the 6th drawing, which i will get to

4th drawing- zephyr (left) and kairos (right). detective and cop due respectively. sometimes they're tasked with keeping up with finch and her little gang of criminals but they can't really do much.

5th drawing- that's finch. love her

6th drawing- her name is desdemona and she's a spirit freak. she's been alive for hundreds of years or maybe she was just willed into being alive yesterday. she's got a bunch of weird spiritual abilities, like time travel (sounds cheesy) and communicating with the dead. she also eats people sometimes but that's a minor thing don't worry about it. she's the "wrong person" rue went to after her girlfriend died... oopsie. kaleos relative somehow also. the body on the floor is her ""human disguise"" because she can't really walk around town with a skull on her head. said skull isn't hers btw

7th drawing- holt (welding the sandwich) and caspien (watching him weld) they're just a little duo of gays tbh. it would take a while for me to explain it all so lmk if anyone wants to hear about it. holt is a mechanic, early 20s, and caspien is legally dead but he's fine. has wicked nightmares a lot but other than that he's fine. caspien and zephyr are brothers.

8th drawing- finch and mars :)

9th drawing- lilith (explained above) and her pal alaric. alaric is the guy that knows everyone and everything about the city they're in. somehow related to emrys (sewer freak) but neither of them are exactly sure how. emrys shouldn't even be alive but here he is, corrupting the youth

10th drawing- eve and varden :) (varden is @yaffles-world 's oc, shoutout to you) eve is sage's sister, making him ophelia and rues uncle. one of the only guys in the family which is lowkey funny bc he's a trans guy. someone had to attempt to balance the scales i guess. varden is his secret partner he hid from everyone for like 15 years because he was scared of being made fun of for some reason. i dunno. he's my main projection oc and even i don't get it. his full legal first name is evening btw. he's named this because i was like "hey wouldn't this be funny ?" and then it stuck. eve is an astrophysicist (which is why his name is funny to me) and varden is a mechanic :) lots of mechanics in the city

and with that im gonna cut it off or else i'd just keep yapping on in a single post about everything. thanks for taking the time to read this all if you did, please PLEASE ask questions i obviously love talking. asks are encouraged

[abimee]

wtf is baby bones, i want to know your unique creatures. i only know this phrase from an annoying undertale au.

Baby Bones is the name of my original story involving these creatures!

the story goes that the earth is lived on by two types of people; Walkers, and Monsters. God made them as siblings to share the world with, and they are equals. Walkers and Monsters developed their own ways of living, communicating, and even language, but they are equals in all regards.

the way they differentiate the walkers and monsters is that Monsters lack bones in their body, they typically walk on multiple sets of legs or none at all (but there are cases of two-legged monsters), and they all reproduce/give birth by consuming each other

the story of Baby Bones is that Chaos, an Ulnar Manipulator, flees with her wife Reverb, a Nerve Farm, after she ate a Monster in hopes of becoming pregnant. Now Chaos wants to find her a safe place to give birth away from their people who want to stop it.

These terms are a bit vague in this universe, but a good summary is such:

Walkers, the two-legged siblings of Monsters, reproduce by cultivating nerves from Nerve Farms, people who's bodies naturally construct and create immense amount of nerves within their bodies. The Ulnar Manipulators are people capable of forming and making bones, where they will then construct a child of nerves and bones and a Basket will incubate them until the nerves and bones form a child inside of them, and another Walker can be born

Basketing = a selected Walker will consume the bones and nerves and become pregnant, and will spend nine months being cared for and looked after as the baby develops inside of them

Ulnar Manipulator = people either born with or taught the ability to create bones, whether it's because their body creates an abundance of bone marrow or they learn to create it themselves from the natural world

Nerve Farm = people born with the ability to rapidly create an abundance of nerves within their body, they are ''farmed'' for these nerves to create more children and for their health

Reverb consumed a Monster because Nerve Farms aren't able to be Baskets, so instead she looks to how Monsters reproduce and decides to consume a Monster to have a child like they do. Chaos takes her away from their town and off to a safe place for her to have this Monster child, as the town they live in do everything in their power to make sure this does not happen.

''Baby Bones'' is what i call the style i have for these characters, which has a rulebook i follow. just drawing any sort of blob with a head does not a baby bones make, so whenever i use this style i call it ''baby bones'' cause its following a specific set of characteristics i give it. my own persona is also a baby bones character!

ive also begun drawing fanart in the style, but i try to steer away from it because i worry about it being unappealing to others and dont want to draw fanart in the style and have people see it in the tags and be mean to me about it/get weird vibes about me from it

the style and design of the monsters are not meant to invoke a sense of ''strangeness'' or ''fear'', i in fact want to use them to make art helping people question why they see certain things as strange/offputting and how the depiction of bodies in our art influences us even with the ''inhuman'', but mostly baby bones is just a little personal thing that i enjoy drawing in and find it very fun and relaxing :]

[reikeip]

Crossroad ♱ Crowd 5

Location: Underground Livehouse

Rei: “♪~♪~♪”

“Fuhahaha! Tremble, ya fuckin’ idiots![1] Every single one of ya looks tired of livin’—do ya not get the point of bein’ born~?”

“The war is over, and from it we rose! What do you desire in this time of peace? Scream it loud!”

“If ya keep your mouth shut, nobody’ll know~ Don’t ya dare be a buncha obedient babies~!”

“Guess I’ll have to say it for ya. You wanna take this wishy-washy, laid back world and fuckin’ destroy it—right?”

“Well then, shout! Bare your fangs an’ bite! Roar ‘till it comes echoin’ back to ya! Shout! Shout! Shout!”

“Vomit up your love, your curses, an’ pray! Bathe in blood an’ guts—go through the birth canal a second time, an’ be reborn!

“Give me your first cries—let me hear the sound of humankind! Rock’n’roll…☆”

♪~♪~♪

Koga: (Yeah! Wow, Sakuma-senpai’s sending shivers down my spine! I feel like I’m gonna die from this euphoria!)

(The crowd’s going wild, and I’m really standing on the same stage as Sakuma-senpai right now…!)

(It’s like I’m dreaming! Oh, don’t ever let it end! Even if my voice goes hoarse and I start throwin’ up blood, even if I start suffocating from a lack of oxygen, I want to keep singing with you…☆)

(Just look at me, Sakuma-senpai! I admire you!)

(I’ve been strumming at my guitar day after day, and I’ll keep going until it gets so worn out it disappears!)

(So recognize me for it! If only you would face me, and look at me with those crimson eyes that belong to hell’s king!)

(At that very moment, I could die…!)

“♪~♪~♪”

Rei: (Hey~... It’s great you’re havin’ fun and all, but ya should be facin’ the audience—not me.)

(These people are takin’ precious time outta their lives to gather here with us. If they feel like they wasted it, you’re dishonorin’ us idols.)

Koga: (Oh! Got it, Sakuma-senpai! This god will raise your stage, makin’ it more and more lively! Kyahahahaha…☆)

Keito: “♪~♪~♪”

(...Those two, they’re communicating through eye contact. Well, I have no clue if they’re really holding a proper conversation or not.)

(Though, I’m rather surprised. I caught a glimpse of it when we were doing lessons, but Oogami is more than just talk.)

(He has talent, the potential to blossom beautifully—but he’s still unripe, and far too wild.)

(When Sakuma-san is close by he becomes shockingly steady, as if he’s following after his example.)

(He must really like Sakuma-san, huh… Love, it makes one stronger.)

(That is a constant in all stories, a universal truth.)

(I was right to choose rock as the theme for this stage. It’s a genre Oogami likes, and something Sakuma-san has experience with.)

(When you compare the two, rock is actually more prevalent in culture overseas than our concept of idols.)

(What’s more, Sakuma-san really got a read on the underground livehouse’s clientele.)

(So, he’s making an impression by talking in extremes. Like, good grief, what’s with the whole “tremble, ya fuckin’ idiots” thing?)

(I’m the only one who’s been slacking in my studies here, but I put in enough hard work in the past week to at least match their rhythm.)

(I can see it. I can feel it in my bones—right now, we are strong.)

(We’d be able to stand toe to toe with Valkyrie, who are already well renowned and respected by the entertainment industry—no, we could even compete to stand beside professionals.)

(Aah, this is fun. I’m being involved in something greater—being melted down to the marrow of my bones and fusing with it.)

(My silhouette has disappeared, and I’ve become a part of something glorious.)

(With a passion I cannot produce on my own, I can venture into a story I’d struggle to ever reach on my own.)

(I love this feeling. I have a similar—or even stronger—feeling of omnipotence to that I get when I’m drawing manga.)

(In this moment, for just a short period of time, we are gods—the rulers of this world. That’s the illusion I get.)

(In this world, this reality, it feels like I’ve become one of the vital characters to the story.)

(I’m so happy, so blessed, to the point I can’t believe it. Ah, this is why I wanted to become an idol.)

(Writing manga allows you to become a god-like figure to that story. But, I’d prefer to do that in this world, where I live and breathe—)

(I don’t have to be the main character, I’m not cut out for it. But, I’d still like to take on the role of a character in a wonderful story.)

(A character who everyone cheers for, recognizes, and loves.)

(Even that unreasonable childhood friend of mine, Eichi, fell captive to the charming concept of idols…)

(And I, too, wanted to be one of them.)

(Idols, they’re the kind people who live in all the novels, manga, and stories I eat up. They’re fascinating.)

(They don’t live deep in the mountains, cut off from earthly life—they live mixed in with the world, with chaotic worldviews.)

(I admired them. That’s why I descended from the mountains, stepped into the world of the living, and that’s how I came to sing on this stage.)

(I am a novice who’s slacking on my Sadhana—It would be justified to lecture me, for I am such a vulgar person, so far from attaining enlightenment.)

(I want to have faith that this dream—this prayer—is not some wrongdoing.)

(Eichi. Your dream and mine, they aren’t really the same.)

(It could be that your goal of becoming a better idol aligning with mine is a coincidence… that is a possibility.)

(Even as someone who’s met you long ago, I can’t understand the corrupt, murky, pitch-black hatred that seems to burden your soul.)

(A darkness that, no matter how many sutras I recite, I cannot exorcise.)

(But still, I want to recuse you. You’ve always been the one person on the same page as me.)

(Like two halves of the same soul, we are no strangers—you are my best friend.)

(What’s more, I am the son of a Buddhist temple. To embrace, love, and rescue even a strange, unloved creature—that is the role of a monk.)

(You’re just like me, so by rescuing you, I feel like I can reach salvation myself.)

(Making your dream come true, that’d be the same as making mine come true.)

(...Isn’t that right, Eichi. My first, and only, reader.)

(Together, let’s weave a story. Let’s enjoy ourselves, just like we did as little kids.)

(O Buddha, please guide me; May the path I walk on be that of righteousness.)

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This is actually Koga's signature, “震撼しやがれ愚民ども”, which is often translated to “shake to your very core, ignorant fools” and the likes. It's found in melody in the dark as well as various stories.

[v-h-lupin]

Marauders as Portals songs

Remus --- Moon Cy- JK JK Battle of the Larynx! "they talk without thinking, they bark while theyre shaking with teeth that are round and dull" "how stupid, selfish baby. dont you battle with my larynx tonight. ill wreck you, if you chase me"

Sirius --- Evil, "if you bite my hand again, i will never feed you, you can call me evil" "I won't be mistreated, please call me conceited." "take it to the grave if you want to play pretend,

Peter --- Leeches "slimy, and superficial, straightening their artificial yapping to seem official" "how much blood can you draw from the flesh thats not yours, my hands arent yours" "gnaw on my bones, no marrow left to keep you enthralled"

James --- Light Shower, "I was surprised to see heaven in your eyes, feels like ive never felt the rain"

Regulus --- Void, "theres rotten things left in me, injected by society, no one here but me to judge me." "i hate who i was before" "like a priest behind confession walls I judge myself" "so strange, im tryna find a doorway, my eyes are staring at me, they seem so unhappy"

Mary --- Milk of the Siren , or The Contortionist. "Engraved in our memory...Our mothers, the witches they banished and burned, All of our sisters were killed and abused By sword-swinging men who would always accuse" "

Lily --- Nymphology, "I won't lick your wounds today, But I'll throw you in a grave, get you with my suffering, I'm not crazy, I'm not wild, you're just stupid, little child. Get your image off my back"

grant --- ALSO Light shower, ok??? "you turned up the heat... my past grew mold around my heart, all my sadness, anger, regret disappeared"

Pandora --- Faerie Soiree, "Led me astray to the faerie soirée, Alone, alone, And now I wanna run with the magic, Lose sight of the gravity of home" "somewhere on venus, theyre searching for me"

Severus --- Spider Web "I'm hiding myself from the enemy, I wish to not be perceived" Didn't ask for this dangerous visibility, I'm afraid I'm too scared to sleep"

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

So - let’s pretend you know the drill. I look at the Akudama. And associate one of the 7 deadly sins songs from The Evillious Chronicles to each of them.

This is just a text post to throw my ideas out there, but if I’m inspired, maybe I’ll doodle something for some of these? ヾ(•ω•`)o I’m still proud of my Owari/Conchita crossover drawing from a couple years back

+lyrics to indicate what inspires me the most about these.

The Lunacy of Duke Venomania • Lust • - Cutthroat Oop. //"The flavour of the libido with hidden poison / The pleasure of the thrusted blade / Blood and sweat come together and mix / Before long changing to drops of purple."

Evil Food Eater Conchita • Gluttony • - Brawler Well, he liked his food, but he also never had enough. // "Completely devour everything in this world / There's still room to go in my stomach / This pale blue, shining, deadly poison / is most suitable as a spice for the main dish / Chew it down to the bone marrow / If that's not enough, bite into the dishes too."

The Daughter of Evil • Pride • - Doctor At least, royalty is probably something she'd enjoy. This just makes sense for her. // "Come, kneel to me ! / The flower of evil sweetly blooms / with brilliant colour / The pitiful weeds around her / Indeed, they'll turn to nourishment and rot away."

Gift from the Princess Who Brought Sleep • Sloth • - Hacker This one is more so based on irony. Look at it as what Kanto did, contrary to what he would have wanted. // "Unpleasant reality, unrequited feelings / Inside a dream, these things can be forgotten / Like a baby inside of their crib / with your eyes closed, abandon yourself!"

The Tailor of Enbizaka • Envy • - Courier This is about fixating on your work regardless of your frustrations. And crime. // "But I must persevere with my work. I hold my scissors very hard in one hand. / The sewing scissors are a keepsake of my mother's. If you really sharpen them, they'll cut even better."

Judgment of Corruption • Greed • - Swindler What? Greed? Swindler doesn't care about money, does she? Well, she's still rather selfish, isn't she? // "A vicious general is a mass murderer / A capital crime charge is natural / I was handed a bribe, and I / declare the defendant innocent / In the resulting rage, a civil war began / the general was killed... / His miserable corpse is exposed on the field."

The Muzzle of Nemesis • Wrath • - Hoodlum Haha. Death moment. // "Hey mother, right now, I'm aiming the muzzle of my gun at a man / A son of a bitch who ruined many people / And filled his own pockets / For the sake of this man, I even killed the one I loved / And then I shot myself too, but I couldn't die / The time has come for my revenge, so / Come, repent."

[the-writing-mobster]

Hi, nice to meet you, I'm your fan of the books and drawings of "What do you want?" and other shipp frisk/sans books. And I would like to talk to you about shipp frisk/sans books, what would you recommend if you please.

Good Evening Dear Heart, and thank you for the ask! 🫰🤍🖤

I'm so glad to hear you're a fan of WDYW! Before I get into it, if you haven't read “Baby Face” or YWIW I highly encourage you to read those! I also have that one Christmas one shot “We'll See” if you want to check that out.

So on the topic of fic recommendations... Y'all this is embarrassing and also, y'all are gonna crucify me for this. The truth is, I... I actually don't read fanfiction? I only write fanfiction for the most part. I'm just really picky about what I read and watch (that goes for books, shows, movies, fanfic, etc). This goes for Frans and Undertale especially because I have a very specific idea of how the characters would act and behave. I currently have a whopping Eight whole bookmarks on AO3.

So. Here are some tentative recs from me, the illiterate author.

Sooner or Later You're Gonna Be Mine is a classic at this point and I did read it back when it was still having regular updates, but it also ends in a pretty wild cliffhanger and unfortunately hasn't been updated for years. Also... This is kind of a Hot Take in the Frans community buuut... I don't consider it a romance! Listen, it's really hard for me, personally, to root for a love interest who is depicted the way Sans is depicted in the beginning, aka, a Sexual Predator. Sexual Predators aren't really appealing to me. It's definitely more of a Mafia Thriller for me. Still really well written, so I def recommend it, especially if you like WDYW, but that's just where I stand on that fic.

The only recommendations I have for Frans, are for fancomics on Tumblr. For instance Feline Bad by @sharkowskii is incredible, I love it a lot. Also, Kingdom of the Crystal Sky by @kodizzzle is a fun read, and I love the way they draw Frisk.

I've heard Songfell by Ikustioa on Ao3 is really good, so you could probably check that out! Also I've been meaning to read When Flowers Wilt by FransGivesMeLife on Ao3

Now that being said, I do have Undertale fic recs but they're not Frans, crazily enough! There's Bone and Marrow by my good friend @washi-undertale and also My Big Fat Fish Holiday Party by Andreabandrea on Ao3. Again, these aren't Frans fics, in fact they're not really ship fics either.

I don't know, I'm not really the person to go to for fic recs. The only fandoms I read fanfic for on a regular basis are The Dark Knight and Lord of the Rings.

If anyone else more well read in Frans fanfiction wants to chime in and leave some good recs, please be my guest haha.

.

.

.

[b0ne-marrow]

I've had some sketches piling up for a while now and wanted to make a comp of them! i'm hoping I'll be able to finish some of these soon!

I tried to organize them from oldest to newest but some are kinda off because GIMP likes to override the date somethings made when you save sometimes?

Explanations under the cut!

A redesign of my OC Bone Marrow! I wanted him to have bone markings since the beginning but I just didn't know how to do it at the time. The front arm markings will probably change and I eventually wanna draw his hair and stuff

This was like the precursor to the Splatoween drawing I did of my Splatsona Minnow! I didn't like it for that but I still thought it was cute as hell

I like. Really shittily put a Frostyfest outfit for Minnow for my friend so they could draw a commission for me askdfl;sklj. Here's a link to the Comm, and you should check them out!

In the peak of the MLP infection AU stuff, I had caught Covid. And with Splatoon taking over my brain, I heard of Weeping Ink Syndrome as well! I Thought it'd be funny to draw Minnow with it but never got around to it skaldfkl;sdjf. I wanted to call this "Putting the 'weeping' in Weeping Ink Syndrome

After I drew this Valentine's drawing, I wanted to redesign my boy Orchid Rose! Just needs to be finished

A redesign of an old fox girl I had made a while back. (The one farthest to the right in the ref images) I wanted to make her a Lynx! I also had like. the random ass idea of a rantsona that was just a plasma ball in a suit that I thought about pursuing.

Slight redesign of my Pokesona! I just called them Marotales (being a marowak and ninetales fusion) but I need a different name. I wanted to introduce Shiny Hisuian Zoroark into the mix as well and grab features from them.

I wanted to make an OC based on the salmonids that fall when you splat a mudmouth, but since I would've just. made them purple too, I decided that this is a baby pic of Violet! Baby's first job after being a snatcher was being a mudmouth :)

Doodle of my oc Kai-ang! I wanted to like. get her design down since I really haven't drawn her yet. Part of a bigger sketch page that'll post tomorrow!

Doodles to get a concept of an oc I wanted to make with a friend! You can see her here!

Been watching too much of this guy named Brandon James Greer and have really wanted to dip back in to pixel art! I wanna make it like. a base so I can use it for all my (humanoid) splatoon ocs and for others to use too!

[mitaukano]

Give me 17 for Aleksandra. I'm curious :3c

17. Does your OC have an enemy? What happened between them? Is it mutual or one-sided? Is it petty or serious? Is one party seeking revenge? Does one person want the other dead or are they content to hate them from afar? 

Oh man, does she ever. I actually have a prose prequel to the comic that sets up how she ended up with the band. But she does, in fact have an enemy. Her greatest enemy and source of most of her troubles. The Baby Yaga.

I really need to stop and draw out that old prose entry. I'll put a bit of it under the cut in a little bit, and link to where it lives on DeviantArt.

But yes! Aleksandra is currently stuck in Ireland (and was stuck in London for a time) because of The Baba Yaga. For her part the Baba Yaga absolutely loathes Aleksandra and her weird funky blood abilities. As they have the unique property of being able to injure wyrm tainted creatures even someone as The Baba Yaga. Also shenanigans with the spirit world but that's next chapter.

Both want to kill the other, The Baba Yaga see's Aleksandra as a threat to her hold on Russia. Aleksandra wants revenge for her family.

I would really like to revisit this portion of Aleksandra's life one day but I honestly think that is would make things far too complex in the comic. Her Ireland story, is very much just that just her in Ireland realizing some stuff. But maybe a side project for funsies. Or I'll just put it on Ao3 like ND Stevenson did for She-ra.

Groaning and the pull of her own tortured muscles were the first sensations Aleksandra felt. Soon followed by the wetness of the mud settling around her sprawled form, the rain a gentle patter in rough contrast to the agony she felt down to her very marrow. One eye opened slowly, closing swiftly as she saw the feet of her tormentor were a bare hands space from her face. A dry rusty chuckle came from somewhere above her, as she felt her chin lifted from the muddy ground. Fingers as dry as paper caressed the side of her face murmuring quietly, in a voice that resounded with age. “Poor child, my poor little granddaughter. Always so alone must you always run from place to place?” The fingers were under her chin now tilting her throbbing head back, forcing a strangled sob of pain once again from her. Had she been sobbing? The rawness of her throat told her this was the case, and she could not stop herself as several more broke from her lips. “You can not help the taint that is on you child, but not to fear your Baba Yaga is here for you, she will make sure you are cleansed properly this time.” With that Aleksandra felt her head dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Mud splashed into her mouth as she opened it to cry out once more, she shut her eyes tightly fear completely covering her. She has been a fool to seek out the witch; she should have known it would sense her presence the moment she stepped onto European soil once again. Baba Yaga’s connection to the earth had only been dulled, never completely severed. But for the witch to break the Iron Curtain itself…to come to Ireland was unheard of in the history of Russia. There were powers as old as the witch that walked boldly in this land, and here Aleksandra had thought herself safe to plan her next move. Her thoughts were suddenly jarred, as she felt herself lifted once again, weakly struggling in the stick arms that began to drag her closer to…she opened her eyes again and saw the giant mortar and pestle sitting on the ground. Aleksandra croaked out a howl, and kicked at the half creature that held her. Her foot connected solidly, nothing but a brush of the wind to something as ancient and deadly the Baba Yaga. Again the young woman kicked hard pulling wells of strength from her last refuge.

Full story link. https://www.deviantart.com/mitaukano/art/Eternity-Dreams-Ch-1-58890422

[skeletalheartattack]

Where is the doggy

right there, there he is. goodest boy you ever done did see. my podey bogg. my sweet boogy boy. the douggie of all time. a real poochy boo.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

baby, baby, sweet baby // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Heyyyy! May I request an Anthony Bridgerton imagine where Anthony is a new dad and it’s really fluffy. I love husband Anthony as well as dad Anthony! - @elennox03 

a/n: Thank you for such a sweet request! This isn't overly long; a snapshot into Anthony’s life as a father. The lullaby I mention is Brahm’s Lullaby - something that Anthony wouldn't have heard but I couldn't not use it. Title: Aretha Franklin - Sweet Baby (inspired by a scene from New Amsterdam)

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy, marriage and children, female centric labels - mother, wife.

Word count: 1.2k

“He’s so small,” Anthony murmurs quietly, marvelling at the sight of his son in his arms. A small, pudgy arm swings out of the blankets; a tiny hand reaches for one of Anthony’s fingers, the fist wrapping around the digit, holding it ever so tightly.

You smile from your place by the bath, indulging in the sight of your husband already so devoted to his heir. “Your mother and I were certain he would be bigger with the way I was carrying. He’s still perfect regardless.”

“Just like his mother,” Anthony compliments, lifting his eyes from his son to meet yours.

“You’re a flatterer, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Only for you, Lady Bridgerton.”

You tut, rolling your eyes playfully at your husband. Anthony turns his attention back to the bundle of blankets in his arms. The pregnancy had come as a surprise, no real decision to have children had been made, but ten months into the marriage, you announced you were expecting. Anthony never expected his life to change so drastically within a year, but twice now had it happened.

Anthony freezes momentarily as his son fidgets in his arms. His heir stretches his arms, his lips puckering as he tries to decide whether sleep or consciousness would be better. To Anthony, it seems the former wins as his son falls asleep, slow, relaxed breaths leaving him.

“It’s time for his bath,” You murmur, pulling your hand from the bath, satisfied that the water was the perfect temperature for your child.

Still so young, bath times had quickly become your favourite time of the day. After his birth, Violet and your mother had stayed for the first month, helping you both fall into a routine with your son. They had been there for his first baths; showing you the best way to support his head as you cleaned him. After their departure, the staff had asked whether you would like help, but you had declined, wanting to keep the moment for both Anthony and you.

The staff didn’t need to know that Anthony still worried.

“Are you sure he’s going to be okay?” Anthony asks; his tone giving away the worry currently knotting in his gut.

“Would it help if you got in the bath with him?”

“What?”

“Get in the bath, Anthony. Hold your son so I can wash him.”

Anthony doesn’t waste another moment; handing you your child before pulling off his shirt, stepping half-dressed into the tin tub. The water splashes over the edge of the bath as Anthony gets settled; frowning at the feel of his breeches sticking to his skin, but he would do this for his son. He holds out his arms, waiting for you to place his heir into his hold. His son coos as you adjust him in your arms; the soft blanket being pulled away, leaving him vulnerable to the cold of the room.

His son is solid in Anthony’s arms; reminding him of the fact that he is indeed a father – he has an heir, he has solidified the Bridgerton line for the future to come.

The water soon grows cold. His son is clean, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, cooing softly at his mother. Anthony’s heart squeezes tightly in his chest as he watches you duck your head, rubbing your nose softly against your son’s nose.

Anthony reaches for his child; feeling more himself when he holds him than he does when his son is held by another. He hadn’t expected this strong paternal instinct; of course, he was protective over his siblings – particularly the youngers one, they hardly remembered their father and when Anthony prematurely inherited the peerage, he had no choice to step up as their adoptive father. However, the urge to protect and love his son rivals what he feels for his siblings. He didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as he loves you, but the moment he felt his son kick against your stomach, his heart had stretched – making room for the overwhelming adoration for his son.

He cuddles his son close, ignoring the cold now seeping into his bones from his wet trousers. Silently, Anthony rocks from side to side, watching you amble about the room, gathering your son’s nightclothes.

“That wasn’t so scary, was it?” You tease, an amused smile on your lips as you take your son from Anthony, letting him change into dry clothes.

“I’m your husband, you’re supposed to bolster me. Not make fun of me,” Anthony sniffs, crossing his arms.

“But you make it so easy, my love,” You laugh quietly, taking care not to disturb your sleeping son.

Anthony brightens at the use of the term of endearment. He would always be your love; you would always be his darling. He finds dry clothing in a nearby drawer, dressing himself robotically as he watches you bounce your son in your arms. Anthony’s eyes follow you as you wander the room, humming a lullaby, your voice gentle enough to soothe even the angriest of men to sleep.

“Let me take him,” Anthony whispers, doing his best not to disturb the sleeping infant in your arms.

Standing on your tiptoes, you reach up, placing a soft kiss onto Anthony’s cheek, jawline. “Fatherhood suits you,” You compliment, drawing away from the love of your life to change into your own nightclothes, ready for the day to be over.

“Motherhood suits you, darling,” Anthony returns, beginning to walk around the shared bedroom. Anthony smiles to himself when he catches sight of the faint flush to your skin; his words having settled within the marrow of your bones.

The room falls into comfortable silence as Anthony continues to walk around the room with his son in his arms. He hears the rustle of bed covers, your contended sigh as you slip underneath.

“Does he have to sleep in his own cot?” Anthony asks, breaking the silence as he glances between the lonely cot and the inviting bed.

“Both our mothers said it would best,” You murmur, following Anthony’s gaze to the off-white cot. Plush toys fill the corners, and a comfortable mattress covers the slats of wood holding the cot up. Yet, it looks so lonely and to leave your son there for the night… it makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest.

“When have we ever listened to our mothers?” Anthony states with a quiet chuckle.

At his words, a large smile breaks across your face. You pat the empty side of your bed invitingly. “You’ve got me there,” You laugh, “He can sleep with us tonight.”

Anthony smiles as if he’s won the greatest prize on earth; it sets your heart pounding in your chest and briefly you wonder whether life would always be like this – your small family and the love so clearly obvious shining from your every pore.

The covers are pulled away; Anthony slipping under the covers, taking care not to wake the sleeping babe in his arms. His son is settled on the pillows between you; the both of you turning to face the infant, drawn to him. You place a single hand on the infant’s stomach, feeling the soft material of his nightdress.

It’s as if Anthony cannot help himself; he runs a finger from his son’s forehead to the tip of his nose, whispering, “Baby, baby, sweet baby.”

The baby stirs for only a moment before slipping back into his slumber filled with nothing but sweet dreams and happiness. Anthony meets your gaze over the slumbering body of your child; a smile break across his face, so wide the corners of his eyes crinkle from the force of it. Pure happiness displayed on his face as Anthony’s hand covers yours; pure happiness, pure love.

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​ @iammirrorball​ 

taglists are open, drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

[hybistrophile]

Cletus Kasady | Carnage Imagine: Pre-Symbiosis Extended Edition

[2]

🔪 🔪 🔪

"Sweet," he snickered, satisfied by the shiver arching your spine and pushing your bare chest against his still covered one. "Like I knew you'd be."

As his mouth moved along your pulse point, he pressed you further into the flat surface of the bathroom door, leaving you no choice but to climb him. And, as your hands clawed at his clothed shoulders and your thighs tightening around the one between your legs, you were maneuvered upwards by the wiry arms winding around you.

You craned your neck, the scrape of his canines down the strips of saliva he left behind after his taste test almost an ailment for a marrow-deep internal itch. "Cletus," you called to him, snatching his by the hairs at the back of his head, suffocating him with the scent of your hot flesh and the blood boiling beneath. "Cletus," you breathed in the sweat still clinging to his red curls, the smell of flayed animal flesh, and a long day in the butcher shop. "Cletus, don't stop."

Cletus responded with a strange sound that rumbled in his chest and had your cunt quaking. It was the growl of a hungry dog, not unlike the ones in the neighborhood you'd been throwing bones at. "Just clocked out, boss lady," he heaved, his teeth turning against the sensitive spot he'd been teasing with his tongue. "I'm givin' the orders now, so quit movin'. Gonna have myself a proper taste." Famished, he finally sunk his fangs into the meaty middle ground between your throat and shoulder.

Your lungs were long empty before you could cry out his name. And, with your nails scraping against his scalp now, you demanded and even dreaded not being the only one to draw blood.

Then, like a thunderbolt, you felt a fire spark up all at once in a single spot: the ass cheek he had just slapped.

Cletus cupped it afterward, his voice strained and his lips lingering on the other burn: his bite mark. "Didn't I tell you to quit squirmin'?" Hearing you whimper wantonly, he faced you, watching as you worried your lips. With eyes more blown-up black than green, he searched your own for something. "I coulda broken skin," he whispered waiting for your watery eyes to focus on the fire in his.

Your mind was still marinating in the raw smell of the carcasses he'd been carving all day, the spicy sting of his sweat and the salty taste of blood: your blood. You've been bitting your bottom lip and breaking your own skin. When you lapped it up, he looked like he longed for it, longed to rip your lip right off of your face. And his cock twitching between your thighs, still trapped behind his tattered jean, made it clear just what he was craving: a proper taste.

Suddenly, all those comments he made whenever you complained about flies and bees seeking you out specifically sounded like theories instead of regular old teasing: "You got that sweet blood, boss lady," he'd chuckle and go right back to chopping.

"You're right," you said, voice strained from your earlier scream. "It is sweet."

"Baby," he rasped, barely holding himself and his hunger in check. You didn't want him to do so any longer. "Baby, lemme have a taste. A proper one."

[anthrofreshtodeath]

So, a little while back, @dirtyrobber70 sent me this song as a rizzles prompt, and I said that if it inspired something in me, I’d write about it. Well, it did LOL. Below is the product of a few dozen spins of this record (still not sure if I prefer this version or the Selena Gomez one, but they’re both pretty good).

The August evening, late, oppressive, muggy, creeps into Maura’s skin not by heat but by emotion. She is in a cabin in Western Massachusetts, and it is air conditioned, but she cannot help but tug at the robe around her neck as if it chokes her - it plunges down her middle, but the way it presses against the back of her neck feels like the pillory.

She is getting married. Tomorrow.

She is getting married to Jack tomorrow. And she chalks all these tumultuous feelings up to the humidity and nervousness, because truly, the venue is beautiful. She had splurged for a forest wedding, and spent even more to hold it on this compound, where each group of guests would have their own cabin, while she and Jack would have separate ones to themselves - for decorum and tradition, of course. She does not want to be seen before the wedding. By him, a niggling part of her brain tells her, she doesn’t really want to be seen at all.

She had accepted his proposal several months ago out of spite, really. To rouse passion in Jane, to shake her out of her complacency and perhaps lead her right into Maura’s bed. Jane, instead, had retreated. Far, far into work, into sport, into anything that had nothing to do with Maura.

And so, the spectacular plan had backfired. At least, Maura muses as she looks at herself in the mirror, full face still on, hair still styled in its usual straight waves, she will be getting a husband out of it.

Jane isn’t even here.

Maura stifles that thought because it makes her want to cry, and she had spent the last few weeks learning not to do so at every thought of Jane somewhere else. When the doorbell of the cabin sounds throughout the rooms, she thanks it, because it gives her another reason not to shed any tears. She cinches her robe tighter around herself, expecting to either have to let in an emotional Angela or send away a lustful Jack, and wanting neither of them to see more of her skin than absolutely necessary.

When she opens the door, that niggling part of her brain wishes she had torn the robe off. “Jane,” she breathes out, the name more the biological function of an exhale, the necessary conclusion of breath, than a word. It has transformed beyond simple semantics and now forms Maura’s marrow. She resents how much it feels like oxygen when she says it.

Jane is indeed standing there, in slacks and a baby blue button up shirt, still tucked in from the day’s work. She holds two glasses in one hand, and a bottle of vodka in the other, holding them up. “Hey, you,” she says, smoky and hot. She is three feet away, but the words singe the skin on Maura’s throat, like Jane is already kissing it, already putting hands on her waist, up her back, though Jane has never touched her before. It is the way greetings from Jane have always felt to Maura. Perfunctory hellos performed like sex.

She hates it, and she hates that it draws her in. “Hi,” she says quietly, the tears back. She refuses to let them fall, though. She has some dignity.

“Can I come in for a drink?” Jane asks, raising her tired eyebrows.

Maura wants to disappear into the hairline that they approach. She is frazzled. “Y-you’re… you’re here,” is all she can think to say.

“Yeah, I am. I need to talk to you, Maura,” says Jane. “And I understand if you want to do it with me standin’ outside, but we’ll have more privacy in there.”

Maura looks to where Jane spots the sofa, small and cozy just to the side of the kitchenette. They would be so close, and she cannot resist the prospect. Perhaps there isn’t as much dignity as she once thought. “Ok,” she assents.

Jane nods, humble but victorious, and then steps in. Maura closes the door behind her, checking the outside for eavesdroppers or onlookers one time, and then they both sit on the couch. Jane pours a shot worth of alcohol in each glass. “I know you hate vodka, but it’s the good stuff, at least,” she explains, holding her own up to the light. It is dim, just lamplight on either side, but the clear liquid still catches it. “This is how I think of you, you know,” she says, just before she downs it all in one go, pulling her lips back to grimace at the smooth burn all the way down.

“In a cabin with liquor?” Maura asks, confused. She sips hers, and yes she hates it. Yes, it is still good.

“Like a shot,” Jane says. “Even when I take you in small doses it’s still a shock to the system,” she looks up.

Maura freezes. It is an admission she did not expect. It sounds a lot like desire. She crosses her legs under her, turning sideways on the couch, because she is not wearing underwear and somehow Jane would be able to tell how wet she is becoming. “I… I’m not sure I…”

Jane pours herself another drink, but doesn’t take it. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, not really. One look at you now and I feel like I’m gonna jump outta my skin. And I know… I know this is a shitty thing to do, the night before your wedding.”

“Jane…” oxygen again.

“No, no. Lemme get this out, ok? Before I lose the nerve,” says Jane. With the second shot down, she shakes her head from the burn and hisses. “Shit. Ok. I’ve just… I think we’ve been overthinking this. The whole time we’ve been around each other, we’ve been too much in our own heads, especially me. And I hate it, because what’s the point in hiding? I like to act. I have to act. So, this is me actin’. I know, know that I’ll regret it if I didn’t say that this, you and me, could be so much better than what it is right now.”

“Anything is better than what this is right now,” Maura uses sarcasm to cut and to defend, because none of this seems real. Jane, confessing but not confessing, doesn’t seem real. “We don’t talk. You left.”

“I know,” Jane doesn’t fight, doesn’t blow up or try to deflect the blame, which scares Maura even more. Jane sounds like an adult in love and that is the most terrifying thing. “And that’s on me. You told me you were gettin’ married to Jack and I fucked up. I… let myself get too afraid of fighting for you, so I decided to throw a pity party for myself instead.”

“You want to fight for me?” Maura asks.

She sees the confusion and the horror on Jane’s face, flashing for only the smallest of seconds. “Y-yeah. Unless that’s not what you-”

Oh no, no, no. Maura must course correct before the train flies completely off the tracks. “Do you know why I insisted that Jack and I have separate cabins?”

Jane gulps. “Uh, it’s traditional?”

Maura shrugs. “Because I think of you every time I sleep next to him. And I imagine you holding me and… it makes me feel like a liar. I wanted one last night where I could feel you, want you, unbothered. Because I…” here come the tears, fat and full and streaking, “I’ll never get that chance again, after tomorrow.”

Jane doesn’t cry, but only just barely. Maura watches her suck her teeth and snarl, her tell that she’s holding it together by a thread. “You didn’t say,” she croaks.

Maura cries and rages. “Because every time I tried to get close to you, you’d run in the opposite direction! You did it again! Even when I said yes to him to get you to come to me!”

Jane’s head snaps up. “What?”

“This was supposed to spur you into the action you’re always talking about,” Maura says bitterly. “What an asinine plan.”

Jane puts her glass down and takes Maura’s, setting it aside. “Don’t do it,” she says, bold, feral in the pose that she enters: one leg planted on the ground, one ready to strike on the couch cushion, her arm against the back of it and her face inches from Maura’s.

She smells like vodka and lavender. “Ok,” Maura says. She can barely think of words when Jane is in her nostrils.

“Ok?” Jane asks, to be sure. “I love you. Ok?”

“Ok,” Maura says. She doesn’t wait to be claimed, but does the claiming when she pulls Jane on top of her. She takes to her back, moaning when all of Jane’s weight lands on her front, and Jane is kissing her just like she fantasized about. Jane even puts those long fingers on Maura’s side like Maura envisions when she touches herself. Except, the robe she has on is too slippery and she knows those fingertips would spark wildfire in her if they could just touch her skin.

She is frantic when they kiss, tongues darting against one another, lips sucking and pressing and smacking. She is loath to move her hands from Jane’s face, that handsome, handsome face, but she needs to open her robe. She tugs at the knot until it is loose, and then shoves the sides of it away. “Touch me,” she orders.

Jane obeys.

Maura moans into the cabin air and her body sings when Jane’s hands roam over breasts, down her back, between her legs. She pulls Jane’s shirt out of its tuck and gets to work on its buttons, because everything that is undone between them builds back up into something better in the end.

Her heart will unravel, dress down, be laid bare, and then in the morning, just like the clothes that will trail haphazardly to the bed, will signify something new.

Because Jane found her way back.