#modern cannibals

[rebootghost]

so i’ve been reading homestuck fanfiction

(i have not read homestuck)

[thekidsfromyestergay]

Just saw a video like "um actually rocky horror isn't good queer representation because frank sexually assaults janet" girl he kills and eats people. It's called the rocky HORROR picture show not the rocky cute gay rep tw t-slur picture show

[thegnomelord]

speaking of cannibalism

...cannibalism drabble..with....idk any of the characters

Like how would they react to Cannibal!reader

-- 👾 anon

Hmmm idk

I feel Johnny would be the most into it, freaky fucker that he is would be both disgusted and weirdly turned on. Like some vires in his head would cross when he sees you - Teeth dyed dark crimson, blood staining your chin, a chunk of raw flesh hanging from your mouth like you're a rabid dog - and he would get so hard. He doesn't know why, it's just some stupid animal part of him is turned on by the savagery you show your victims.

Would probably beg you to sink your teeth into his flesh when you're fucking. Bite him wherever, he doesn't care, just bite him until he bleeds and moans, unable to tell why the pain turns to pleasure somewhere along the way to his brain. He get's incredibly hard from seeing blood weep from the bitemarks across his chest, almost blows his load when you use his blood to slick his cock up. And when your bloody teeth bite on his cock head? Oh instant nut.

And he gets so sensitive from just this one orgasm when he usually can go a few more rounds, shaking like a leaf and whining nonsensical words in some ungodly combination of Gaelic and English. Mark up his thighs when he's like that, take your time grinding his tensed flesh between your teeth and before you know it he's not only hard, but also cumming untouched.

[e-mptyflowerfields]

I’d crawl into his ribcage if he let me, like Leonardo DiCaprio in The Revenant, I’d curl up in him like he was a dead horse and I was desperate for warmth

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬

a/n: crossover that I really wanted to do. I've used dragons from every timeline.

gif cred: @gameofthronesdaily.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

I wanted to make this as simple as possible, so I'm not going into backgrounds or Houses or the wheres, whos and whys. But if you'd like me to make backstories for them, let me know in my inbox!

(but p.s. I can already see Kyle being a Velaryon Prince and Simon a Targaryen because of their natural features.)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 | 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒚𝒔

There's something very regal about John - he holds himself with dignity and grace. He walks with pride and knows his rank/his place. Because he's earnt it.

Meleys, who was once known as the quickest dragon in Westeros, also holds herself the exact same way John does.

She is the Red Queen, vicious, fierce and unyielding. She is royalty - looks it too.

I'm not quite sure she'd like a male rider - there would have to be a lot of winning her over. All her other riders have been female, and very bold. Yet, when Meleys saw the bravery of John, she allowed him to mount her.

But the two of them together would be an absolute force to be reckoned with. Intelligence mixed with tactics, and planning - they would soon become one of the most feared rider and mount in history.

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 | 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈

Known by a lot of positive traits, the first one being: understanding her responsibilities. Silverwing is the perfect dragon.

Great with people, friendly, and elegant. She knows when eyes are on her.

In the same way that Kyle can make a friend wherever he is. People find him very charming.

Both are great at socialising. This reflects how a dragonrider usually has similar traits to their mount.

Know their duties, but also know when enough is enough. They don't let others walk all over them.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 | 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓

Ooh boy, okay so these two bonded over being grumpy and moody.

While Vermithor used to be the mount of one of Westerosi's greatest Kings, I think he would like Simon a whole lot more.

Simon, who would never make him do anything Simon wouldn't do himself.

Both of them hate too much company.

And the only way to truly get away from people is in the air.

Vermithor might be considered an old man, but he's still got that passion within him, and damn anyone who says what he can and cannot do

The pair could be gone for weeks. Only relying on one another for company, aiding each other in getting food and Vermithor being wonderful at finding bodies of water.

Although they do usually go to the same places now.

Sometimes Simon forgets how formidable Vermithor is - and that in the past anyone who approached him would burn to death by his flame.

But really Simon only sees a big lizard with wings who snores when he sleeps and grunts when he's angry. Oh, and watch out for his tail because he will try to knock you over when he's irritated.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 | 𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒙𝒆𝒔

Let's gather what we know about Soap: intelligent (obviously, no one in the army reaches that level by being a complete tosser), he's active and ready to be in the field i.e, now the air.

Meraxes is known for being an avid flyer. Her first and only rider, Rhaenys the First, flew her mount so much - some say it was the collective amount of both her brother and sister riding their own beasts.

Johnny is the dragonrider who is constantly scowering for dragon eggs. If he finds them, he cares for them like they're his own children.

Johnny would literally be the Father of Dragons. Would 100% do a Dany and walk into fire to see if the eggs will hatch (don't worry the other boys look out for him and Meraxes would never let him be so stupid as to willingly hurt himself.)

If you have a different opinion I'm more than happy to hear it!

[decojellyfish]

Calico Valley

Thank you all so much for waiting! I really like how this one turned out. I was very much inspired by this playlist while writing. I recommend listening to it while you read!

------

Horror AU! TF141 Priest! Soap x Southern Belle! Fem + AFAB! Reader (She/Her) This town he was sent to is kind of… off. This girl is pretty cute, though.

SFW ~ Fic with fluff that rots away into horrific angst

Warnings: Horror themes, religion-related horror themes (specifically Christianity), an unhealthily protective father figure (extremely OOC John Price), brief swearing near the end, suggested murder, and cannibalism

───♡───────────── Beginning

In the little, Christian, Southern town of Calico Valley, John was staying at the local inn, filled with cobwebs, dust, and the possibility of paranormal entities. He did not fear, however. He kept his rosary close to him, and by close, he would sleep with it clutched in his hands every night he stayed in that inn.

He had been called to this town in regards to a supposed possession of a young boy. He was behaving erratically, spewing vile words that were not of the Lord but of Satan himself. The exorcism took about 4 hours before the boy was finally free of the demon’s hand. He even had the help of the town’s priest, John Price. After that, he would make his way to the town’s church.

John would sit in a random row, eyes shut, rosary in hand and pressed near his lips as he silently prayed. A few minutes into his stay at the church, he heard someone sit down next to him. He finished his prayer before looking over at who it was.

A young woman, dressed in a light yellow dress with white ruffles, lace, and ribbons accented all over the garment. You. Your hands were clasped in your lap as you kept her head low, a white bow placed at the back of your hair. You were also praying, though you would softly whisper it to yourself rather than silently think of it. A closed, lacey, white parasol rested against your leg.

Once you were finished, you blinked before looking at John. A small smile appeared on your lips. “I’ve heard rumors about a visitor in town… I wanted to see if they were true, I had a feeling you would be here.” Your voice was soft as if you didn’t want to scare the traveling priest.

John let out a small chuckle, “I take it you don’t get too many visiting priests?” “Oh no, we do. I’ve just never met a Scottish priest before, that’s all.” You giggled, a little embarrassed at the honest confession. “My father is this town’s priest.” You added.

“Oh really? I met him when we were exorcising a poor little boy. He aided me in the process.” He smiled, now interested in the fact that he had met the priest’s daughter. If he was being honest, he felt a small flutter in his heart when he laid his eyes on you. A worried frown had replaced your pleasant smile, a small sigh leaving your mouth as you looked away from him and at the painting of Lord Christ. “It pains me to know there is so much sin in this world. So many sinners, why can’t they listen to the words of the Lord…?”

He felt your worries, your confusion. He would lean ever so slightly closer to you, placing a hand over your clasped ones. “That’s why your father and I, as well as many others like us, exist. To help sinners be forgiven, and be relieved of their sins. But we can only do so much, dear.”

Your cheeks turned a light shade of red at his words and his simple action of holding your hand. It made him smile warmly, and you smile in return. “I never got your name, Father.” She asked, sitting up a bit.

“John MacTavish. Although, my friends just call me Johnny. And you, Ms. Price?” He asked with a small chuckle. You laughed as well, giving him your name as you grabbed your parasol and stood up, he did as well. “Perhaps I can show you around the town? It’s the least I can do for your services…” “I’d love to. Lead the way.” He smiled as he followed you out of the church into the dirt roads that directed the town.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had finished showing Father Johnny around, your favorite candy parlor, your father’s favorite pub, the barbershop, and many other little spots. Some secret getaways as well, like your favorite spot beside the flowing river that you would visit when you wanted to get away from your father when he was in a mood.

“Wow, there’s so much to this town, eh?” Father Johnny looked over at you, making you giggle and nod. “Yes, it’s got so many things to see and do. Say, would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I’m sure my father wouldn’t mind at all.” You smiled up at him.

“I would love to, Ms. Price.” He smiled in return, reaching out and gingerly grasping your hand. “Why don’t we head to your home now, hm? I can’t help but think your father is worried ill about where you are.” “He always worries too much about me.” You huffed, your fingers twirling away at your parasol as it slightly dug into the ground.

“Ah, he’s just looking out for his pretty little girl.” His words made you blush a bit, your smile evolving from a pleasant smirk to a happy grin. “You think I’m pretty, Johnny…?” He stared at you, into your gem-like eyes. “Of course I do, you rival pearls in matters of beauty.” Father Johnny took a small step closer to you, his face mere inches away from yours.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, the butterflies in your stomach dancing and fluttering about like there was no tomorrow. It seemed like ages as you could see him leaning in a bit more, the both of you knowing where this was going. “Oh, would you hurry up and just smooch me?” You spoke as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, loving kiss. He was surprised, but would happily melt into it and hold your face with his strong hands.

Price stood behind a thick willow tree, his hands angrily clutching each other behind his back. His eyes filled with rage as he watched the sight take place across the street. A man whom he thought was filled with faith and pureness had corrupted his daughter, luring her into a world of lustful romance. Sooner or later, she would be packing her bags to run off with this devil who called himself a man of God—selling her soul to him for a life of sin, birthing his demon children. Essentially leaving him to rot in this dying town.

He couldn’t have it. Something had to be done. He marched back to his home and began to prepare.

The kiss felt like it lasted forever, and you never wanted it to end. But, unfortunately, you both needed to breathe. So your lips parted from Father Johnny’s, a big smile on his face as he looked at you. “That was amazing…” You were smiling too but would look around as you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You looked back at Father Johnny, giving him a cautious look. “Just watch out for my father, got it? He can get rather… protective.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You two arrive back at your father’s house, Father Johnny trying to keep it subtle the way his hand is on the small of your back. His fingers caress the fabric of your dress.

Knocking on the door, it only takes a few seconds for your father to answer the door. A few seconds beforehand, Father Johnny had removed his hand from you. Your father had a warm smile on his face when he saw the two of you. “Father John, can I help you with anything?” Your father questioned, welcoming you in but halting the priest at his door. “Ah, your daughter invited me over for dinner. Bonnie told me you wouldn’t mind.” Father Johnny smiled at him, Price’s eye slightly twitching at the pet name.

“Ah, of course. Come in, come in. I’ve only got poultry stew cooking, I hope that’s enough for you.” Greedy pig, he thought to himself.

Father Johnny nodded as a silent thank you before entering the Price household, taking a look around before he smelled the stew your father had spoken of. “Lovely home you’ve got, plenty cozy.” “Only the best for my little girl.” Price mumbled, locking the front door shut.

The three of you were all sat around the table, each with a bowl of stew and a piece of bread. “What’s it like in Scotland, Father Johnny?” You asked, spoon stirring at your bowl of stew. “Father Johnny?” Price looked at you, confused. “Johnny is what his friends call him.” You answered as if it was the simplest question you’ve ever gotten in your life. Father Johnny smiled a bit at your bluntness, trying to hold back a small chuckle.

We have little nicknames for each other now? Price thought to himself, teeth gritting against each other as Johnny answered.

“Nothing too special, though I could be saying that because it’s my home country.” He laughed, causing you to laugh as well as you ate a spoonful of stew. “I hope I get to visit one day.” You hummed, going back to stirring with your spoon. “I think you’d love it, Bonnie.” Your father shut down the affectionate interaction between you two by, somewhat aggressively, reminding Father Johnny what your actual name was.

From then on, dinner was only the sounds of spoons clinking against bowls, the liquidy sounds of stew, and the gentle crunching of bread.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was the middle of the night, and you were sleeping in bed under your blankets with a nightgown replacing your day dress. A hand gently woke you up, causing groggy whines to leave your throat. Sitting up, rubbing at one of your eyes, you look at the perpetrator. It was Father Johnny. He had taken up your father’s offer to stay the night.

“Johnny… what are you doing here…? In my room…?” You whispered, still waking up. “Just wanted to give you a kiss goodnight… I couldn’t since it was kind of tense between your father and me…” He whispered back, holding your hand. You couldn’t help but smile, he was just so sweet!

You leaned forward and he gave you a gentle peck on your lips, before parting and giving another little peck to your forehead. “Love you, Bonnie.” “Love you too, Johnny.”

“Father John.”

You both nearly screamed when your father’s voice ripped through the loving silence that fell between you two. Father Johnny quickly stood up, dusting himself off as he looked at your father, who was standing in the open crack of your door. “Father Price.” Father Johnny replied. “I apologize, I was- I realized your daughter had left something of hers in the kitchen and I thought she would like to keep it close to her.”

Price held his hand up, signaling for him to stop talking before he smiled. “That’s fine, Father John. I just stopped by to tell you that I’ve received a desperate request for an exorcism.” “This late at night?” “It’s the devil’s hour, I’m not surprised.” Price chuckled a little, opening the door a bit more for Father Johnny to come with him.

Father Johnny nodded, understandingly, before giving you a loving glance and leaving the room with your father.

With that, you rested back into your bed. It seemed your father didn’t have a problem with you and Father Johnny after all. Perhaps it was because Father Johnny was a priest, and that meant he would keep you safe from sin. You smiled as you began to imagine your wedding, your own father being the one to wed you and Father Johnny together. Your wedding dress, what kind of flowers your bouquet would be filled with, what kind of cake you and Johnny would feed each other after the first slice was cut.

It made you giddy and excited to leave this town, instead, you would be living in Scotland with Father Johnny. Mrs. MacTavish. It had such a nice sound to it, wouldn’t you agree?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The loud crack of violent thunder ripped you from your sleep. It was pouring outside. Thankfully, it was only a Wednesday. You wouldn’t have to trek through all the mud to go to the church. You gave a small stretch before getting out of bed and walking down the steps. Your father was already cooking breakfast, but it was oddly enough another stew. Usually, he would be frying an egg or two, maybe even roasting a slice of ham to go along with it.

“Good morning, father.” You smiled at the back of your father’s head before you began to look around for Father Johnny. “Morning, dear.” Your father replied back, not turning to greet you. He was too focused on cooking.

“Do you know where Father Johnny would be? I figured he would be joining us for breakfast.” “Don’t fret about him, he’s just a boy. Go get yourself a bowl.” Your father answered, not wanting to hear any more of this ‘Father Johnny’ shit.

You silently obliged and got a bowl for yourself and one for your father, as well as one for Father Johnny.

Five minutes into breakfast, you were occasionally glancing over at the spot next to you at the table. Where Father Johnny would be, but it was only you and your father who sat across from you. Stirring at your morning stew, lifting up the meatballs with your spoon before gently placing them back down into the broth, you didn’t want to finish breakfast without the love of your life.

“Don’t play with your food, young lady.” Your father commanded, causing you to go back to sipping small spoonfuls of broth. “Make sure you eat the meat too, I don’t want you growing weak.” You followed his second command and scooped up one of the meatballs, taking a small bite out of it.

“This meat tastes weird…” You mumbled. “Well, you need to finish it. It’s not gone off if that’s what you’re wondering.” Your father retorted, eating the meat like he didn’t taste anything wrong with it. But you listened to him, father always knew best.

“I thought you would love the meat. It’s your favorite kind, anyway.” “Father, beef doesn’t usually taste like this-”

“It’s not beef.”

You looked up at him, confused. “I don’t think any other kind of meat tastes like this either, father.” “Didn’t you want to be with him forever?” Price replied blankly. “Father, what does Johnny have anything to do with this?” You were beyond puzzled at this point. “And where even is he? I never took him to be a man who likes to sleep in.”

“Dearest, he’s with us right now.” A small grin began to tug at your father’s lips. “He’s with you, too, my love.” You kept looking at your father with a perplexed expression, looking at him, then where Johnny was supposed to be seated, then your father again, and you briefly glanced down at your stew to think, what the hell is your father talking about? 

Then it hit you.

You dropped your spoon, eyes wide open as you stared into the bowl of stew that rested on the table before you. Your body began to tremble as you heard your father holding back a wretched snicker. You stared at the balls of that weird meat, taking in every single bump and wrinkle they had to offer. Until your vision began to blur, tears flooding your eyes and clouding your sight. Your hands reached up to cover your mouth. Whether it was to keep you from vomiting, or from screaming bloody murder, you didn’t know. One thing you did know, however…

Was that you were eating meat that once belonged to Father Johnny’s corpse.

“Isn’t it what you wanted, dear?” Your father was holding back barrels of laughter as he watched your response. “You and that son of a bitch together forever? Honestly, Lovie, you don’t know how terrible it makes me feel, knowing that I’ve raised such a stupid child. Who thinks that she can magically be swept away by some devil-boy.” Your father growled at you, slamming his hands onto the table, causing some of the stew to dribble and spill onto the wooden structure.

The only thing you could do was sob, hiccup, and wipe at your tear-covered face. “Oh, stop your fucking crying. Now that I think about it, you and him would’ve been perfect together. All that boy would do was cry and weep, begging for his life before I swung that axe down. I freed you from a life of sin.”

“I hate you!” You screamed at your father through your tears, standing up and shoving the chair to the ground as you did so. Crack. The sound of thunder striking close to your home as your father swiftly slapped you clean across the face, nearly causing you to topple over. It nearly synced up at the same time. You held your face, looking up at the monster that contributed to your creation.

“Go to your room.” Your father commanded. Even in your heartbroken rage, you still listened to him. You ran up the stairs to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were curled up in your bed, sobbing into your hands, when you heard your doorknob start to slightly jiggle. Your father wasn’t coming in, though.

You got up and tested it, giving it a little turn. But it wouldn’t turn. It was locked.

Your father had locked you in your room from the outside.

“It’s for your own good, dear. I can’t have you constantly getting wrapped up in all these demons who’re trying to control you and your gentle heart.” Your father spoke over your desperate cries to unlock the door, your fists banging against the wood. He left you alone after that. For the rest of the day even. You weren’t fed, you weren’t given anything to drink.

You were in hell. Satan, himself, had locked you into your own, personal ring of hell.

───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests, please feel free to put them in the submissions box! Love you guys, stay safe :3

[txttletale]

"I take part of myself, my essence, my soul..." The smile widened. "And put it on the page. I wrench a piece of myself out of me and mold it like putty. Characters, places, events, I devise them out of my own being. That is what it is to write. My experiences, my memories, my life, my imagination—I chisel out bits. An act of self-erasure. The more I write, I find, the hollower I become. "And then they... take that piece of my soul..." He stood up so abruptly his chair fell backward. "And they stick their filthy hands inside and rip out little pieces and jam them down their throats and chew and chew and chew. Hahaha." He took a step toward her. "They gnash their teeth and eat more and the more they eat the more ravenous they become all of them feasting on my contorted twisted corpse of a semi-soul maybe that's... maybe that's why..." Z. backed away, unsure if the man were dangerous or simply passionate, unsure what he was talking about. "I did it at first because I wanted to, I didn't know why I wanted to. It was fun, I guess. It makes no sense in hindsight, why I started to write. But I never expected these insatiable cannibals to gather like rats around me. So maybe when you say your friend isn't all there, capital-exclamation-point THERE!, well maybe that's because when he gobbled down a piece of my soul he didn't realize my soul was sour."

Bavitz, Modern Cannibals

[talesofwhimsy]

I'm 100 pages into Moby Dick and they just got on the goddamn boat

This book actually kinda fucks hard it's great?

[fluentisonus]

like how fucked up would it be to realize you're not cis while dressed like your dead brother who you're still grieving

[countrydionysia]

Dionysus by @beastial-bacchanal

Twice born, he cries Euoi! Euoi!

The frenzied, bull-horned one.

In equal measure fear and joy, 

Zeus’ flamboyant son.

There’s magic in his heady wine, 

And madness in his eyes. 

He is the lord of growing vine, 

Performers in disguise.

His maddened women tear the skin 

And rend the tender flesh, 

They feast upon the meat within 

And drink the blood still fresh.

In ecstasy, we call to thee 

O actor’s patron true, 

When we would set our wildness free, 

 We drink, and think of you.

[voxofthevoid]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Bleach (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo Characters: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, Kurosaki Ichigo Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Aged-Up | Older Kurosaki Ichigo, Canon-Typical Violence, Hollow Hole Play (Bleach), Dubious Consent, Frottage, Anal Sex, Violent Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary:

Among the bottom feeders in the Forest of Menos, there are rumors about a human with the hunger of a hollow.

[fslurusami]

i was going to put this in a compilation of other funney little doodles but its everything to me ive decided it needs its own post

[thatbitchmabel]

saw someone walking around with a tote bag that said “eat people, not animals” and wow Mrs Lovett would wear the shit out of that. And it’d be fantastic

[callsign-bunnie]

I Just Can’t Do This Anymore PT1

Rodolfo has been at his limit for a while. He can’t handle never being enough for anyone, he can’t handle loving someone who he is sure doesn’t love him back. He’s ready to be done with all of this. So, he writes his note and he says goodbye. And then... he wakes up again. But this time... he wakes up hungry. 

TW: Suicide, cannibalism, murder, self hatred, DD:DE

--

Dear Alejandro,

Or whoever reads this note. Alvarez, Alejandro… whoever. 

I’m sorry. I know it’s cliche, but I am. I’ve spent most of my life just trying to be better. Healthier. Nicer. I’ve just gotten to a point in my life where I’ve realized I am a deeply unlikeable person. 

I can’t make friends stay long enough, I can’t even get the man I am in love with to love me back. I am deeply and utterly unloveable. Unlikeable. I tried so unbelievably hard to just be someone that people would like. And I am not. 

I act like nothing affects me, but the truth is… it does. I am so deeply unhappy with my life and it’s getting to a point where I just can’t ignore it. Gentle teasing has become too hard for me to stomach. I say things and they’re ignored and… I want to fly off the handle. 

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be good enough. I’m sorry I couldn’t make everyone happy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

I’m sorry that I wasn’t born a daughter to my mother. I’m sorry I couldn’t be good enough to my father. I’m sorry I fell in love with you, knowing you could never love me back, knowing I would never be good enough, Alejandro. I’m sorry. 

I shouldn’t have even been allowed into the military. I lied on all of my tests. I just wanted to follow you, I wanted to stay with you.

I’m sorry.

Rodolfo.

Rodolfo looked down at the small piece of paper. Funny, he had felt like he’d had more to say before. But, this seemed to be all his brain could come up with as he folded it in half and left it beside his bed. He didn’t want to be messy, he wanted everything to be neat. 

No one would find him until it was too late. Alejandro was at a bar, likely having a hookup. All of their men were either home or in their quarters, asleep. 

Rodolfo would have full peace, full edge to do this. So, he started to take the pills.

He had been smart. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take all of them at once. So he had a giant bottle of water, which he was using to take them four at a time. 

And finally, a whole bottle of benadryl. A giant bottle. Not the little ones you get for four dollars at a convenience store or pharmacy. It was the big bulk off-brand bottle you get from a bulk store. 

He didn’t intend to wake up from this one. He had failed before. Perhaps he had wanted to fail, perhaps he hadn’t been quite ready to die, yet. But this time… This time he was ready. 

He’d woken up in a good mood for the first time in months. He’d smiled to everyone, hell, he’d even waved when he’d went to check on Valeria, who was being held for questioning. 

He’d given the biggest smiles he’d ever given to everyone, too. 

Some were shocked, he knew. But… It was okay, because it was finally over. He carefully curled up in bed, staring at the wall. Already, sleep tugged at the sides of his brain, and he gave into it, slowly. 

I’m sorry. 

-

Waking up was a new sort of hell. Rodolfo’s brain felt so unbelievably foggy and he was absolutely starving. Eat. Eat. 

He dragged himself out of bed, frowning as he saw the folded up suicide note on the side table by his bed. Had he survived? Well, that would explain the shit feeling. Fuck, it felt like his body was rejecting every inch of his skin. 

How the actual fuck had he even survived? He looked down at his hands, frowning at the pale ashy tint to his skin, almost as if a grey tint had been poured over it. Gross. He needed a shower. So, he headed in that direction, stepping into the bathroom and stripping himself of his clothing. 

He turned the water as hot as it could go, barely even feeling the way it scalded his skin. Really? He just felt disappointed. He’d really hoped this was the one. He’d really hoped he was done. 

There was always later, he supposed, but he’d really been hoping it was now. 

He scratched so hard into his skin it was deep red and then when he decided he was satisfied, he got out, dried off, and then pulled clothes back on. 

He took the note and shoved it in the nightstand, the other ones in it just laughing at him. One of you will be used one day, he was sure. 

One day. 

Rodolfo was unsurprised at how tired he was. He’d taken an entire bottle of benadryl, being exhausted was expected, honestly. But, this was almost excessive. He rubbed at his eyes and just shrugged it off, deciding to worry about it, later. 

Rodolfo looked at the empty bottle of benadryl and made a face. He’d taken an entire giant bottle. It’d been unopened, too, and 600 tablets at 25 milligrams each… 15,000. Fifteen thousand. He’d taken 15,000 milligrams of benadryl, which was literally just diphenhydramine with an antihistamine. 

1.5 grams of diphenhydramine was potentially lethal. You could survive it but… it was still potentially lethal. Rodolfo had taken 15 grams of benadryl. He counted on his fingers to do the math, too tired to be bothered with doing mental math. 1.5, 3, 4.5… That was ten times the potentially lethal dose of Benadryl. 

How the actual fuck was he alive? And honestly, despite feeling like he’d only slept for an hour after being awake three days… He felt fine. He felt alive. He touched his wrist, feeling his heartbeat. 

His attention was torn towards the door as he heard footsteps approach and then a soft knocking. He frowned and carefully moved towards the door, opening it to see Alejandro was standing there. 

“Rudy,” Alejandro smiled and then frowned barely a moment later. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Rodolfo snorted and then reached up, touching his face. “What do you need?”

“It’s 11:00.” Alejandro raised an eyebrow. 

“It is?!” Rodolfo jerked his head to look at the clock, confirming that it was, in fact, 11:00. Rodolfo usually didn’t sleep that late. “Oh my god, I’m- Fuck, I didn’t realize.” He held his head and then shook it. “Give me a moment-”

“That’s fine, but you need to hurry. We’re supposed to head out. You missed Valeria being released, by the way.” Alejandro sighed, softly. 

Rodolfo quickly nodded and closed the door again before yanking on his hoodie and boots, lacing them up as fast as he could. Fuck, Alejandro was probably so pissed. He went and checked his face in the mirror, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes. He’d survived 15 grams of benadryl, that was probably to be expected, but damn. 

His stomach cramped and he winced. He’d eat after the mission. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too distracting…

He shook it off and turned, quickly leaving. 

-

“Rudy, are you sure you’re okay?” This was not an appropriate question to ask over the comms. Even still, his heart fluttered at the concern in Alejandro’s voice. “You’ve been acting off.”

Rodolfo held his gun tightly, trying hard to ignore the aching in his stomach. “I’m good, commander. I didn’t sleep well last night, but I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” Alejandro didn’t sound convinced but Rodolfo didn’t mind. He knew Alejandro wouldn’t question him too much on the subject. They used to have so many arguments because Alejandro would push Rodolfo too hard on issues he didn’t want to answer. 

Rodolfo shook his head, his eyelids feeling heavy. Fuck. Then, he felt nauseous. Oh, no, oh no. He tried to guide his team into the building they needed to be in, falling back and pretending to be holding the door. 

They were doing another raid, it was just a raid. Valeria was being released the next day, so they were doing their best to get done what they could, which had so far been nothing. However, a raid was a raid. Hard to go wrong with them. 

As soon as all of his men were through, he fell over and vomited immediately. He made a face at the little pink pills in his vomit, holding his stomach. His gun had fallen a small distance away. God, there was blood, too, making his actual vomit a similar color to the pills, though they were slightly too artificially pink. 

He gagged and then puked again, more of the pills coming up. “Fuck…” He rasped, his vision slightly blurry. He hated puking, he hated it so much. 

Fingers touched the side of his face and his anxiety spiked. If Alejandro saw the pills, he’d know what happened, immediately. He looked up, expecting to see Alejandro’s face, but instead he was greeted with a woman’s. Not Valeria but… if his eyes unfocused, he could have easily mistaken her for Valeria. 

“Aww… poor thing…” She cooed and then clicked her tongue. “You almost succeeded that time.” 

Her voice made his stomach clench and her touch made his skin crawl. She smelled wrong. Like… too much perfume. But she was beautiful. Not in a way that made Rodolfo want her but… in a way that made him unable to stare for too long. 

She touched more of his face and he couldn’t resist the urge anymore, hunching over and puking again. This time, it was mostly blood and she laughed at him. Of course she did. She’d done this. He didn’t know how but this was her fault. 

The woman cupped his face and made him look up at her, though his vision had blurred more and it was so hard to see her. Tears filled his eyes and he gagged again, his body trying to vomit, but there wasn’t anything else for him to puke up. “I don’t think this is quite what he wanted, but then again, I’m not getting anything in return for it.” She was cooing it, like she was talking to a small child. 

Despite how much he needed to throw up, again, he felt himself relaxing from her voice. “I… I…” He gagged and dry heaved, hunching back over. “Why??” He managed. 

“I don’t know. He asked, I answered.” She murmured and then she leaned forward, kissing Rodolfo’s forehead. “67 attempts. That’s impressive. You’re trying so hard… It’s okay, you were always destined to fail… You tried your best and that’s what matters.”

Tears rolled down Rodolfo’s face and he started to sob, though it mixed with gags and heaves. God, what was wrong with his body?! He didn’t have anything left to puke up!

“Even my little interferences wouldn’t have worked this time…” She sighed and Rodolfo sobbed, trying hard to keep his body from puking again. “So, I did something a bit more permanent.”

Rodolfo’s body finally stopped having the urge to throw up and he hunched forward again, squeezing his eyes shut. This was hell, this was unbelievably hell. “You’re probably so hungry…” 

Rodolfo was. He was so unbelievably hungry. His stomach was aching. Her voice was gentle as she spoke again. “Eat, my love… When the opportunity comes… just give into it. Gorge yourself… It’s okay… you have my permission…”

Rodolfo sniffled and reached up, wiping at his mouth and looking at the blood on his fingers. She tsked and got out a cloth, gently cleaning his face. Rodolfo keened into the touch, closing his eyes as her cloth swiped over his skin. 

“Not quite clean. But I’ll accept that.” She murmured and then his eyes were opening again as she again cupped his face. “I have to go…”

Rodolfo shook his head, unsure why but he didn’t want her to. “Please don’t, please-”

“I’m sorry, love, but I have to.” She leaned forward and her ice cold lips pressed to his forehead. The action soothed him, completely, and he relaxed. “Goodbye.”

Then, she was gone, as if she’d never came. Rodolfo touched his face and it was clean, though the puddle of his own puke was still there. He got up on shaky legs, hardly able to comprehend what had just happened to him, but unsure he wanted to, anyway. 

Finally, he turned and rushed into the building, after his men. They were clearing out rooms, as they were supposed to so Rodolfo barked orders into the radio. “Clear and then get out!”

“Yes, sir!” Came back and Rodolfo relaxed. 

He helped to clear each room, but mostly he checked on everyone, which was his job regardless. “Commander Vargas, our building is cleared. I’m going to do a sweep and then I’ll reconvene.”

“Be on guard, Rodolfo.”

“I always am.” Rodolfo shook his head when Alejandro just laughed in response. Alright, maybe not. But, he would be, this time. 

The hunger in his stomach was getting harder and harder to ignore, but ignore it, he did. He didn’t need to eat, right now, he needed to clear these rooms. Carefully, he checked in each one of them, pointing his gun, first. 

When he got to the end of a hall, he stopped at a smell. Human, he could immediately tell, but… god, it smelled fantastic. Like asada when he and Alejandro would have the Vaqueros at the ranch. Alejandro was so good at making asada and the smell of it cooking was practically mouth watering. 

Fuck that, it was mouthwatering. Rodolfo was usually the one to cook, but the one thing he left for Alejandro was the asada. 

That sensation came back to Rodolfo and he just melted, breathing in the scent. God, he was starving… He could smell blood and he was so unbelievably hungry. He closed his eyes as he reached the door, stumbling a bit. 

He was so hungry… God, he was so hungry. He was starving, he was so unbelievably hungry. The idea of having a steak and just ripping into it with his teeth was so unbelievably fantastic to him. He could perfectly visualize the sensation. 

He put his hand on the door handle before pushing open the door, the mouth watering scent of meat and blood hitting him full force. He stumbled into the room, breathing hard from just how hungry he was. He remembered a time he’d gotten stuck in the woods and how unbelievably hungry he’d been. 

He had found a dead deer and he remembered being so hungry that he’d just sank his teeth into the meat once it was roasted, even though it was rotten. 

He looked around, smelling the blood coming from a closet, where he saw a pool forming. God, he was so hungry. Eat, my love… You have my permission… 

Rodolfo went to the pool of blood and crouched down, swiping up some of it with his fingers and then he licked the blood off of them, melting. Oh, this was fantastic… Ten times better than any asada Alejandro had ever made…

He stood and practically ripped the closet door open, before his head was swinging back at the sound of a gunshot. 

He gasped, now staring up at the ceiling. His sight didn’t see… couldn’t make his brain move… no way to control his control… 

Focus, unfocus… what was going on? Fuck. He jerked his head back upright, hitting the back of his head and a bullet popped out of the front. He reached up and touched his forehead where he could feel a giant chunk of his skull was missing, though it was already being reformed. 

He blinked and looked down at the bullet in his head, able to see the pink squishy brain matter still attached to it. 

“Oh my god, what the fuck?!” Rodolfo’s head jerked in the direction of the man that was speaking. His button down shirt was soaked in blood and Rodolfo’s mouth was watering again. 

Rodolfo didn’t even bother to give him a response, he was starving. He needed to eat, he needed to eat now. The woman had given him permission and he was taking it. He dropped down and yanked the man’s legs down, half straddling him. 

“Get away from me, you freak!” He screamed and tried to shove Rodolfo off, but Rodolfo just slammed his arms down and put his boots on his wrists. He writhed and continued to scream but Rodolfo ignored him, taking deep breaths. 

“This is going to hurt,” Rodolfo murmured before pressing his fingers between the buttons of the man’s shirt and then digging them in, deeper than his shirt, deeper than his skin. He ignored his screaming and hooked his fingers under the ribs, one hand hooking under the sternum, and he ripped his chest open. 

Buttons flew everywhere and he screamed so loud Rodolfo almost worried someone would hear, but he didn’t care. He was starving. 

He thrust his hand into his chest, digging around until he wrapped his hand around the thrumming beating delicacy he was damn near desperate for. He ripped it out of the man’s chest, his screams turning to gasps that slowed to a stop. Finally, he was shutting the fuck up. 

Rodolfo didn’t even hesitate to sink his teeth into the organ, ripping a chunk out of it. It was fantastic… bloody and squishy and so fucking delicious and he needed more. He continued to bite chunks out of it, hardly stopping to chew before he was swallowing them down, reveling in the sensation of blood running down his throat. 

God, Rodolfo had never in his life actually eaten. He had never truly eaten until this moment, this was fantastic! He wanted more, he needed more, he was still starving!

He ripped flesh from the man’s body, just consuming and ripping it to pieces with his teeth. Blood dripped down his face and he licked what remained on his fingers and he just continued to consume and eat and tear and eat until finally…

He was sated. Full.

Even then, he still licked the blood from his fingers, moaning from how sweet it was. The iron was an amazing taste and he wanted to melt into it, drink until he was throwing it back up. It was practically intoxicating. 

No, it was intoxicating and he was glad to be intoxicated. This was so much better than any tequila or wine he’d ever drank before, it made his stomach warm and his head fuzzy, but it was amazing and he wanted to live in the feeling. 

He touched his forehead, feeling that his skull was fully reformed, he didn’t even feel a scar. Then, he looked around and fully realized what was going on.

He stood, immediately, stumbling back and staring at his hands. Oh god, he’d eaten someone, he’d… he’d eaten someone… Oh god, oh god, oh god.

His radio was making noise and he turned his focus to it. “Rodolfo! Where the fuck are you?!”

“Coming, commander!” Rodolfo quickly said, wiping at his face. He used a cloth to get what he could from his chin so it didn’t look like he’d eaten anything and then swished water from his canteen around in his mouth before spitting it. 

He stared at the body, which was almost unrecognizable, and tried not to start screaming, the images of him just ripping into it and stuffing the flesh down his throat coming back. Oh god… He hunched over, feeling sick again. 

No, no, he didn’t have time for that, Alejandro was going to lose his shit. He quickly turned and left, running out and finding Alejandro.

[multilevelwriter-blog]

A demon king will die but not his ideals

Ketsueki: The oldest triplet

Shi: The middle triplet

Kiba: The youngest triplet

Ketsueki sighs as their hands are hidden behind their back. They glare down at the human in front of them, "I thought I asked you to bring me a blue spiderlily?" They pouted and the human apologized, "I'm sorry darling, I just couldn't find one... I mean it's almost like-..." The human didn't even get to finish his sentence when Shi sliced his head off with little remorse. "Stop playing with your food," Shi huffed as they licked the blood from her hands. "If you won't finish off the boy toy I wouldn't mind," Shi grins as they look at Ketsueki, "Don't even think about it you imbecile," They huff as they walk over to the severed head. The neck poured blood as the eyes of the human's head moved for just a few seconds more before seeing the inside of Ketsueki's throat. "Kiba better have produced results or we'll have to deal with this issue quicker than expected." "Oh don't worry your pretty little head, Kets. You're pretty enough to get another gullible human to drool over the prospect of earning you, they're not that hard to impress anyways." Shi grins as she walks to her sibling, "Plus Kiba's still out doing work in the north, the mountains need to be checked and they're perfect for the job."

It is quite surprising to think that the king of demons was able to produce not just one or two, but three children. Ketsueki, the eldest of the three, has inherited more of Muzan's looks but has Kokushibo's personality and aura. Shi, the middle child, has inherited more of Kokushibo's looks, yet possesses the menacing air of Muzan to an almost eerie perfection. Lastly, Kiba, the youngest of the three, is an almost perfect combination of the two demons, but their aura is difficult to place, almost as if it is nonexistent except for in battle.

[immren]

The love you have for your own character is so cute lol

everyone should be the biggest fans of their own ocs always all the time 🖤