tomboy-disaster

[tomboy-disaster]

demons fall for an innocent farm girl .ᐟ

You didn’t mean to charm a demon. Let alone a pack of them.

You were just a farm girl. Wake with the dawn, fetch the eggs, feed the goats, sweat in the field ‘til your hands were raw. You weren’t a mage. Weren’t cursed. You’d never stepped foot in a temple or pissed on some ancient ruin. You just smiled too much. You laughed at things that shouldn’t be funny. You had hay in your hair and freckles on your cheeks and the softness of someone who didn’t know better than to look a devil in the eyes and giggle.

They’d started showing up at night.

At first, you thought it was shadows. A cold wind. A feeling under your skin that made you tug the blankets tighter. Then it was whispers—deep and velvet-thick, crawling through the cracks of your dreams.

“Sweet thing…” “Soft little body, all alone…” “We’ll take such good care of you…”

You’d wake wet. Ache in your belly. Clutching your pillow, thighs sticky with the kind of dream you were too embarrassed to even think about once the sun rose.

The worst part? You thought it was just you.

Too many nights alone. Not enough good men in town. Your imagination running wild. You’d laugh it off in the morning, red in the face, hauling water from the well like it hadn’t felt real—like you hadn’t heard teeth at your throat and claws on your hips and voices growling your name in unison.

Then you started seeing them.

Always on the edge of the woods. Always when you were alone. Not full form—just flashes. Long horns. Smoke-thick eyes. Black claws curling around tree bark. And the heat.

Gods, the heat.

You’d feel it first. Out of nowhere. Mid-chore, bent over the trough, skirt damp with well water, and suddenly your skin would flush hot and tight, like something had licked up the back of your thighs.

Then you'd turn—and nothing. Just trees. Just wind.

One time, you laughed aloud. “Y’all’re just makin’ fun of me,” you said to the shadows, cheeks red as apples. “Silly little dreams, that’s all.”

You didn’t see the way the trees twitched. How the air thickened. How claws curled deeper into the dirt in restraint.

But you heard the laugh.

Low. Deep. Shuddering. Right behind your ear.

That night, they didn’t let you sleep.

You laid in bed, eyes fluttering shut—and fell. Not into dreams, but into a place beneath them.

A world thick with smoke and velvet. A bed not yours—massive, draped in dark silk, soaked with warmth. And they were there.

All of them.

Three at least. Maybe more. Hard to count with their hands everywhere.

One kissed your neck, tongue dragging slowly up to your jaw as another knelt between your thighs, spreading them with claws so sharp they tore your nightgown like paper. The third one stroked your cheek with fingers that felt too hot for flesh.

They didn’t ask.

They didn’t need to.

Your dream-body was already writhing, already soaked, gasping into the dark as one thick cock pressed against your cunt, hot and leaking, while another brushed your lips, wetting them before sliding in slow.

They took turns.

Fucking you deep, slow, wet—growling praise into your ear, clawing at your hips, choking you just enough to make you moan louder.

“You don’t even know, do you?” one murmured, balls slapping wetly against your ass. “You’re ours. You always were.” “You’ll see. We’ll drag you under. Make you a queen. Breed you full ‘til you’re heavy with demonspawn and smiling.”

And god, it felt so good.

Too good.

You came over and over, body lifted and tossed like a toy between them. One knotted you—deep, pulsing, locked so tight your stomach swelled from the heat of his cum. Another came on your belly, licking it off with a pointed tongue. Another filled your throat ‘til your eyes rolled back.

When you woke?

Sunlight. Birds.

You were in your bed. Your nightgown—torn. Thighs sore. Pussy leaking. You sat up, dazed and aching, blinking at the dust in the air.

“…That was some dream,” you mumbled, face hot.

You didn’t see the claw mark burned into the wood above your headboard.

You didn’t hear the whisper that slipped beneath your door, soft as breath:

“Soon, sweet thing. We’re coming back.”

[tomboy-disaster]

JASON MOMOA Chief Of War

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can’t emphasize enough how when you grew up in a toxic environment, being in the room with someone who’s angry or frustrated - even if it has nothing to do with you - is absolutely terrifying cuz you’ve been 1000% conditioned to assume frustration = all hell is going to break lose and be aimed directly at you

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MATING CALL

Sculpture by Edmund Haakonson

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Forgives No One Just Yet, painting by Dory Whynot on Instagram

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"Wah, why aren't fandoms fun anymore?"

Because you keep policing people's headcanons, making fun of them and calling them horrible things, and on top of that, you're somehow claiming to be a safe space for people to express their creativity, yet turning around and harassing them anyways because you've made a billion exceptions to the "don't police people" rule and you think, like everyone else who's made their own exceptions, that your exceptions justify harassment.

So you're making fandom into a field of rat traps where nobody even dares interact with anyone, or shares art anymore, because you still might just attack them for it because they did something as simple as writing a canonically soft character as... a softie.

Let people do their "cringe" y/a romances, let people do their "gross" ships, let people write those characters as jerks or softies. Let them, and mean it when you say you'll let them, instead of soapboxing about it in a patronizing post but not really meaning what you're soapboxing about.

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Three Black Cats, Carl Kahler

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I’m functioning. But like… in a haunted house kind of way.

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getting approached by an animal that wants you to pet them is such a magical feeling. like they saw you and went "yeah there's love in there"

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They should make a content label for ai posts like they do for mature content so I dont ever have to fucking look at it

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‘We need more loud, unashamed queers’ yes but some of you can’t even seem to handle a bisexual woman liking men.

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I can't reblog the post that inspired me, but I can still post the image I had in my head reading it hehe

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Happy solstice 🙏 may something ancient, wicked and monstrous take a romantic interest in you today 🙏

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love when a mother asks if they have ever done anything to hurt you. ma'am, you will literally never be ready to have this conversation

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NEVER GIVE UP