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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 8 days

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EVERY DOG HAS ITS DAY

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - You’re house sitting your friend’s whilst her family vacates. Her dog manages to get you into a dangerous situation.

Warnings - Noncon, dubcon, stalking, groping, humping, f! touching, animal abuse?

Word count - 2.2k

Notes - Jackson, oh Jackson. How your toxic soul has my weak heart. @paradiseprincesss hope you’re hungry !!

“Calm down Spike!” You exclaimed as you were yanked down the pavements with an overstimulated boxer charging on the other end of the leash.

What was meant to be a simple daily walk had turned into an endless brutal game of tug and war which you were pathetically losing. The rope around your wrist will leave a permanent mark if this animal doesn’t lead you to a fatal encounter by how dangerously you were crossing the roads.

Firstly Spike’s eyes were set on a pigeon, then when the harmless bird flew off into the clouds, Spike’s mind and impulses were full steam ahead. How long had it been, a mere few minutes or almost a third of an hour? If you knew he’d be such a nuisance you would have convinced your father to walk him, or even stretched beforehand.

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, and you believe it almost did. It all happened so quickly, you yanked back the leash with all of your strength which made Spike halt at the intersection of two suburbian streets as you fell onto your behind. The black Mercedes Benz slammed on the brakes, the tyres screeched as the bumper stopped shorter a footlong to your face.

All sound was muffled to your eyes as all you could hear were your thoughts. The driver kept his hand on the horn, his jaw clenched as his blue eyes bore into your soul. Spike barked at him viciously, his paws locked into place as if he was prepared for battle. When you realized the man had no intention of releasing his heavy palm, your eyes darted around the empty streets and you hobbled up and had to beg Spike to calm down whilst tugging him away. Awkwardly you waved your hand in apologies as you tried to steer Spike back to his home.

However, you quickly noticed that the same car rolled behind you, he was tailing you and it made your heart pound in your chest. Every time you looked back, his eyes were locked onto you, his brunette hair parted to either side of his forehead. Spike took no notice in this, his attention elsewhere now.

When you ended up having to cut through a small field in between to homes to get to the opposing side of the suburb, you desperately tried to get Spike to run again to force you to run as fast as you could. But he strolled away gradually, breathing heavily with his mouth hung.

Every few seconds, your head shot back to ease your anxieties of the Benz finding you again. For a moment, you feared you had lost your way. You were housesitting your best friend’s house whilst her family was vacating interstate.

When you noticed the familiar double story home, you hurried inside, giving one last look before you shut the door. Spike plotted down the hall and you breathed out deeply, your back pressed against the wooden door. Just to ease your anxieties, you poked your head out of the window, confirming the empty road.

As the sun slowly set, you sat in the guest bedroom, your coursebooks in hand as you had Mozart gently playing on your laptop. You breathed out, your pen tapped on the paper as you read through your essay draft.

Spike started barking again and you grunted out as you slammed your laptop shut. This dog will be the death of you. As you jumped up from your seat, you headed towards the alfresco when your movements paused after you heard Spike cry out.

Within a snap, his noises had silenced. It was too quickly to be considered normal and you felt your heart rate begin to pick up again as the fear washed over you. In nothing but your pajama shorts and tank, you slowly tiptoed towards the massive window sliding doors. The back light was turned off, which you remember keeping on. You could hardly see out there, as your finger rested on the switch you gulped as you flicked it on.

Spike laid unconscious on the deck. A heavy gasp left your lips as you lunged towards the sliding door but you froze in your steps as you saw him in the corner of your eye. He sat at the outdoor dining table, a cigarette in between his lips. Quickly you recognised him, the driver from earlier today. He looked to be in the same suit as earlier today, he leant back in the chair as he casually waved towards you.

Just when you were going to bolt for the home phone, he pulled out a clean knife from his jacket as if he already knew your next move. It almost sparkled and the stranger pointed it at Spike, a mere few meters away from him. Frozen in your feet, your body wobbling like jelly as you looked back at Spike. Your eyes searched for a pool of blood, a slight sensation of relief as you couldn’t spot it.

When you dared to look at him again, he stood from the chair and inhaled deeply before flicking the dart towards Spike. The man approached the door and tapped on the glass with the tip of the blade. Naturally, you sobbed out as he tilted his head towards you.

“I’m not going to hurt you” he assured, the blade vanishing back into his jacket as if to ease your distress. “Unless you don’t unlock the fucking door” he grinned to you, his hand propped against the glass over his head.

Your eyes were darting from him to Spike like a table hockey puck in play. As you cried, you begged for Spike to get up and run away. But to your stress, he continued to lay still.

“Come on baby doll, it’s cold out here” he said smugly as he rubbed his shoulders dramatically.

As your hand rested on the lock you tried to make sense of the situation. Were you really going to let this dog be the death of you? Or was this frightening stranger true to his word about not hurting you. An unrealistic idea came to mind as you forced yourself to unlock the door.

He wasted no time in pushing open the door and stepped inside. Typically you took three steps back. As he closed the door and locked it, he slowly looked back over to you.

“You know, your parents should have taught you better about road safety” he grinned as he took a step towards you.

In a flash, you bolted for the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife in the block. He laughed as he approached you and pulled his much smaller yet much sharper knife back out of his jacket. You pointed your knife at him sternly as he backed you into a corner. Whilst staring at you blankly, the blade spun and flipped in his hand elegantly. It made your hold shake, there’s no way you’d win this.

“What do you want from me!” You mewled out as you found your body slowly slipping back against the cupboard doors. He didn’t answer you as he intimately stepped to you. “Please don’t hurt me!” You begged for mercy.

The knife slipped from your hold and it clanked onto the floor. Quickly, your body curled up into a ball as you rocked yourself. You sobbed viciously as your heart pounded all the way up to your head.

“Don’t give me a reason to baby doll” he cooed as he squatted in front of you after kicking the kitchen knife away. You buried your face into your forearm and his cold hand petted your soft hair. “Look at me” he ordered kindly.

Fearfully you peaked back up to him. He held his hand out, his knife had vanished once more. You blinked as you stared at him up close. You didn’t realize how charming on the eye he was, it made you gulp harshly. “Please… My parents are going to be home any minute” you lied pathetically, sniffling heavily.

“Baby doll” he tutted as he gently shook his head towards you. “This isn’t even your fucking house” he laughed, casually pointing his finger to one of your friend’s family portrait on the wall. “Now come on, no more tears… Only little girls cry, I want you to be a big girl for me tonight” he condescended as he gestured for you to grab ahold of his hand.

“What do you want?” you asked weakly as you grabbed ahold of his hand.

“To talk” he nodded as he lifted you up. He petted your hair to the side and smiled softly to you. “Well, for a little bit anyways” he added, a gentle shrug of the shoulders.

Your eyebrows furrowed but you didn’t question him as he led you to the lounge room. Your gaze landed back on Spike, who was perfectly still just as before and you found yourself weeping again. He wrapped his arms around you from behind as he shushed into your ear.

“Relax, relax, a simple sedative… I hope I got the dosage right, I usually sedate people, not dogs” he whispered into your ear, smirking to himself as you weakly resisted against him as you whimpered out.

Your head shot down, the guilt of Spike being too much for your conscience. He guided you to the couch and pulled you onto his lap. Your body squirmed on top of his, but he kept you locked in.

“What are you doing?” you whined.

But he only hushed you and thrusted his hips up. Instantly, you felt his growing erection underneath you and you froze on him.

“You gave me a massive fright today, you know that?” He sighed, his hands on your hips as he rotated them in a circular motion.

Your body shivered as you felt your teeth chatter. “I’m sorry… I tried to control him” you explained through heavy breathing.

“Yeah I know. A little too strong for you, aye?” He chuckled, his hands squeezing your hips harshly. You nodded your head quickly as you tried to focus your mind elsewhere, but it was pointless by the way he was rubbing his cock against your core. “But then, you know… You just looked so sweet and fragile that I just wanted to make sure you got home safe…” he admitted as one hand ran up your spine.

“You took an interesting short cut. I thought I wasn’t going to be able to find you. But then, I saw you in the distance, running up the driveway” he laughed softly as he hand slid to your breasts.

You gasped out as both hands kneaded them before they slipped underneath your thin tank. His fingers rubbed circles over your nipples and your head fell back next to his and you tried to silence your clear as daylight arousal.

“No bra? Naughty girl” he groaned by your ear, his tongue slithered around your earlobe.

After a moment of groping you, his hands slipped down from your torso as you trembled on him, based on a horrific mixture of fear and desire.

“I want to apologize” he suddenly professed.

“What?” You panted.

“For scaring you. I’ll admit, I lost my temper a little bit… You just scared me so bad, baby doll. How would I have felt if I didn’t brake in time?” He explained himself, his smooth jaw nuzzled against yours.

But during this confession, his hand slipped into your shorts, right into your panties as he stroked your wet pussy.

“I’m sorry for scaring you too!” You cried out, your heart thudding against your ribs as you found yourself rocking your hips.

“No, no… You don’t have to tell me how sorry you are, you just have to show it” he moaned, a smug look on his face as a digit easily slipped inside of you. “We can do it wherever you want to, baby doll… Here, in the kitchen, we can get into my car if you really want and I can take you for a ride. It’s an expensive car” he grinned as he forcefully flexed his hips up making you cry out. “But if you want me to make it special for you, take me a bed, any bed. I’m not picky…” he exhaled as his free hand moved back up to your tits.

“No, please!” You objected, logic dripping out of your aroused state. You were willingly grinding yourself on a stranger, an intruder, a man much older than you. You were in your senior year of high school for crying out loud. It forced you to try to free yourself from him. It only made him laugh and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he pressed his nose to the side of your heated face.

“Baby doll… Look at yourself, you’re trying to fuck my hand right now” he pointed out.

All you could do was sob out in humiliation as his fingers pumped inside of you. Your ass rubbed against his hard on whilst he kissed your bare neck.

“My name is Jackson by the way” he introduced himself, a satisfied grin on his lips. You told him your name through a heavy gasp as his fingers went knuckle deep inside of you. “I already knew that” he whispered into your ear as he felt your walls clench tightly around his hand

Every dog has its day, but unfortunately for you, today was not that day.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #dark smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner #red eye 2005

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vagabond-umlaut · 8 months

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Sojourn In The Sun

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Arranged Marriage; Childhood Friendship To Complicated Feelings™️; Fluff; Angst; Canon-Compliant; Contains Manga Spoiler; Satoru & Reader Are So Cute, So Honest And So Kind-Of-Happy With Each Other Here– I Love Them!; Silly Jokes Are Their [& My] Coping Mechanism; Takes Place Between JJK 221 & 236.

Oneshot From Series: One Day, Three Autumns

"You. Baked. This. For. Me."

"No, Satoru. A stork flew in through ths kitchen window and dropped this bloody cake on that table."

"But don't they deliver babies or something? Plus, isn't that window a tad too tiny for such a big bird?"

"I guess, the stork must've dropped you on your head while delivering you to your parents, you know?"

A beat passes in response to your remark, before Satoru erupts into a fit of chortles and you shake your head with a huffed chuckle. Getting up from where you were hunched over the countertop, nibbling on an omelette and scrolling through your mobile, Satoru watches your face gleam in fondness in the late morning light, as you amble over to him.

Very messy hair. Ratty old clothes. Sleepy yet shiny eyes— His cheeks hurt from the sheer joy bubbling in his chest at this sight before him.

"Seriously, sweetness? Storks?" he asks, lifting his arm then dropping it to wrap round your shoulders as you reach him and snuggle into his side – only to catch hold of the hem of his huge sweater, and squeeze yourself into it, your tiny fingers clasping round his back as your head emerges at the top and you move to nuzzle into his neck, teeth biting cute little nips on the skin there.

If it was even two months back, Satoru reckons he would have been a hell lot stunned, seeing you give your affections so blatantly– that too at a place outside your shared bed, outside the darkness of the night.

But... It no longer is two months back. It is now. Not only in day, date, time. But also in the irreversibly mutated fashion the earth rotates on its axis everyday in the man's eyes. New experiences. New allies. New absences. New nightmares...— Everything's different from how it was before that chilly October night— Your husband deems it to be not an awful lot strange to see you too like this. The world is not the same as before; to survive, you too must change to adapt to the change, must you not?

Lips brushing your forehead once before dashing away, he asks in a soft yet humorous tone, "Too tired to give a reply, are we now, huh?"

"Not really," you hum, your words punctuated by a yawn you're quick to suppress; you resume, "I know only two birds which are said to be used in sending parcels and stuff. One, messenger pigeon– but they are too small to carry a cake like that. Two, stork– stories do say they were used to deliver babies – so I thought delivering a cake would be a piece of cake for them, heh!" You shoot him a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners into lovely half-moons, "Pretty funny and punny, ain't I?"

"Of course, sweetness. You are all three," Satoru is quick to agree with a nod— happy wife = happy life; plus, it's not like he's lying to you— A shadow of confusion falls on your face— Deciding to deal with it later, for the sake of the question weighing on his mind at the moment, the man repeats his ask from earlier, "You really really baked this for me?"

You return a nod, hints of a smile lurking in the shape of your lips.

"But why?"

Whatever happiness might've beginning to bloom on your features, it withers away– Your husband smacks himself internally for employing such a tone: So weak, so much so that it makes you peer up at him in concern he has only ever seen on you after a particularly bad mission.

So weak, so that it makes him hope you don't think him to be any less than 'The Strongest'— any less than being capable of standing beside you, protecting you, being worthy of you.

A pair of chapped lips plant themselves on his cheek. "Just because I wanted to bake a cake for you, 'Toru!" you explain with a giggle, albeit its subdued quality doesn't go past his eye, as you move a bit away to press a swift kiss on his other cheek; fingers drawing lazy patterns on his scalp and massaging the roots of his hair.

"You've always done too much for me and everyone else– Thought of returning the favour once, although I doubt it can ever match yours... Also, haven't you always wanted to eat a cake baked by yours truly?"

He has.

He so, so has.

Ever since the day you baked some muffins for him in the microwave oven of the school kitchen– him, a grumbling mess thanks to his all-too-familiar migraine and those old geezers– you, another grumbling mess thanks to your all-too-familiar insomnia and those annoying AF exams—

Satoru never imagined he could taste a sweet dish made by you ever again in his life, for the past ten years or so— given how the morning after that night you declared you would never bake again: "uff, that is too fuckin' tiring and boring!" and how every next time he came with a migraine to your door, you pointedly ignored his whining for you to bake him something, choosing to grab the warm and cold compress instead and give him a massage, following the manuals kept in stack-over-stack on your table—

Even during his teenage years, then later as an adult, the sorcerer has always missed your baking, but seeing you care for him in ways much too characteristically 'you'... he decided to pay no mind to such dumb wishes, he knows you'll never fulfill in this lifetime.

Except now you've fulfilled them and your husband doesn't know any response fitting enough to thank your efforts and thoughts through.

Throwing the cake a sideways glance, he brings his focus back to you gazing at him, to the eagerness reflecting in your irises. His lips tilt up into a smile, obeying a mind of their own.

"Blue velvet cake with white frosting... you sure do know how to make me happy, don't you, sweetness?" he muses out loud, carefully noting the warmth creeping up your neck into your cheeks and ears, "But, so much for a thanks... there must be another reason behind this, right?"

Feeling the tiny burst of air hitting him from your quiet exhale, Satoru lets you maneuver him towards the kitchen until he's leaning with his back against the marble island and you're nestling even closer to him.

A palm glides cautiously over the planes of his back.

Almost as if the man in front of you is a glass figurine–

Almost as if you're fine with him being a glass figurine.

So easy to read.

So easy to hurt.

So easy to care for with the gentlest of touches and softest of smiles, the look in your eyes tells every one of his six eyes– the innumerable chips and cracks in his very essence be damned—

You poke his cheek, a knowing twitch in your lips.

"You rarely ever cuddled me in bed before, yet now, every single night and day, I find you squeezing me with those arms and legs of yours..." Satoru's eyes widen. Your lips part in a fondly teasing grin. "Think why – really why– you hug me for warmth and don't hog the blankets; and you'll have your answer, 'Toru."

Birds shriek outside. Your mobile beeps thrice. Your omelette goes as frozen as poor Uranus on the countertop beside.

For the second time this cold day, the two of you break into laughter.

"And you'll have your answer, 'Toru!?!?" Satoru mimics you except in a soprano-esque shrill voice. "Who the fuck do you think we are, huh? A pair of lovers in some Shakespeare-y play, baring our feelings to each other in the soft glow of the winter sun, or some stupid shit like that?"

Another chuckle breaks free from your chest at his words; the grin on his face widening, he watches you take a long breath then say, "Nope nope nope! The both of us are way too uncivilised to play any role like in Shakespeare's plays — but Satoru~" you drawl your vowels out; his heart beats a little faster in his chest– "I can never be as unrefined as you, going as far as to keep your wife waiting, while you ask question after question– and not eat the cake and praise it, like a good spouse should, you know?"

"Oh, is it so?" The man inquires, brow raised, before warping with you in his arms to where the cake's kept, and cutting a big chunk with the knife kept, gobbles it all up in one go.

The tilt of your lips betrays the disapproving click your tongue makes.

A very content hum escapes Satoru. "Your baking's something out of this world–no, galaxy, sweetness. I hope you know–"

He stills, focus stolen by the letters and number a bit far on the table–

Satoru's gaze snaps back to you, only to find the same smile on your face– so simple, so devious– complicated and thwarted by the small expressive tremor of your lips; your gaze moving away from him to a calendar on your left and his right, the very same which stopped him—

Grasping your chin in his frosting-covered fingers, he drags your gaze back to himself, tutting, "You aren't any better than me, wifey. You too lack the same manners and etiquettes I do— So, now— c'mon, c'mon, c'mon–" he says, not unlike a broken record, playing the same section of music until he makes you cave in from the annoyance alone, "Wish your darling husband 'Happy Birthday 'Toru!!', give him a big birthday smooch, and be the courteous wife, you aren't really, but think you're— Now, go ahead, go ahead, go–"

"No."

"No?" Satoru echoes, holding back a weary chuckle. Or sigh. The man doesn't know which. You nod with that same stubborn determination of yours, he has happened to love-hate-tolerate over the years. "Yeah. No. I don't wanna. Wishing you can only solidify the fact that today is December 7th–"

"I think, the clock striking twelve few hours back solidified it–"

"Which will go on to cement the fact we're only 17 days away–"

"I don't think the fact needs any cementing. It's cast in stone–"

"Is there no way we can be happy, Satoru?"

Your question startles him into a momentary stun – not 'cause of the solemnity packed into every word of it – but because it serves as the mirror image to the question them cursed voices in his brain ask him in the warmth of the day, in the chill of the night, when he finds Yuuji sitting by himself with no spiky black hair nor bright orange hair next to him; when he catches the ashtray on Shoko's table filled with way too many cigarette stubs; when he wakes up to see you sitting in the dimly lit storeroom, a faded photograph or a childish drawing in your hand; when he looks at the mirror and finds the reason behind every pain his cherished ones have suffered, staring right back at him—

"There is," Satoru says, willing his mind to shut up for once, to let him say what he wants to say for once– the clock is ticking a bit too fast–

"Don't think of today as anything more than that it's December 7. Not how many days it's been since Halloween. Not how many days it'll be before it's Christmas Eve. Just focus on the fact it's my birthday, and everything will seem a hell lot better, even if it's only for a short time."

You peer at him attentively, before narrowing your eyes a bit. "Never took you as the kind to ignore reality, y'know?"

Your husband cracks an amused grin. "Still, standing in the middle of a warzone and actively ignoring it is cooler than running away from it, isn't it?"

"Cooler and dumber," you correct with a teasing grin and a waggle of your finger– however, before he can gather any retort to your remark, he finds himself being pulled down by his collar, his lips colliding with your waiting ones— the ensuing kiss a little sweet, a little spicy, a little shy, a little hungry; but overall, very, very addicting. Satoru thinks you can never give him kisses enough to satiate him, even for a tiny while.

He is always going to stay this ravenous, this yearning for you. In this lifetime and every other that follows. He can't ever get enough of you.

A tiny pop! reverberates in the bubble round you two, as your mouth gently separates from his, though never strays anywhere far, resting only few millimetres away. Eyes drifting to his swollen lips for a beat, Satoru watches you look at him again, cheeks heated and stretched in a smile.

"Happy birthday, Satoru," you whisper, "Many, many happy returns of the day."

"Thanks," the man mumbles, running a careful thumb back-and-forth over your bottom lip– before something clicks to life in his mind. Your husband registers a slow smirk form on his face. "But I guess it'll be a happier birthday if ya promise to bake me a cake every now and then. What do you think, sweetness?"

"Nah!" your reply arrives, as if it's a reflex response and not one which requires some thinking, "Baking's too fuckin' tiring and boring– But..." you trail off for a beat, the nonchalance on your face morphing into a tenderness– You resume, "Why don't you try and find out by yourself if I will ever decide to bake a cake for you, every now and then, yeah?"

The weight of your words lingers in the gap in between for a second.

Accepting the weight with an eager grin, Satoru closes the gap, him inclining forwards to rest his forehead on yours.

"Sounds like a challenge, sweetness. Good thing, I'm more than ready to try my best to meet it."

I do not own the characters used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please do not plagiarize or translate or repost this. Hope you enjoyed reading this! 😊

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ccbunnv · 3 months

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Could you do a story with Bill meeting the readers (f) family for the first time? Like the reader is Baltic (preferebly Lithuanian) and she flew Bill to her home country for him to meet her family.

Its okay if you dont want to do it! But an early thanks if you do!💗 (Btw im in love with your writting like😍)

it's hard but i tried !

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 bill x fem! reader fluff

"you'll do fine, love." you reassured your boyfriend, who is currently pacing around the room in a nervous panic.

"but what if your family don't like me, schatz? what if I screw up and they pressure you to leave me for good?!" he stopped his steps and turned to face you, a frantic expression on his face.

"they won't, honey, I know my family." you chuckled, getting up and walking over to him to pat his back, "deep breaths."

he inhaled and exhaled several times, before mumbling, "you sure?"

"yes, I'm sure." you smiled, before leaving a quick, chaste kiss on his lips, "now come on, let's go otherwise we'll be late."

"alright." he smiled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the hotel room.

𓆩♱𓆪

it took you both a couple of minutes to reach your parents' house, but upon arrival, you could notice that it was rather lively inside. you turned to notice Bill standing by the car, trying to collect himself before he went in with you.

you approached him and brushed your hand against his shoulder, to which he responded with a smile. you kissed his forehead to soothe his nerves, and it helped just a little bit.

you stepped into the foyer, taking your heels off before entering the house. Bill followed suit, and placed his boots right next to yours.

it was a little gesture, but it was still cute to you.

you guided him into the kitchen and the minute you were greeted by your mother, heads turned and eyes fixated on the two of you. Bill gave them an awkward smile.

your aunts flocked to you, asking about your boyfriend.

"what's your name?"

"why do you look so skinny?"

"what do you work as?"

"why do you dress so funny?"

"any siblings?"

those were just the tip of the iceberg your family asked about him. as your family members surrounded him like a pigeon to a piece of stale bread, your mother pulled you aside.

"y/n, that's Bill?" she asked, judgingly.

"mom, you said you wouldn't." you responded with a huff.

"I know, but doesn't he look like a girl?" she continued, "why settle for him when there's so many others out there in the world?"

"mom, please," you grumbled, "I love him, okay? he's a great guy with a great heart and you just need to accept him."

"and he's so skinny, too. and look at how he dresses, are you sure he isn't gay?" she whispered, "y/n, I-"

"there's nothing wrong with being skinny, right?" you crossed your arms, "I think he dresses well, and I don't care if he's gay or not."

"dear, please, it's for your own good." she sighed, "a guy like him won't be able to sustain you for so long!"

"it's not that!" you said, irritated by your mother's judgemental personality, "I love him and end of story. you won't force me to break up with him."

"you'll know what I'm talking about in the future," she sighed, "in the mean time, give this plate to him."

she reached over and grabbed a plate full of food, and handed it to you. you walked over to Bill, who was now resting with the kids near the television and sat next to him.

"I overheard you and your mom arguing just now," he mumbled, "what's wrong?"

"she's just being judgy again." you grumbled.

"oh," he seemed to droop, before he asked, "was it about me?"

"yeah." you sighed, "but listen, okay? they'll come around, or maybe they'll never, but it won't seperate me from you."

you felt him ease up and before you knew it, he had placed a kiss on your cheek. he said softly, "I love you, you know that, right?"

"yeah, I do." you smiled, "I love you too."

𓆩♱𓆪

#tokio hotel #y2k #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #fluff #bill kaulitz fluff #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fanfic

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crowpropaganda · 6 months

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A short story for a crow I once knew.

When I met Scarface I’d never heard of Scarface. The movie I mean. The Scarface I knew had a jagged line running from neck to eye and liked screaming at parking lot pigeons.

In the afternoon he’d hang out near the back entrance of my job. One morning a woman was nearby, a hand holding her phone to her ear and the other gripping the stroller where a small child focused on kicking a tiny pink sandal off her foot. Scarface observed the scene like a troubled noir detective, muttering beneath his breath, pacing back and forth with his head cocked until coming to a decision. Glancing from mother to child, he shuffled quietly closer until he was able to pluck the dangling shoe and fling it with the force of his entire body into a nearby puddle. As the woman yelped he ran to my side as if I were a shield against the consequences of his own actions.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked him, but went inside before he could respond.

After work he was waiting for me and presumably began to explain himself. He waddled at my side for the full ten minute walk to my apartment, refusing to let me get a word in edgewise, cawing loudly, and stomping when I tried to interrupt with things like ‘who are you?’, 'please leave me alone’ and 'what a jerk’. When we reached my building I gestured at the door.

“I already live with someone.”

“Caw.”

“I don’t speak corvid, sorry, US educational system, amiright?”

“Caw.”

“I’m going to give you,” I checked my bag, “one peanut.”

The following week he flew away from an important discussion he was having with a seagull over french fries and an empty pringles container to peck my shoe. I turned out my pockets.

“I have nothing, sir.”

“Caw.”

“Scarface- can I call you Scarface-what’s the plan? Be an asshole until you die? It’s not sustainable. The pigeons are too dumb to hold a grudge and the seagulls will take advantage of that innocence to corner the whole parking lot. You’re burning bridges all across the plaza and I can’t protect you from the storm. Soon it’ll be song bird season and people will start to notice those gents never go around robbing toddlers. You’ve lost the plot.”

“Caw.”

“I understand, but Fall doesn’t last forever. The rain will stop and there will be no more puddles. Find somebirdy to love. Raise some kids. Get a life.”

When he built his nest he did it in the tree beside my patio. My girlfriend called me while I was out of town to say there were three crows on the balcony and the one with a scar kept looking past her and shouting, feathers unruffled when she waved a broom in his face.

“Put me on speaker.” She did. “I’ll be home on Monday, comrade, leave her alone and stop eating the basil.”

“…Holy shit it’s leaving.”

“His name is Scarface.”

She laughed. “Ha, like the movie?”

“What movie?”

#corvids #crows #short story #journaling #birds #scarface

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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year

Text

Shenanigans Part 8

Alternative Universe Part 3/3

New to the story? Start with Chapter 1!

Part 6-7-8 can be read without knowing the whole story, if you want to give it a go, click here!

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Part 8: The Menace and the case of the pajama party in the alternative universe. ( + extra Tododeku!)

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Warnings: swear words, drunk people (everyone is 25+ and responsible), drunk crying

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki might not have feelings when he’s sober, but he’s really weak to wine and champagne - with that said, get ready to an overly sensitive, fluffy Bakugou from the alternative universe.

Meanwhile, in the real world, the grumpy Bakugou Katsuki suffers - he can’t seem to understand his confusing feelings towards his biggest “enemy”.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

“Go to sleep, Kacchan.”

Honestly, the fuck is the nerd’s problem? Katsuki is on the couch. His eyes are closed. What the fuck else can he do?

“I would like to sleep, but your stupid fucking freckled face is distracting even with my eyes closed.” Katsuki snaps, his movements aggressive as he slaps his duvet around a bit for greater comfort.

Why is he on a random ass couch instead of his bedroom?

Because those two fuckers didn’t let him go home alone. Not even the mention of his poor starving pigeons made them change their mind. Sadistic assholes.

“Izuku’s freckled face has nothing to do with you hyperventilating on the couch.” Todoroki sighs. “She’s fine, Bakugou. She’s probably having a pajama party with a less mental version of you right now.”

Was that supposed to make him calm? And anyway… “Why the fuck are you here, Candy Cane?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t strangle Izuku in his sleep.” Comes the easy answer, and to be fair, he might do that if he gets sleep deprived enough.

“Go and share a bed with him him, just in case.” He grumbles back and closes his eyes again, hoping to have least 3 hours of sleep tonight, just to have some energy to scream Y/N’s face off properly when she dares to come back. That’s all.

“Good idea, thank you!” Perks up the half and half idiot, making Izuku squeak like a 10 year old virgin. Fucking idiot.

“I wish to sleep a-alone, thank you v-very much.” He stutters and leaves the living room; Todoroki goes after him like a kicked puppy who does not understand their owner’s anger, even tho they just shat on their carpet 5 minutes ago.

After a few minutes of loud commotion in Deku’s bedroom - the nerd is probably telling that dick off for not understanding human communication again - the flat falls silent; but Bakugou’s thoughts are still too loud to be able to sleep.

“Fuck this shit.” He grumbles and takes his phone out to type out a message.

The fact, that the message was sent at 3:30 AM does not matter. He’s just not tired yet.

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The pajama party is more like an interrogation on crack. You are attacked with questions from every side, barely able to answer them all, but all your anxiety flew away the moment Todoroki popped open his secret drink fridge filled with all the fancy alcohol he stole from his idiot father’s old liquor cabinet. “Well, it’s his fault he left them in my mom’s house. He’s not gonna come back for it.” He said nonchalantly, when seeing your massive saucer eyes when he popped open a super expensive champagne that costs more than your monthly wage.

You tell the guys about the world of quirks; you try to keep it simple and not too revealing, but Deku is about to pop a vein as his question wasn’t answered before, so you have to do something before the guy gets brain damaged.

They tell you all their funny stories from America, about their dreams and plans for the future; they are so pure and so lively, they make your heart melt. You also try your best to tell them about their current life in your world; you can’t really tell them much about Deku and Todoroki but the more you drink, the more you ramble about your annoying boss, about how much you hate his guts, about his daily assholery; by the end of the day you end up with your head on the dumbstruck blonde’s shoulder next to you.

By 3 AM, Deku and Todoroki are passed out on the massive bed in the funniest position ever; they literally fell asleep on top of each other, their bodies making a cross sign on the bed. Deku’s body is spread through Todoroki’s lap like a cat, his head hanging down from the side of the bed. It definitely doesn’t look comfortable, but they look content so you decide against waking them up.

The blonde next to you is also half asleep, but he looks kinda melancholic. To be fair, he did stop responding to your ramblings after a while, but you were too drunk to care.

“I’m sorry for talking shit about your other self.” You apologize as you make your way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “He’s really not that bad. He can be really caring, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” He snaps, then suddenly, he’s really interested in his own bedding by the way he stares at it. You swear his eyes look a little bit wet, but you might be hallucinating. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

He’s crying. Motherfucking murder whatever god Dynamight is fucking crying.

You definitely drank way too much. This can’t be real. “I’m frustrated, goddamit!” He cries out loudly, waking the other two up with his sudden hysterics. “There is this beautiful, intelligent, caring lady in that fucker’s life who tolerates him even though he doesn’t deserve it at all and he’s being an absolute ass about it.” He continues, silent tears falling on his red cheeks. “He has everything I always wanted yet he doesn’t give a shit about it, and that frustrates me.” He ends his rant while he covers himself with his duvet aggressively. You are not sure if you want to cry over the touching words or laugh at how adorable he is so you just end up staring at him from the other side of room where your bedding is.

“He’s a sensitive drunk, bless his little heart.” Mumbles the greenette and taps Bakugou’s head with his hanging hand. He passes out again right after.

“If I would be in his place…” he mumbles, still hidden under his duvet. “Actually… I will go to your fucking country and I won’t leave until I found you. I will make sure you are the happiest fucking woman in this world, I’ll force you to come with me to Japan if I need to. That’s what I’m gonna do. Yeah.”

The room falls silent. You are definitely crying now. Who is this man and how is he related to Bakugou Katsuki? You really want to get married to this random stranger in a random creepy chapel in the middle of the night.

“I’ll give you all my possible addresses then.” You murmur into your pillow with a smile on your face; it’s really silly to be jealous of your own self, but you can’t help it. You are really sad you won’t be able to see these people again; this weird trio made their way into your heart in less than 24 hours and to be absolutely honest with yourself, you really don’t want to go back to the real world.

You slowly drift off to slumberland in this safe and peaceful room, dreaming about a better world and a better life.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

Mr. Katsuki did NOT sleep last night.

Why, you ask?

Because sleep is for the weak.

No, it has nothing to do with the fact that his secretary is in another world, sad and lonely, probably frightened to death in the middle of night, sleeping on the street somewhere, freezing and hungry.

Mr. Katsuki does NOT care about the Menace.

He’s also not tired.

The bags under his eyes? They are Gucci. It’s a fashion choice. They make him look rough and manly, as Kirishima would say. They also help shutting up the extras, as they are too terrified to talk to him.

Everything is fine.

“Katsuki.” The half and half fuckface sighs. The fuck is his problem?! He haven’t said a single word. He’s calm and collected. “You’ve been staring at the concrete for 2 hours now. We still have a few more minutes.”

“I’m just making sure no one steps on the spot.” Mr. Katsuki answers, looking all professional. This is just another job on the field. No biggie. He’s just doing a good job.

“Kacchan, you made sure no one steps on that spot 2 hours ago.” Deku opens his mouth and Mr.Katsuki does not understand the problem here. Yes, he drew a big circle around the area saying “If you step here, you die.” But there might be someone around who’s visibly impaired, or just dumb in general. Or a foreigner who does not understand the world DIE! DIE! DIE! Written all over the area. Maybe, the message is not clear. You never know.

“Fuck off and let me do my job!” Mr. Katsuki snaps, his eyes still focused on the concrete in front him. He could probably remember every single crack on this concrete piece by now even without looking at it.

A few minutes later, something suddenly falls from the sky; Mr. Katsuki is too focused on the concrete to see it coming, hence why, the Menace arrives with a big thump.

Mr. Katsuki almost throws up from the way his heart suddenly drops for a second… wait, no. The only reason Mr. Katsuki feels sick is the smell of alcohol coming from the ground.

“I will never drink again.” Mumbles the idiot while rubbing her stupid forehead. And Mr. Katsuki looses his shit.

“You fucking asshole!” He screams, making the hungover Menace flinch. “I thought you fucking died!” He screams even louder. “Yet here you are, fucking hungover, while I couldn’t fucking sleep because of you!”

Y/N’s phone suddenly beeps, so she takes a look at it, giving Katsuki a questioning glance.

“By the message you sent me at 3:30 AM, you slept really well last night?” She dares to say, and also, she dares to continue. “Oh, and your other self is so much nicer than you are. Quite a bummer, really. I kinda wanted to date the guy.”

Mr. Katsuki does not get flustered. The only reason his face is red as a tomato is the hot weather. It has nothing to do with the indication of Y/N willing to date him. It’s not him anyway, technically. Plus, he would never date this terrible, smelly woman. Never. He has no intentions of waking up next to this menace everyday, moan about the stupid pigeons while trying to untangle their limbs from each other, he definitely has no intentions of making breakfast every morning to make sure the Menace actually eats proper food and not just rice with fucking broccoli - just because the food is plain, doesn’t mean it’s nutritious.

… wait.

You are misunderstanding. He definitely DID NOT think about this before. His self-deprived brain is just a bit to imaginative, that’s all.

Let’s take a deep breath and step back for a bit. Let’s think about this situation.

The Menace is clearly hungover if not fucking drunk, still.

The Menace just confessed that she met his other self.

That means…

“You got drunk with me in an alternative universe?!” Mr. Katsuki snaps again, glaring at the floor incredulously.

“No, I got drunk with you, Deku and Todoroki. Also, you are really sensitive and super cuddly when you drink. It’s adorable.” The menace GIGGLES, hiding her stupid face behind her stupid hands, looking like a lovesick teenager.

Cuddly?!

Adorable?!

“You did not fucking cuddle me. You did not!”

Dynamight can not take this shit anymore. He explodes. Literally. For the next few minutes, all you can hear is swear words and death threats coming from the hero, his palm making explosions from left to right.

(…And you didn’t even mention the cute selfie you have on your phone with the three of them yet; you can only hope the picture is still available in this world, because fuck if you you won’t frame that shit and put it on your living room shelf.)

“It’s Shouto’s fault! His father has a liquor cabinet!” She tries to save herself self while throwing the other one under the bus. Todoroki doesn’t get offended, just stays silent for a while and nods.

“My father indeed had a liquor cabinet, but I never opened it before. Does it have good stuff in it?” He asks innocently, but his gaze is nothing but mischievous.

“Shou…” Midoriya facepalms, but says nothing else. He’s just done.

“The best stuff, mate. Mind sharing in the future?” Y/N winks, and for the first time in Shouto’s life, he grins at a “stranger”.

Mr. Katsuki doesn’t comment, he just explodes again.

Literally.

💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥

Extra:

(not a part of the main story, feel free to skip if it’s not your cup of tea)

Warnings: Closeted gays, Tododeku, talking about sex (only vaguely)

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“You wanted to see us, Y/N?”

Yes, you wanted to see these two. Why? Because you are a fucking fujoshi. That’s why.

“Shouto, Deku. Please, sit down.” You point at the sofa, making the two bulky heroes shuffle awkwardly. “Today, we will talk about love, romance and sexual attraction.”

As you finish your sentence, the two heroes get extremely uncomfortable, shuffling a bit more to stay as far away from each other as they can. They literally behave like two teenagers who just got caught making out. It’s actually quite hilarious.

“I’m… not sure why is this important, miss Y/N, b-but to be honest, I ne-never had the time to think about my… preferences? I’m married to my job, I guess?” Stutters the green haired hero, awkwardly ruffling his own curls to keep himself grounded. Adorable.

“I am more than content with my current life. I do not need romance to be happy and satisfied.” Deadpans the half and half hero, and that’s actually what you wanted to hear; because now, you can ask your question without beating around the bush too much.

“Does Deku has something to do with your current satisfaction?”

If he dares to answer with a lie…

“Yes.” He deadpans again, making the greenette next to him blush like a high schooler.

“Deku?”

“I… I don’t think there is anyone who would be able to understand my work on the long run, as I barely have a day off, and I also couldn’t find anyone who would tolerate my rambling for long enough to like me that way.” He sighs, trying his best to not make an eye contact with anyone in the office.

“I like your ramblings.” Shouto steps in, not really understanding the problem here. This guy really can’t read the room. “I also work with you, so I understand your line of work perfectly.”

“Shouto, we are talking about love and romance.” Deku whines, clearly done with his best friend’s bluntness. “You wouldn’t have sex with me, would you?”

“I never thought about this option before.” Todoroki touches his non-existent beard, clearly deep in thought. “Is it allowed to romance your best friend?”

“Shou!!” Deku takes one of the pillows from the sofa and hides his face in it; his body lit up as OFA intensely crackles around his muscles from the embarrassment.

“You can date your best friend, yes. Now leave. And talk about it. My work here is done.”

As the two heroes leave the office, you look at the blonde hiding behind his massive desk next to you; the two were too busy to realize he’s here, and you decided not to make a comment about it either. It was more fun this way.

“They will fuck tonight.” He says while looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his amused face.

“They probably won’t, but they will get together, for sure.” You smirk back, your hand in the air, waiting for a high five, which never comes.

“You have a long way before you can get a high five from me, you fucking drunkard.”

Oh, well.

At least you officially made two couples since you started in this office.

That’s enough of an achievement for the day.

“I really want to drink with you again, Mr. Dynamight.” You sigh into the distance, mumbling to yourself.

“You wish!” The blonde snaps, his blushing face hidden behind his hands as he looks away; as Mr. Dynamight said, you are a long way from getting drinking privileges with the hero, but never say never; If that adorable blush is anything to go by, you are not that far away from it as Bakugou thinks.

… next chapter!

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The alternative universe story ENDS HERE, the main story will be continued!

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End note: We are slowly getting into the romance territory here! I actually came up with quite a few ideas in the last few days! Don’t worry, it’s still going to be funny. If you think these two can do anything in a non-comedic way, you read this story the wrong way, mate.

Also thank you for those who only read the last 3 chapters; I hope you enjoyed them! Feel free to stay around for the rest of the story! The taglist is still open for everyone! 💥

If there is anything you want to see in this story, feel free to message me with your ideas! 💜

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

#bakugo katsuki x reader #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #shenanigansbypurplepotato #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x self insert

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idkfitememate · 27 days

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Hhfsfhfhfhfsh I’m back in the inbox once again. Came up with another Furina idea. Kinda horror themed. But not really scary;

Faceless Furina. After her story quest, you can’t seem to see her face at all. It’s just…blurry. Even when face to face her eyes are covered with her hair as shade covers the lower half of her face. No one can see what her face looks like after her final forced performance where she fills in for the last scene. She doesn’t even try to hide it, nor does she even attempt to fix the situation. She even seems happy about it. But no one can tell because no one can see her face.

Side shots glitch and won’t reveal anything beyond her ears. If you were to try and hack to look at her face the game would either crash or you’d see a black abyss instead of her face.

Cameras stop giving her front face shots. The most you would get is the back of her head in close ups.

In events like the film festival, if the traveler tried to point the camera at her even as a joke—the lens would start to break and Furina would snap at them to move it away or face painful consequences. If they don’t listen Furina starts to threaten them or Paimon. (Girlboss move making them realize her boundaries after her crap-show of a story quest) she will unsheathe her sword or use hand-to-hand combat if needed to teach a lesson.

Photos are blurred or destroyed if they even make it to that stage. Most pictures don’t even make it to processing because they’ve somehow been messed up. A pigeon flew in front of her face the moment the camera flashed. The lens caught too much light ruining the picture. Paparazzi find themselves in painful situations when they suddenly trip when trying to sneak a picture of her secretly or someone brutally runs into them on accident. Though this is all on the speculation that Furina would let someone take a picture of her. She usually straight up refuses.

Even mirrors don’t show her face clearly. Nor so puddles or lakes or any body of water. If Furina wishes to hide her face, the world bends to that wish no matter the cost.

I feel like I share more Furina headcanons than I do deer creator. Which feels kinda sad. Might come back with some new facts after this week or something.

🦌 anon

You’re fine! And I love faceless characters sm you don’t understand-

Like, faceless beings is such a cool concept we don’t play around with as much as I’d like-

I used to have a character like this, Asagiri!Reader x BSD, but reader, no matter what or how you looked at them would be “faceless”.

Fan in front of them, parasol to low, book pressed to their nose, leaves in the way, a flock of birds flying past, a glare on the camera, it’s too dark, to many people in the crowd, etc etc-

Anyway, faceless characters/beings :D

#asks <3 #anon <3 #🦌deer anon <3

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circularrruins · 1 year

Text

written for today's lucemond prompt: who did this to you?

kinda like a lucemond retelling of the tale ‘Bael the Bard’. ⚠️mild implications of abo, mpreg & major character death.

“Old Nan, tell me another! The one with the prince that disappeared.”

“Haven’t you heard that a thousand times, little master? But I will tell it again if you so insist.” Old Nan was too old to remember how many namedays she had lived past. Some say she used to be the late queen Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting – but how did a queen’s companion end up a servant in Driftmark? Luke did not know and couldn’t care to know. He is a boy of seven after all, and Old Nan’s bed tales are all it takes to suffice his curious appetite.

A long, long time ago, there lived a dragon queen. All beauty and glamour, people in the Seven Kingdoms praised her as the Realm’s Delight. The queen had five sons, all inherited their mother’s unworldly beauty and grace. But it was her second son that stood the most beautiful among all his brothers, a delicate and exquisite creature. His name’s also Lucerys, just like you, young lord. Luke blinked. Lucerys is a very common Velaryon name, countless Driftmark lords were called that.

“He’s also an omega male, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, my lord remembered the tale well.” It is, indeed, a story that Luke had heard many, many times. “A very rare atavism, tracing back to the ancient Valyrian people, and the prince was of pure Valyrian blood.”

“I’m of Valyrian blood. Did he look like me?”

“No. I’m afraid not.” Old Nan gently caressed his silver hair, her answer firm and quick, as if she herself had met this prince from the legend. “Sadly, the prince did not possess the coloring, which has brought him endless pain and sorrow. But that’s another story.”

The queen loved Lucerys dearly, his brothers fought with knights, and to each other, to crown him the queen of love and beauty. Showered in love the prince flowered, and marriage proposals from the noble houses over the Seven Kingdoms and across the Narrow Sea continuously flushed to the queen for the prince’s hand. The Queen declined them all, including her stepmother, the Dowager Queen, who proposed for her sons. For in the queen’s eyes, no one was worthy to be her precious son’s consort, ‘gods or mortals, I would give the same answer.’ she was heard saying once, joking.

In the end, the queen still betrothed Prince Luke to one man. Or had to, before her refusals to the prince’s suitors transforming to a political menace. The lucky man was none other than the dragon queen’s own son and heir.

“Did they marry grandiosely?”

“Yes. And no. The wedding could not complete as Lucerys vanished out of thin air just when pigeons flew out from the wedding pie. I’ve never seen a pie that huge and so exquisitely made. Such a shame no one got a taste of it.” That’s Old Nan lost in her stories again, saying something like she was there when it happened.

Prince Luke disappeared, under the plain eyes of hundreds of thousands. The queen had gone into madness when she realized this was not some overstepping prank. Every day, orders and bounties were issued by the queen and sent all over the realm. There seemed to be no other priorities in the realm. His brothers and stepfather, the King Consort, believed he was abducted by their enemies. Furious, they mounted on dragon backs and vowed to burn down any castle, town or city that dares to snub the search, let alone harbor any suspects. For a whole year, dragons roamed over the skies of the realm, even above Dorne nearly triggering a war. Even the Night’s Watch sent out a dispatch beyond the wall to search for the prince’s whereabouts. But all efforts were in vain. Whispers started to spread that it was the gods that take Prince Luke away in punishment of the dragon queen’s pride and blasphemy. Words are like winds, planting seeds of rebellion across the realm.

“The rumors seriously undermined her, the Queen. Many were unhappy about her ascending the throne, deemed it a violation of the sacred laws that had passed since history. For the gods arranged men for ruling, and women for obeying.” That’s something new to the story, but Old Nan has added more details tonight. Maybe she’s so tired of repeating the same words again and again.

Those false talks proved to be nothing but nonsense eventually, for the prince that disappeared had miraculously reappeared in his bed chamber three years later. He was in sleep when found, still in his wedding gown and cloak, quiet and divine like the day he disappeared. Only, there was a sapphire pinning the cloak, and a small slumbering baby aside. Turned out he was in the royal castle all along, hidden away in secret chambers behind the walls.

“Who did this to you?” The royal family was eager to bring fire and blood to the prince’s kidnapper and raper. But the prince refused to give a name, or even any trace, only insisting that the child was born out of love. Even his mother’s tears and begs failed to waver his determination of silence.

The news of Prince Luke’s return was immediately announced to the realm, but it was too late to change anything. Plots of betrayal became acts of war, and all was lost.

“Who stole Lucerys? Why is it never mentioned in the story?” Despite his peculiar fascination to the tale, he’s always annoyed the story went astray from the main character, and Old Nan would tell him that the tale has always meant to serve as a warning to those who are disrespectful to the gods.

“It was his uncle.” Old Nan said, apathetic, but Luke was excited, his whining about the tale’s rushing end finally paid off. “The one-eyed prince, people called him, ever a cruel and terrifying figure. Offended by his half-sister’s rejection, enraged by Prince Luke’s betrothal to the crowned prince, who also did not possess the Valyrian look, the one-eyed prince vowed to avenge his insults.”

“But how? Wasn’t he a guest at the wedding too, being a member of the royal family? And easily recognized and recalled by others should he ever attempted to approach his nephew? Why didn’t people suspect him? And……”

“It’s all very conspicuous reflecting from hinder sight. The sapphire. The mockery nature of the kidnap. And also, the political chain reaction of this incident of course……” Old Nan got lost in her muttering again.

“Forgive, little master. My memory eludes me. A mercy from age.” Memory?

“The trickery deployed by the one-eyed prince was never known, but there are powers in this world to make happen the unlikely, should one know how to wield them. And some did say that the sapphire – the one that pinned on Prince Luke’s wedding cloak, many believed it was the same gem that settled in the one-eyed prince’s empty socket – was magic, capable of twisting minds at its master’s will.”

“The baby…” Luke gasped, realizing something, “…he said it was love, but he’d been enchanted, hadn’t he?”

“Oh, that was love, actually.”

“How do you know? What kind of love could it be anyway? He imprisoned Prince Luke and kept him away from his family!”

“The unfortunate kind. But love, all the same.” There was sadness in Old Nan’s voice.

“What happened to them then? You said there was war. Did they survive?” Luke pursued the story.

“Like I said, all was lost. All. But that’s a tale for another night.” Then, ignoring Luke’s protest, Old Nan blew off the candlelight, the room immediately consumed by darkness save for a few slips of moonlight. Vaguely, Luke could tell Old Nan’s retreating contour. She’s weeping, quietly.

#lucemond

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galladegamer · 2 years

Text

HUGE DHMIS SPOILERS AHEAD

I think I might've figured it out.

I was thinking about the possible story with Lesley and how Yellow guy runs on batteries when I realized...what if the different episodes' subjects have something to do with it? So here's my theory: Once, there was a family (Episode 3). The mom was named Lesley, the dad was named Roy, and the kid was named David (the name on the tombstone and the D on yellow guy's shirt) (another thing to note is that in episode 3, Duck shows pictures of a random family, which could possibly be Lesley, Roy, and David). Lesley was at work (Episode 1) so Roy told David to make friends with the neighbors (Episode 4). The neighbors gave David a bird (little baby pigeon?) who flew into the street. David chased after the bird, but in a series of gruesome events, was hit by a car (Episode 5) and died (Episode 2). This is what we saw in that one Claymation scene in episode 5 (notice how panicked Lesley sounds in this scene, as if she's losing a son, which if this theory is true, she is). Roy becomes quiet and reclusive, metaphorically eating up whatever family they have left (just like how he ate the family in episode 3). Lesley, meanwhile, has to go to therapy (Carehound). This didn't work (notice how nonsensical the elevator's therapy speech is) so she decided on a DIFFERENT coping mechanism. She decided to bring her son back (like how Yellow guy brings duck back in episode 2 (which is also the exact same way that Lesley puts a replacement duck figurine there in episode 6 (notice how both times their heads get taken off))). What she did was she make a new version of David. A robotic version (Episode 6). She then decided to give her new robotic son (not biological, which is the reason for the "You're not my real son" outburst. Notice she doesn't say "You're not my son", she says "You're not my REAL son"). She decided to make a reboot of a show her kid once starred in. A show created by her husband and a friend of his. A show called "Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared." Red Guy doesn't know he's in a show this time, which is why he's more aloof now.

Then we get to the book. I have three different theories on what that book could've contained before it got shredded.

An incantation for the council

This is basically if everything I just said was completely wrong and instead it's some sort of demonic thing about something. Not much to say here, except that if it's true, then maybe it's a good thing that yellow guy shredded it.

2. The script

This one is one that I personally really like. It would make sense after all. The thing is that there isn't much to say about it other than that.

3. A scrapbook

This one might seem weird, but there's a chance that it's a scrapbook of David when he was alive. It would work with my current theory and I think it would also work with how Lesley acts. She would like Yellow Guy to know who he once was. The only thing that strains this option is why would she want the others to see it? Would it really matter if they did?

This multiple theory thing goes for the stairs too, because I have some theories on who could be a floor above Lesley.

The council

If you remember, in Episode 2, Lamp speaks about some organization named the council. I think at some point in Episode 5, someone talks about "the ancient ones" as well, but I can't remember very well. They seem like such weird comments that they can't just be jokes.

2. The director

There's a chance that Lesley isn't the only one working on this show. There could be a director that works on the basic scripts and then Lesley fine tunes them.

3. Roy

Seeing as Roy is Yellow guy's dad this could also be very likely. Who knows? Maybe Roy IS the director.

So that's my personal theory about the Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared TV show. I only saw each episode once, so it's not completely fine tuned just yet, but I still think it could all be very interesting, especially since there are still things I have yet to talk about. Here's a list of other possible things that could be important.

Why would an uncle be "in the distance" in episode 3?

The big boy and bigger boy rooms aren't just one off jokes, they appear in Lesley's model of the home.

Was yellow guy always smart? After all, he was only dumb because of bad batteries.

Why was red guy so desperate to leave the house in episode 5?

In episode 2 of the original YouTube series, Yellow guy says "My dad is a computer." Is Roy a robot too? Does the original YouTube series even have anything to do with the TV series?

After Lesley said yellow guy wasn't her real son, she said she was kidding.

Why can dumb yellow guy see smart yellow guy in reflections and vice versa?

The shovel appeared as a teacher in DHMIS 6 of the original YouTube series

Speaking of the shovel, did Lesley dig up David's corpse and use it to make the robot like how Yellow guy digs up duck?

All of these questions are being left without answers, which is why we all try to answer them in different ways. But we always say any other theory that doesn't go with our theory is wrong. That's just not true. As Becky once said in an interview, "We've read a lot of theories online about what it all means and they are all correct.

#dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis theory #theory #dhmis spoilers

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shoyzz-art · 2 months

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"Uh… well, I can say that I personally know only eight of them.”

“Oh, so they brought friends to terrorize me. How lovely,” Tony said sarcastically over the cawing of at least fifty birds. The noise increased considerably since the two of them could be seen through the glass.

The kid fiddled with the bag of peanuts Tony dug out from some cabinet. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out and meet them? They’re really sweet.”

Tony looked at the swarm of black. “No thanks. I’ll pass.”

“Okay,” the kid shrugged before wheeling himself to the door. “Just… close it after I’m outside. I don’t think you want them making themselves at home in your living room.”

“Hardy-har. You keep that sass up and I’ll let them eat you.”

“Jokes on you, they wouldn’t.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I asked them,” the kid stated as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Okay, crazy pigeon lady,” Tony ruffled his hair, “out you go,” he said and opened the door.

Just as the door closed, most of the crows flew a bit back while eight of them landed on the kid’s shoulders, arms and legs. And as Peter fed them, talked to them and smiled at them, Tony couldn’t help the soft smile on forming on his own face.

Hiii so it´s been a while :D I finally got some time to draw and color some art TwT (I liked it a little bit more in B&W so that's why I'm posting it as well).

The story belongs to @winter-turtle :) Here's the link to their story: Go take a look.

#peter parker #spiderman #crows #sketch #fanart #my fanart

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thewriteblrcoven · 6 months

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The writing project

Note: There are a few writeblrs in this story. The representation of these writeblrs is not accurate to how they truly behave. Please do not take their character in the story as how they are. Each person is an amazing person.

It was a gorgeous afternoon. The sun was shining onto the woodsy clearing and there lay two teenagers just sunbathing. One was a fox with a human body, piercing emerald eyes and black fur where other foxes typically had white patches. The other seemed like a regular human, with brown eyes, and dyed turquoise hair. Except… no, it was probably nothing. The two were very peaceful after such a chaotic morning, but that was in the past. Hatter was doodling while M rambled on about whatever topic came to his mind.

"I feel like... if we were to figure out who was the leader this time, we could prevent another war. Unless Grimfox is just bullshitting about it. I mean it has been around since the third war, so we don't fully know if it is true." M was looking at his partner when his ear twitched. "Someone is coming.”

Hatter closed his sketchbook as he didn’t know who they were. The fox sat up and looked back to see a pigeon approaching, they weren't expecting anyone so this couldn't mean anything good.

M sat in a room alone with the pigeon, who he had heard was named Tea. A detective coming in to fix their disorderly town. Tea and her partner Yesi had brought themselves into something much bigger than them, but that was fine. They would learn one way or another. It wouldn’t affect him.

"Name?"

"People know me as M. That's as much of a name I have."

"Age?"

"17."

M pretended to check his claws, watching the detective record notes during the investigation. The pigeon writing her words in a fluent motion. It was beautiful. As it was now memorized by M; forgery was a craft, not a skill.

"Your handwriting is something else, Detective. Makes me a tad envious, the way your pen glides across the page, every stroke flowing, and not a single error? You seem to dot your ‘i’s’ as an afterthought. It’s calligraphic, really." Tea squirmed a bit as he complimented her handwriting.

“Er- thank you,” she replied. Maybe it was his claws. The pigeon had never been keen on being around predators, minus Yesi, but said wolf had wanted to interview the leader.

“Now, for the interview….” She continued asking the standard questions you asked a suspect for murder. “Where were you at this time?... Who was with you?...Besides the hatter.”

“So many questions, detective— you haven’t even told me what I’m here for.” M looked over at a window to see a raven waiting for him. It pecked the window and waited to be let in. “Would you mind if I put the raven on the writing desk?”

“Sure?” M got up and walked over to the window, opening it with ease. The raven quickly flew inside and landed on the desk before M went back to sit down.

“Where were you at the time?”

“I was in my house, like any other person would be at that time.” Hatter was tapping his hands against the metal table which was annoying the wolf. A quick glance around the room hadn’t revealed anything to the 18-year-old.

“A little bunny told me that you hang around the library downtown. That library happens to be a few blocks away from the murder scene.” This stopped the hatter’s rhythmic tapping. He gave the wolf a sideways look, then resumed tapping.The white wolf stared at Hatter, something about him made his fur stand up on end. But he didn’t act on the feeling.

“Do you know the murder victim Miss Liddell?”

“Who?” M looked confused as his little raven bounced across the desk in glee. A small chirp and peck at M’s paws had gotten the fox frustrated. “If you don-” The raven chirped again and flew on top of M’s head. The pigeon let out a little giggle before getting back into a serious mood.

“Liddell Mcgee,” The pigeon stated before going on to list numerous things about the victim.

“Oh, you mean Alice. I was unaware that they even had a legal name.” M grabbed the raven and placed them back on the table. “But yes, I knew her. Hatter, Alice and I always had biscuits and tea on Sundays and Wednesdays. It’s a shame she’s gone.”

The Pigeon interrupted, “Do you have any useful information?

“No need to be rude, Detective, everyone will get a chance to talk. But, I do know she made plenty of enemies though. She upset the coven quite a bit.”

“What is the coven?”

“The coven has always ruled here. They founded Wunderland and remain fighting to keep whatever ordered disorder we have left. Alice didn’t like that and wanted to change it. She mentioned calling detectives in to try and do that, which I’m guessing that is you and Yesi. But she knew that was a death wish. You don’t try to control the chaos.” The pigeon was writing rapidly, and M allowed her to finish. After all, he was sending a message. “How did she die anyways?”

“Hard to tell, she was set ablaze.”

“Was she doused or?”

“Unsure.”

“Hatter would be able to help you with that. He’s experienced with fires of any sort through accidents and witch burnings.”

“Interesting.” The pigeon had been warned that Hatter loved starting and setting people on fire. It made sense with witch burnings but it didn’t explain why the cops were so concerned about it.

“That’s what happens when you have witch burnings, someone has to light the fire and he needed the money.” M told a partial truth. Hatter did burn people and get paid, but it wasn't for burning witches. But the detective wouldn’t question it, since the town they came from still did witch burnings.

“For what?”

“Food, clothes— you know, the bare necessities. But that is my question limit for the day, so Hatter and I will see you some other time.” The pigeon escorted M and his raven outside where Hatter was waiting. The raven flew off of M’s shoulder and to Hatter with a cheerful croak. The two teenagers walked away into the forest and once far enough away began talking.

“What did they ask?” M looked at Hatter with his emerald eyes.

“The usual detective questions. Where were you when ‘blah’ happened. Do you know who ‘blah’ is. When is the last time you’ve seen ’blah’, that type of thing."

“It seems your interview went better than mine, since the little demon wasn’t distracting you.” M glared over at the little raven who let out a loud playful chirp and what sounded like giggling. “Death, could you go get us some food?” The raven nodded before flying off.

“You remember how you brought Dez to our hangout? Well it turns out the police now know where we stay.” M went quiet, he didn’t know what to think. His feelings were complicated but quickly turned to full manic rage.

“Hatter, get out your book. I need you to map out the entire town with Death’s help and figure out which house is coven. If Dez wants to start something, we will respond with flames.”

M looked over at Hatter and saw a grin grow on his face. M had to smile back, but still, they had only a few hours to figure this out…. Why not kill something to get rid of his rage? After all, some people were dumb enough to follow M anywhere he went.

The kill was indeed messy; the old hare gave chase. The hare ran better than the had fox thought. M licked the blood off his claws and teeth as the craving for flesh kicked in. Something about killing changed him, he became feral yet controlled, and he couldn’t really explain the phenomenon but he didn’t care.

The body was an issue as he couldn’t just leave it there, but burning it would draw suspicion to Hatter since he lied. Hare was thought to be a witch. M moved the body to an abandoned bear cave where he left the body before walking out to the lake.

He quickly washed the blood off his fur before sitting down on the shore. The lake was a beautiful sight, the moon’s beams bouncing off the surface. Not a single cloud in the sky could block M’s view of burning balls of gas that were too far to feel, but close enough to see. It was a peaceful place. Or so he thought as he heard a few footsteps, he picked up on a familiar scent and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Odd, seeing you here.” It was his ex, why did that rabbit have to ruin his plans.

“What are you doing here, Dez? Don’t you have another fox to go cuddle with?” The white rabbit hugged M from behind. The two exes seemed better off than most, but there was always tension underneath their polite front. M wanted to push them off, but he knew Dez had something up their sleeve.

“Don’t you miss the days of us?”

“Memory is a curse more often than a blessing.” M gazed at the lake, this used to be their spot. The tree across the shore still had their names carved in. “I'd rather forget those days than look you in your eyes.”

Dez broke the hug, revealing a red stain in their fur. It wasn’t from M but it gave him everything he needed to know to suspect Dez was clearly up to no good. “I never knew fur turned red.”

“Well mine does, little fox.”

“It’s foz to you Dez.”

“You say blood stain, I say tomato sauce.”

“I never said anything about a blood stain.”

Dez paused at the remark before responding. “We both know you were thinking it.”

“Just like we both know you told the detectives where I stay.”

“Is it really all so bad?” The rabbit leaned closer to the fox, close enough for M to feel his breath ghosting his neck. “Now they know where you are, you can be proven innocent. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“A good thing?” M chuckled dryly. “Yes, it’s such a good thing.” There was a short silence, both of them staring at their reflections. It had been months since their breakup and yet they looked the same on the outside. Dez was clearly doing better off than M, and they loved to rub it in. M on the other hand was hit hardest by it, going colder than he had since his orphanage days.

“I think I’ve stayed past the time I was welcome, so I’ll catch you on the other side of the coin, eh M?”

“I’ll see you.” The rabbit hopped away, leaving M by the lake.

M felt nothing after that interaction when all he wanted to feel was angry. He was angry at Dez for turning against them, but he knew it was going to happen. He couldn’t explain away his hollowness but a soft caw eventually guided him back to Hatter.

Seeing his expression, Hatter immediately pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” These were the words he repeated to his partner. Rocking him slowly, back and forth, rubbing soothing circles into his back until the stress drained out of him.

After a while, he pulled the M away from him to assess the situation. His eyes were slightly swollen and they lacked their usual gleam, but otherwise he seemed somewhat normal. To him anyways. They stood there for a moment, the dark grass meeting everyday mud.

Deciding it was an “in the moment” type of thing, M stood on the tips of his toes and stole a quick kiss.

“Thanks for that.” he’d said as walking off, not clarifying.

Hatter brought a hand to his lips. He smiled.

The second day the detectives weren’t expecting the duo to show up so early. They had just barely gotten started and hadn’t had time to begin to chat about their plan for today.

“We wouldn’t want to keep you waiting detective.” The fox said as the hatter was looking for something, “Justice must be served, and after all I’m sure you heard of the two new bodies?”

“Bodies?” The pigeon looked up and out of her files, obviously shocked there was more death. But what was she expecting in a murder case?

“The mad old hare and poor doormouse. Everyone in town is talking about it.”

“The mouse looks like a malformed android mixed with a dead raccoon.” Hatter added.

“Interesting” The wolf stared hard at M, he had a horrible feeling about the bodies and him being the one to bring it up. Not he nor Tea were informed by anyone, but the police force here was incompetent. Something was off.

“People think that a bear killed the Hare since he’s missing a few parts and just flesh. Who knows what did that to him.”

“Can you allow me and my partner to talk for a bit…” The pigeon paused blanking at M’s name. “Ty?”

“M. Ty is the orange and white fox. I’m orange and black.” M's expression changed at the mention of the other fox, yet he seemed his best to hide the disdain for Ty.

“Apologizes.” And like that the pigeon and wolf separated themselves from the juveniles.

The detectives left M and Hatter alone and came back to the two throwing their raven across the room. The wolf let out a grunt to signal them to stop and frustration grew when he became upset that the two teenagers ignored him. “We can start.”

“Hatter, would you mind taking Death with you?” Nodding, Hatter allowed the raven to hop on his shoulder. In the investigation room, Hatter sat with his legs crossed, hand propped on his chin. It is seemingly a causal, careless gesture, but others thought differently seeing his intense gaze.

“So, we noticed graffiti near Alice's death scene, and were wondering…”

“If I had something to do with it?”

“Correct.” The wolf quickly jotted something down, then returned to staring at Hatter. Yesi’s eyes were filled with distrust and constantly following the teenager. The raven and Hatter had noticed yet remained quiet about the matter.

“Well, I do not have something to do with it,” I have everything to do with it, he corrected in his head. “We believe that we are done here, don’t we Batman?”

“You named your bird Batman?” Yesi asked incredulously surprised at name.

Not answering, they left without a trace. That was when the hitman came. The jabberwocky ran in and began to attack the turquoise-haired teenager. The hitman had gotten him down to the ground and started to pound onto the man while at the same time trying to find their blade.

The raven took flight and began loudly cawing causing even more chaos than before, yet caught the attention of the fox, who was now coming out of their interrogation room.

“Thank you for the session Te-” The fox looked at the raven who had let out a blood curling caw before making an U-turn back towards Hatter. The fox bolted after the raven which caught the attention of the eagled-eyed wolf.

It wasn’t long before M tackled down the Jabberwocky and the two began fighting on the floor, blood spilling everywhere as the Jabberwocky bit into M’s flesh. The fox clawed the scaly skin of the Jabberwocky before the wolf separated the two. A few of the incompetent police officers grabbed M thinking he caused the conflict. The raven began to peck at their hands as they tried to arrest the innocent fox.

Everything was chaotic and it took a few minutes to get it under control, however the detectives saw how the police were quick to pin the blame on M. Was this the case for the murder of Liddell? After all, there wasn’t much evidence. The young adults left heading back to their hiding spot while the detectives detained the hitman. They would deal with it later.

The detectives could not charge the teenagers as it was clear the police unit here was biased against them. Frustration grew high as they were starting to get a lead but the case had to be closed. They couldn’t afford to keep going, it was against their morals.

On the other hand the two bandaged up at the library. M fiddled around with the blade that he swiped off the Jabberwocky. It was an ancient coven weapon that the Jabberwocky couldn’t have gotten his hands on alone.

M had remembered that it had interested a certain rabbit. Dez wouldn’t shut up about the blade. The Vorpal blade was rumored to be from the mouth of a large beast during the first war. It belonged to the Coven leader but at their death was taken by the Elite and lost to time. Grimfox came to take the blade a few minutes later, leaving the two by themselves. Hatter decided to be brave-ish for once, walking up to M and stealing a kiss back. M was surprised and took a second to respond.

“What was that for?” M looked over at Hatter who went back to bandaging the fox. M sat confused and flustered.

“I just wanted to.” The human picked up the fox with ease and took him into their room to rest. M was more surprised by the fact that Hatter didn’t struggle this time, but possibly due to the amount of times Hatter had to recently keep bringing him back to the library. The fox looked at ceiling before slowly falling asleep.

The fox awoke cuddling beside Hatter, he didn’t remember how he ended up there yet he didn’t question it. The turquoise-haired teenager remained sleeping while M got up out of the bed. He gathered some close and began to write, the moonlight being his only source of light into his black notebook. He scrolled through this rambled thoughts of the past and poetry all about the future. He took out a quill and began to scribble into the thick paper.

I cannot express the feelings hidden inside, for the words seem to leave evacuate my mind at the moment of interest. Will a poem do or a gesture of my love? A deep passion like the flames you use to burn our enemies to the ground. I..

The fox slammed his book shut before throwing it across the room out of frustration. His ears twitched before looking over at Hatter who was now waking up. M glared over at Hatter before walking outside the room frustrated at himself. Hatter awoke confused, the man looked over at a clock before stumbling out of the bed in a sleepy daze. He grabbed M’s book and followed the footprints of the fox who was angrily wandering around the basement of the library.

“That leaves out a few things but...” The fox looked outside at the burning world of Wunderland. The town was lit ablaze like he had planned. “..it brings us to where we are now.” The fox gestured to the two detectives as Hatter was busy doing something outside of their view of vision. “It truly is sad that you brought yourself into a war, Yesi. You elitists are all the same.”

The wolf growled under his breath while the pigeon sat confused.

“Elite?”

“Surprised you didn’t tell the person you brought Yesi.” The wolf growled but it didn’t stop M from talking. “The Elite are the enemies of the Coven. Always trying bring their fucked up version of order to Wunderland. But the time for talk has long passed.”

The room went quiet before a blast of fire came through the entrance. M stood through the fire unscathed but Tea and Yesi quickly flitched. White fur started to burn and a few feathers had turned to ash. Tea quickly took to the air while Yesi went on the offense, tackling M and attempting to kill the man. M was no match for the large wolf, but he wasn’t necessarily aiming to kill.

A quick swipe to Yesi’s face had drawn blood and he had become distracted and blinded. Another burst of flames came into the room which allowed M to get the large wolf on the ground. His orange and black fur remained perfect while Yesi’s white fur was starting to blacken due to the fire. M watched the fire on his fur, while Yesi was slowly burning alive. The fox had more important matters to think of.

He had never realized that the fire just sat atop of his fur, maybe he should have taken up potion making. The fox stepped outside to hear the evil laughter of Hatter. Happily burning down houses to their little pyromaniacal desires.

#writeblr mafia mystery #writing #the project #tw violence #tw murder #tw blood #tw arson #tw mature

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bobgongo · 4 months

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Whilly & Bunber (part 1: Weird Tree)

hi!!!!!!! welcome to my silly story about a cat and a pigeon who go on adventures, idk where it will lead but i plan on contributing to it consistently. im 100% open to critiques feel free to be as genuine and harsh as possible. or just turn ur brain of and enjoy the silly adventures idc :)

Orange is an unnatural color to see on a pine tree. Yet here it was, a bold shimmering patch of bright orange splattered on a trunk. Was it juice? The way it glistened as Whilly shifted his head made it appear as if it was a wet splotch of paint; yet, when he reached out to feel it, the texture was nothing like you'd expect... or maybe everything you'd expect, if you're the type that's used to trees with strange patterns.

"...It's dry?" Whilly's bulbous, yellow eyes seemed to somehow grow even larger with this question-- glistening as if in mimicry of the patch's unnatural sparkle. "This isn't a splatter, this is some kind of mark! Look at that sparkle! When have you ever seen anything like this, Bunber?"

Bunber stood on Whilly's head, anxiously shuffling in place. "Wow! Dry, I wouldn't have guessed." The irritable bird barely bothered to get a glimpse of the orange mark. His eyes-- sunset red and jutting out the sides of his head-- were saving their focus for the darkening woods that surrounded them. His head was jolting to and fro, maximizing for a full 360 degree view of the menacing trees and shadowy shrubs.

Whilly's focus didn't budge, instead he hesitantly sniffed the tree: sap, dirt, nuts... nothing unusual. Often a lack of clues might lessen curiosity, however in Whilly's case this only fuels his questions. "Bunber, It's apart of the bark! None of the other trees are like this." To say Whilly was in awe would be accurate; however, when you get to know him (as is the unfortunate case for Bunber) you'd soon learn his face is just always like that. A curious cat with yellow fur that glows like sunshine, Whilly craves excitement like its candy; and when you're Whilly, excitement can come from the most peculiar of places.

"Must be a weird tree." Bunber finally gave it a glance, his low expectations met.

"A weird tree," Whilly agreed, "or a normal tree hit with a weird substance." He finally ripped his eyes away from the tree and started looking around, searching for a similar mark. Sunset had turned to dusk, and with it Bunber's tolerance to impatience-- and Bunber considers himself a patient pigeon for what he has to deal with. It's not easy being all fluffed feathers and calm coos when you have to ride the shoulder of a hyperactive feline. A predator, by the way, who bares his teeth far too often than what should be comfortable for a ground-dwelling bird such as Bunber. The life of a pigeon is a fearful one; Bunber is lucky to have been blessed with his dark blue plumage, which camouflages himself well with the night and is likely the only reason he's somehow still alive at the ripe age of 5. Ripe for being swallowed up by an Owl, that is.

With a grunt, Bunber left Whilly's shoulder and flew in front of him onto a near branch, putting Bunber the closest he'd get to an eye-to-eye conversation with the erratic cat. "Whilly!" Whilly's ears flattened as he made eye contact, frozen mid-step. Bunber straightened his posture as he continued. "We are not out here to learn about the local plant-life. And the more time we waste looking for a shelter, the closer we'll get to learning about the local wildlife too." Bunber notched his head clockwise for a quick glance behind him, the volume of his lecture then tastefully lowered to an angry whisper. "Maybe you're excited to learn about this place, but I personally don't care for a lesson on the digestive tract of a hawk."

Whilly's frozen position melted with giggles. "Aw, come on, Bunber." He stuck out his arm for Bunber land on. Bunber stiffly accepted this offer, climbing back onto Whilly's shoulder. "You're not gonna get snatched up by any dumb bird on my watch. Have you seen me pounce? I eat hawks for breakfast!" Whilly's claws glistened in the moonlight as he pounced forward, slashing an imaginary foe and sending up a flurry of leaves.

Bunber batted away a stray leaf with his wing. "You eat sparrows," Bunber corrected, his voice growing weak, "and, yes... I've seen you pounce." He gulped.

Whilly laughed loudly at this as he continued deeper into the dark woods. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, Bunber!" Whilly ruffled the feathers on Bunber's head until the pigeon's tiny face almost doubled in size. Whilly laughed even harder at the sight of the spiky tuft he'd created. Bunber did not.

next >

#writing #my writing #fic #my fic #fantasy #anthro #Whilly & Bunber

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