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#it just happened
megamindsupremacy · 5 months
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Edit: someone added an ID in the reblogs!
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pigeonstab · 22 days
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Wee woo finished the ref sheets (they are way too high res idk if anyone will even be able to load them)
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the-modern-typewriter · 4 months
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As a long time lover of vampires, I have recently stumbled upon your wee blog and your vampire writings have me feral and unhinged. You truly capture the alluring and terrifying predator that the vampire should be. They are just so *chef's kiss* amazing! Superb!! Thank you for the undead food!!!
"Do you ever get an answer?"
The protagonist startled, head snapping up. The boy was standing only a metre away, in the aisle, smoky and soft in the candlelight. His eyes seemed to burn, pinprick red and gorgeous, with the fire's reflection. He was...well. He was beautiful.
The protagonist quickly looked away. It was wrong to think such things.
"To your prayers," the boy added, with a smile. "Do you ever get an answer? You're here a lot. I've seen you."
The protagonist swallowed. It would be wrong to lie, and a confession of something to say no. Never. It wasn't something they could say to their parents. What if the silence simply meant that they'd done something wrong? Their parents always seemed so sure.
"I've never heard anything back either," he said, in a confiding tone of voice. "I'm always curious if it's just me."
"He has his reasons, I'm sure. I mean, that's what everyone says."
"Well, if everyone says it."
When they looked up again, the boy was closer than before, in the row in front of them, hands resting lightly on the pew separating them. He had nice hands. Elegant. They were nothing like the protagonist's; calloused, nail-bitten, rough. They would probably be very soft to hold.
They realised they were still on their knees and quickly hastened to stand, cheeks flushing. "I didn't mean to interrupt you," they said. "It's not - people aren't normally here at night."
"No," the boy agreed.
"But you are?"
"Insomnia. I don't sleep much."
"The priests don't mind?"
His smile curled up like kindling catching; just as bright. "They think it's dangerous to be out at night in these parts, but it's yet to stop me."
"My parents don't like it either."
"But here you are."
The protagonist shrugged. "We don't live far from the church. And they - well - they like that I come here."
"And nothing bad can happen on hallowed ground, of course."
"Right."
His eyes really were astonishing. Further away from the light of the candles, the protagonist had expected them to grow shadowed like the rest of his face, but they still seemed so bright. Intent, in a way that nobody had ever looked at them, but which sent a delicious shiver down their spine.
The protagonist realised, with a sharp stab of embarrassment, that they'd leaned in.
"It's okay," the boy said. "I think you're real pretty too."
"It's a sin to lie in church." Their face burned, though. Never mind that they should have protested so many other things about the statement.
The boy laughed and that really was pretty. He leaned in a little in turn. Up close he smelled like...like...the protagonist wasn't exactly sure what it reminded them of. Roses wasn't quite right. Neither was the first snow of winter. Yet it was both of those things, and water on stone, and the church itself a little. Something fleeting. Something that had been there forever.
His finger ghosted beneath the protagonist's chin, a caress, a whisper.
"I - I should go," the protagonist said.
"You don't want to though. You want to kiss me."
Was it so embarrassingly obvious, that forbidden thing?
It was true, but the protagonist would never have said it, never have done it, never have even dreamed of something so bold as to kiss a total stranger in the middle of the night. It was so...the priests would surely not approve. It was difficult to think about the priests, about anything else, when he leaned in the rest of the way.
It wasn't a proper kiss. It was another whisper. A yearning.
Hunger.
It sprung inside the protagonist so hard and fast that they were almost winded by it. To kiss this boy. To be held in the hand of something ancient. To lose themselves in something beyond human.
The protagonist blinked. They shook their head, trying to clear it.
The boy kissed them. It was sweet and heady. For a second, his lips were so cold that the protagonist gasped.
In an instant, or maybe it was a long time, the boy had moved. He had taken the protagonist's hand. He had led them to the altar, glittering a dark gold in the night. Time was honey and melted wax. Time was that his lips were still against theirs, and it was all surely wrong, but their first proper kiss didn't feel wrong at all. It felt like the answer to a question they had been screaming for a while.
They were both on their knees, then, somehow. His fingers carded through the protagonist's hair, so gently, so tenderly. His lips trailed a song against the protagonist's throat, a comet path. Hot. Scattering molten stars through their body.
"Pray," he whispered against their ear. "Tell me if you get a fucking answer this time."
Then he sank his fangs into the protagonist's throat.
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tamelee · 8 months
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Elf Sasuke irt this post, for the lovely @meimeithewhiterabbit 🫶 thankyou always for your support and the amazing tags you leave behind 💕 I hope you like it!
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ashleyslorens · 9 months
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#i love it when men suffer
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berrysquared · 1 year
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(Ba)king (Br)ead
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eliyips · 7 months
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xisuma meets a weird little allay
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(its me. im the allay.)
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sweeneydino · 1 month
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I have no excuse...
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derpiedoxie · 1 year
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Finally made a mer Eclipse design!
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He is big, he is mean, and he’s cocky as hell
I love him :)
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tinyq · 10 months
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Up-dos!
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sacrificialter · 10 months
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You just know Draco called Harry a child for wanting to do this and then dug up his family's ritual robes and stressed about his hair 😌
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froggiethelesbian · 9 months
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There’s something so intimate with seeing another disabled person in public. I was walking down the street with a friend to a cafe, my red cane in hand. Coming down from the opposite street was a young women with her friend. I saw her bedazzled cane, covered in stickers and art then looked up to her eyes. She had been looking at my cane, covered head to toe in stickers, before looking up to me. We both smiled and kept walking.But with no words spoken there was a message.
“You’re just like me. We are both here, living our lives, walking with a friend like everyone else. We exist, not just online but here in person, we are not alone.”
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foulfiendfern · 1 year
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imagine jonah’s surprise upon taking over elias’ body and finding out he just accidentally possessed a stealth trans man . this evil 19th century man realizing he’s been turned into a pronoun is my new favourite hc
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surplus-of-sarcasm · 14 days
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I Do
TW: Blood, bruises, and some angst
Ya girl has some off-days from college, and she's decided to use em. Missed y'all < 3
The villain's gloved fingers drummed impatiently on the table, his dark shadow looming over the hero with a promise of danger.
"What's it going to be, Hero? I sell those codes to Supervillain? Or you comply with our little agreement?" His tone was perfectly calm, eerily so, his eyes impossible to read behind the domino mask, but he still emanated danger, his lips drawn together in a tight line.
It was cruel calling it 'their' agreement because the hero had no hand in this. The suggestion had left her more shocked than angry, still reeling from the villain's words.
"Marry me," he'd said in a commanding tone. Like any other choice would've been the wrong answer, tilting her chin upwards ever so subtly.
And the hero held his gaze, transfixed, gasping and laughing and hoping this was nothing but a fever dream.
"Wha-" the hero choked out incoherently.
The villain had let go of her face, his hands resting on the top of her chair. "I can repeat it as many times as you want me to," he stage-whispered against the shell of her ear, his tone gentle and dangerous all at once.
"But, I don't understand. What could you possibly gain from this of all things? You despise me, Villain." She truly couldn't process any of what she was told, the mere idea of being tethered so bindingly to her worst enemy leaving her mind an ineffective, nervous wreck.
The villain huffed out a rough laugh, very genuine and horribly cruel. "Oh, but I do despise you. Very much. I despise how defeated and humiliated you left me in front of half the city . Despised the fact that you got me locked up. Despised how for the very first time, I actually felt like I lost the game, and I'm a rather sore loser, you know." The villain's demeanour was eerily calm, his shoulders straight, his resting face showing nothing but a placid neutrality as he turned to stand in front of the hero, but it was arguably more terrifying, more unpredictable.
"I just want to see you as defeated as I've been, Hero. Bound so intimately to your worst enemy, your greatest nightmare. If you do this, it means admitting to me, and more importantly, to yourself, that the only option you have is bending to my whims," he crooned, his lips curling into a wicked smirk.
The hero wanted to scream, to kick the villain in the teeth and watch the blood trickle down his lips and the bruising dye his skin a grotesque purple. She wanted to think of a clever solution that left the man's face contorted with a strange mix of hatred and respect, to blow his plan up in his face. Anything that would spare her this hell.
"Did I mention you have exactly five minutes to decide?" he piped up casually, examining his nails.
The hero swore and the villain let out a half-snicker. This was madness. A death sentence that would last for the rest of her life. And it didn't matter if she said no, if she undid whatever she could of the havoc those codes would wreak in Supervillain's hands. The conviction so heavily saturated in the villain's tone, the way his jaw clenched and his fists tightened was more than enough proof that he would spread more chaos, spark more fights, destroy an endless array of things and lives until she gave in to him.
The villain loved control like he loved the air he breathed, even more so, like a drug that left him intoxicated and lusting for more.
If she didn't listen, she was sending everyone she cared about, sending the city, the whole world if the villain had it his way, to hell.
The hero sucked in a measured breath, reading the contract word for word, from the title to the fine print, scouring it for a loophole she could use, for any more tricks up the villain's sleeve, just to find nothing. She tried to relax her tensed shoulders, her grip merciless on the pen in her erratically shaking hands, every curve and line of the letters of her name feeling like a blade was slicing through her heartstrings like how one would rip a stalk; slowly, unevenly, time seeming to slow down and the world seeming to freeze for a moment that felt like a thousand years and then some.
The villain didn't smile or laugh or let any display of emotion etch itself onto the harsh lines of his features. He nodded curtly instead, snatching the paper and folding it into a square and tucking it in a well-concealed pocket of his suit. "The cruelty only ends here," he attested, his voice tight and no longer playful, the way it was whenever he promised something.
The hero nodded, swallowing the humiliation at the back of her throat, even though she wasn't inclined to believe him.
"There's a ceremony. Nothing very insane, just you, me and an officiator. This is just a contract, not a marriage certificate, even if we both know which one of those is more binding. You'll show up today, if you know what's good for you, heroine."
The hero wasn't sure when she was up on her feet and slapping the villain harshly across the face, blood spurting from his mouth and staining his perfectly straight teeth, as he only grit them into a manic grin, shaking with a hoarse cackle as he wiped the blood of his face "Is that how you treat your husband, my dear? Do they forget to teach you manners at the hero agency?"
The hero was too dazed with rage to speak, trying to mar the villain's visage with another rough blow to it, until he caught her hand with an iron fist. "I said I'd never hurt you for nothing, but not that I'd let you do to me what you please without consequence. So play nice, darling." The villain let go of her arm slowly, the bruises he left in his wake more than enough of a warning.
The second he left, the hero didn't cry as she thought she would, she didn't scream, she didn't destroy everything around her or rip through her hair. Instead, she slid down against the wall, expressionless but breathing hard, her lungs hungry for air that seemed so unfairly little, her heart playing songs of anxiety and fury and sorrow every horrible emotion she'd ever known.
She was marrying the villain. Marrying the villain, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Marrying him and no one would come to save her.
Sometimes being a hero means saving the whole world except yourself.
✨️Timeskip✨️
Sure enough, the villain was there in a tailored suit, in front of his house her new prison, where he'd told her to show up, the officiator standing with a solemn expression on his face.
The villain wasn't supposed to be handsome, the dark brown hair she was normally used to seeing messy and caked with blood slightly damp with gel and mostly hanging in loose, luscious waves, his eyes a dazzling green-blue, long, dark lashes framing them in a way that put the best kinds of kohl to shame and his cheekbones sharp and high-set, the split on his lip hardly distracting from the rest of his appearance. It was so unbelievably stupid, so inconsequential, and yet the hero hated him even more for his tantalisingly beautiful features, for the way his grin would've fooled her into thinking he truly was in love, if she didn't notice how it didn't reach up to his eyes.
The hero hadn't paid any mind to whatever the officiator had said until it was her turn to say 'I do', flashing the villain a terribly fake smile that wasn't half as charming as his, but it would have to do as she slid a simple platinum ring on his finger, and he slid a diamond ring onto hers.
"Let's go," the villain said when they were finally done, gently taking the hero's gloved hand in his and leading her up the stairs and into the mansion.
The heroine was not one to admit defeat and snap in half in the fashion that a twig would. Many a battle would need to be lost for a victory in the war, many a sacrifice would have to be made for a greater reward. She would take the pain like stone would take a blunt pickaxe, just to twist a knife in the villain's chest when he least expected. Because history forgets everyone but those who laugh the last.
Tagging for this: @hufflepuffwritingstuff2
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rroechan · 1 month
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MORTIS
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niceboyeds · 1 year
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Eddie is a snoop. not purposely, he just gets distracted easily and finds himself looking through random drawers or cupboards. however when you stepped out of your bedroom for a minute, he got bored… and a little curious. he didn’t mean to find your vibrator, but he did. and… he did mean to turn on, the toy buzzing powerfully in his hand. he mumbles out a “woah.” as you walk through the door, a smile forming on your face as you see him look at the purple silicone. “find something cool?” he jumps at the sound of your voice, a pink glow present on his cheeks. “i—i uh…” he stumbles over his words, instantly regretting his urge to snoop through your things. “well, if you like it… maybe we could use it together?” he gives a hesitant nod in return. “lay back, pretty boy.” you smirk at him, taking the toy from his hand and climbing on top of him. the two of you weren’t going to get much sleep tonight…
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