HALOOWEENENE

totenkopfe ❤

[Gender-neutral]

[900+ words]

Description: Being a god is hard when you're not the one with power. As you ponder this, a certain god comes to chat. (Dream x Reader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

You spread your fingers wide, feeling the familiar curls of magic spread over your mortal form, encompassing it in more power than a normal mortal could handle. The withering grape vines held delicately in your hands come back to life, bright green leaves embued with your power blessing whoever decided to use them with the finest wine for years to come.

And as it always did when you used your magic to save your lifeblood, another god came to see who was messing with his.

"You again," Dream said, their mask fixed over their pointed nose, ever-calm and regal. "This is the fifth time this hour?"

"These are new and they are so weak. I must save their vineyard, they supply my biggest followers." You cast another hand to a few weak vines, thumbing a crumbling leaf between your fingers as it's too far gone death decays once more. "The nation is suffering from X-dee's happiness, for it has not stormed in many a night. If this goes on even the child cannot sing these plants better."

"I suppose that is true," The overseer of death looks upon the rows of decaying life and they sigh. They lift their own hand above yours, resting softly on top of yours as he pushes his magic into the air. For all the mortals' cries, Dream is not the god of death. He is the overseer and he is the judge but he is still fair and he is kind. The plant hums beneath your finger, back to life easier than it's known in weeks. "The mortals do not deserve your kindness, O'estatic one. They are greedy and one day they will mark their own end."

"And one day, albeit far later than theirs, so will we," You flip your hand to press your palm to his, sharing the most emotions in the easiest way godhood allowed. "We are not all-lasting as Chaos or Order, we are simply here as long as humans will it so. And not all humans are thieves or scoundrels, and not all thieves are scum amongst angels. As most humans are, I've found them to be complex."

You turn to your plants, sighing as you trail a vine. "Such fickle things, letting such irrationality guide their lives for so long, letting fear and indecisiveness plague their thought when if they thought to ration, would find people do not simply hate them for breathing. For what reason for plants if not humans to enjoy them, a fine wine such as the ones we lay to be created may never be tasted and appreciated because the right person decided for everyone else that nobody wanted them. I find that they are horrible things, but not for their own vile acts, but for the ones coming from a wrongfully good place."

"I haven't had such time to think like that," Dream admits, coming to your side. Here, so close to you, he tips the mask back from his face. Such opposing foes as yourselves, to think of each other as so close. Their lips are parted ever so slightly, his gaze focused on nothing as his mind runs.

"I only ever have time," You sigh, fixing the gold bands on your wrists. "You run a kingdom, I run a vineyard. Time is not something you come about sparingly, not without reason."

"So what is your reason?" Dream turns to you, his human-like freckles standing out amongst pale skin. It was always ironic to you, how someone who looked so human was so disconnected from them. The thought never lingered long,  drowned out by prayers from newly-wed wives asking to be blessed with child or for drunkards for the best wine, sometimes even from the occasional person questioning their gender and pleading for advice from the god known as their patron. "Surely a god as kind as you would have loyal followers."

You shake your head ruefully. "The drought has either killed them all away or shown the ones whose faith had always been waivered. When I showed no help in ending it, even if only for it being out of my control, they had chosen their stance and switched patronage." Now your time was filled with visiting your still loyal followers, as few and far in between as they were. Laying small blessings upon the bastard child's head for green thumbs and fixing a quick wine for the laboured mother who wished for a break.

Dream frowned, emotions so humane they were written like scriptures upon his face and detailed in his eyes curve and forehead wrinkles. "I apologize, O'estatic one. I had not thought of how the drought might've affected the ones still based here."

"It is my hometown," You shake your head even if Dream does not understand the meaning behind your words. "Perhaps I was not raised here but my mother's blood spilt on these holy grounds for me to be born godly. I will bless these as my home for as long as the land remains."

"I'm aware," Dream shakes his head although he does not argue. Fixing a gentle stare over the vineyard, he extends his arm to you. "Our work has been done for today though. Come for a visit to my kingdom. It has been a while since our last dinner."

"Alright," You place your hand gently on his forearm and like a godly voice had not saved these plants, disappeared within a gentle breeze of wind.

{《☆》}

[YOOOOOO I'm tired but I literally can't sleep lol I just watched ranboo's phasmophobia stream with bilzo and this one long af dnd video with Slmcc and I'm basically on the equivalent to drugs rn (/j)]

[I really don't have anything to say except my back freaking hurttsssss]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

Bitches stay crying about missing sands of time

It's me I'm bitches.

I'm in cheese cake factory without headphones I legally can't watch Tommy 'loudmouth' Innit pleeeease send help :((

I need something to distract me from finals

fanfic end of the year asks

since it’s december, i thought i’d make a little end of the year ask meme for fanfic writers and readers! reblog and ask away

favorite fic you wrote this year

least favorite fic you wrote this year

favorite line/scene you wrote this year

total number of words you wrote this year

most popular fic this year

least popular fic this year

longest completed fic you wrote this year

shortest completed fic you wrote this year

longest wip of the year

shortest wip of the year

fandom you enjoyed writing for the most this year

favorite character to write about this year

favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

a fic you didn’t expect to write

something you learned this year

fic(s) you completed this year

fics you’ll continue next year

current number of wips

any new fics to start next year

number of comments you haven’t read

most memorable comment/review

events you participated in this year

fics you wanted to write but didn’t

favorite fic you read this year

a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

number of favorites/bookmarks you made this year

favorite fanfic author of the year

longest fic you read this year

shortest fic you read this year

favorite fandom to read fic from this year

*feel free to specify fandoms or a fic depending on the question.

❤ Shampoo Shopping

[1200+ words]

(He/him pronouns)

Description: You're running out of Shampoo when someone collapses in the same aisle. Who knew they were going to be pretty? (George x Reader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

You stare at the white bottle, the tiny black words practically blind to you. When was the last time you went shopping? It was an abhorrent thought because ew, social interaction. But sadly, because of your isolation, you've lost all skill at shopping.

You're just standing there,, considering the benefits of a classic Dove shampoo. It's not 2 in 1, so it's probably fine. You throw it in your trolley and head off towards conditioners.

The bottles are all so colourful over here, you noticed almost instantly. You don't have much time to notice, though. Not when a fellow shopper at Tesco's suddenly collapses. Their head bounces off the wall as they start sliding down, trolley bumping into yours.

You blink. "Uh...?" Hesitantly walking over, you poke the man in the arm. They move slightly, to your utter relief. You can't imagine what you would've done if they had just died. That would not have looked good to be caught poking a dead body.

"Sir?" You try, to no result. They are limp, their cart a few feet away from them. Slowly, you reach over and pull their head onto your lap so you can check them over.

There isn't any blood that you can find, sifting your fingers around his scalp. So it's likely just gonna be a heavy headache. You still take a second to brush a finger over the area as a sort of condolence. They shift under your hands, pressing themselves closer to the hand.

Wow. They seem almost as touch starved as you.

You pull your hand away from their fluffy brown hair and consider ways to wake someone. You saw once on the American Office that Dwight held the nose and mouth closed to wake someone up. You also experienced it once when your delightful sister tested it on you.

Maybe not then.

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, you didn't have to think much longer when your sleeping beauty slowly blinked. You almost thought you heard then mumble pretty before your situation registered.

"What the–!" You flinched away as they scrambled back. "Who are you–!"

"Er, Y/N? I'm sorry it's just, you had collapsed and– and, I dunno?" You flailed awkwardly. They nodded along, just as awkwardly. Their pretty eyes were slightly teary as they rubbed at the back of their head. "Are–, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm just–, well, colourblind so–, uh..." They grimace at their own odd explanation. "My eyes are sensitive and it doesn't usually make me pass out but today was just unlucky."

You wince. You couldn't imagine how hard that must be. Your cousin dealt with minor colourblindness, but never to the extent of passing out. You never even knew it could get that bad.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay, uh–?" You flustered yourself, realizing you don't even know their name. "... mate?"

They blinked at you for a second before bursting into laughter. You couldn't contain your own laugh, feeling oddly charmed by the stranger.

"My name is George." They give you a small grin, which lights up their face. You give a small, flustered squeak to which they thankfully ignore.

"I'm glad you're okay, George."

"Thank you for, well, trying to help," George awkwardly laughed. "Sorry you had to see me like that though."

"Oh no! You're fine. I mean, who wouldn't help?" You fiddled with a loose thread on your sweater.

The pretty brunet shook his head, "Still, thanks."

"I mean," You licked your strangely dry lips. Now wasn't a good time to look half-dead, you realized. "I get that this might be awkward and you can totally say no but—, uh, can I get your nunber?"

George flushed red, turning their face away. "S–sure."

{《☆》}

"Are you still thinking about Shampoo Boy?" Your sister asked, leaning against her palm. She was talking on the phone with one of her friend's cousins as she made dinner, but it seems she caught onto your moping.

"I don't know what to say." You bemoaned. Life is so unfair. Why did all your braincells have to die with your social skills. "What did you say to get your boyfriend?"

Your question was towards Sam's phone, which hummed for a second. Sam handed it off to you, excusing herself to grab a cup of water.

"Well, when I realized I liked Jackie I just talked to him. Like a normal person."

"Oh God, you're useless." You cry, hiding your face in your arms. "I can't just talk to him. You don't get it! George is so pretty and– agh—!"

Sam raised an unamused brow, the empty cup still dripping lonely drops of water. "Are you done? Good, you were getting annoying."

"I hate you," You absoloutely mean your words. Sulking to your room, you frowned at your phone. George's contact was saved under "George ❤" and yet you couldn't find the confidence to actually text him anything. Why was existing so hard?

You lean back on your bed, teasing your lip between your teeth. Chewing on it as you started drafting a message. Immediately, you deleted it all. And started writing again, and deleted again, and writing again.

Curse stupid, stupid social anxiety. Locking you into a stalemate of not wanting to say too much and not wanting to say too little. You've technically had a mini text already. So that George actually had your number you sent it to him there with your name and a compliment, your sister always said that everyone loved compliments.

He responded back after giving you the goofiest smile. A simple hi but with your own special compliment.

Maybe you could compliment him again. He had good fashion taste, maybe you could compliment his sweater. Or would that be too weird? Agh!

Your solace came from someone you least expected.

George. Your screen bubbled up with "..."s as George started writing something horribly long. You waited, clutching your phone between both hands.

Hi!

I hope you're not busy but I just wanted to thank you again for helping me ba

Back at the store*

Sent too early

I'm sorry

You pull your phone close to your neck, pressing the top to your lips in a silent panic. How badly you want to kick your feet and squeal like a kid with a crush. Okay, Step 1) Answer him like a normal person. Step 2) ... marriage? Step 3) Profit.

Totally reasonable and not at all made up on the spot.

Youre absoloutely fine

No need to apolgize* not like youre fine fine

Well you are good looking but I wasnt

I'm going to stop now

Thanks I think?

And uhm

You're good looking too

So

... I'm sorry

No please do not apologize

I think we're just both really awkward

Let me start over

Please

Okay

George I think you're really pretty and I would like to ask you out on a date if that's alright with you

If not you can totally block me like I'm so sorry

No you're perfectly good

I would love to go on a date

With you

Specifically

... I'm sorry

I never thought I'd get this far

Uh cool so I can pick you up at 7 this Saturday

If that's good with you ofc

That's amazing

I'll see you this Saturday

...

By the way I think I have your shampoo

{《☆》}

[I posted this on Wattpad like 2 days ago but Merry Christmas Eve, another post is going to come out soon so bye for now!]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

💜 DAY 6 OF MONSTER WEEK — MERMAID NIKI

[900+ words]

[Gender-neutral]

Description: You're a pirate and while you're plundering some loot, you come across a mermaid.

[Read the rest under the cut]

Since you can remember, all you've known is the sea. You were born on a pirate ship during the worst storm your parents have ever sailed through. Cradled roughly in its waves, you never cried even when the saltwater mist burned everyone's eyes.

Your mothers said that your third mother was the sea, just as she was the mother to every pirate who sought refuge in her tides. When your mothers retired from their captain and first-mate position, they left the ship and crew to you and your first mate, Wilbur.

You are the youngest pirate, and especially the youngest captain, to ever grace the sea, and you bear that title with pride. You spend as little time on land as possible, finding it as unsettling as sea-sick people find the sea.

That's why it's almost ironic that the first time you met a mermaid face-to-face was on land. Somehow, two sea creatures (you proudly claim that title, thank you very much) managed to meet on land before in the sea, funny innit?

You had to stay on land longer than you'd've liked to get some ship repairs, which luckily your first mate was handaling for you, so you had lots of free time. Deciding for no real reason to explore, you had managed to wonder into a rather seedy looking nerighbourhood.

While walking you passed a certain house with expensive drapery framing the windows and you can instantly tell that whoever lives there is richer than they seem. And that in itself is a sign for some illegal happenins and it just so happens that your favourite people to steal from are fellow criminals.

You managed to pick the lock to the front door and within minutes you've managed to pick a good number of prime sellers to pocket. Someone opens up the door when you're heading down their basement so you take the opportunity to book it further down and that's when you come face to face with a mermaid.

"Do you need help?" Those were the first words you'd said to her after finding her locked in a fish tank in some poacher's home. The question was admittedly stupid, but you had just been caught mid-robbery and you're known to be "fish-brained" as Wilbur calls it.

She can't answer, or maybe you just can't hear her, but you pry the tank open anyways because you wouldn't be able to live with yourself it you left a fellow child of the sea to die. When the lid pops off, she uses impressive upper arm strength to pull herself up and knock the tank on its side. She looks at it and smacks her tail into it, shattering the class instnatly and leaving her with a curled lip, proudly smirking like she had won some battle.

You have only about three seconds to admire her very pretty coral-pink scales ad even more impressive arm muscles before the owner of the house you're robbing bursts through the door.

You're still holding the fish tank lid and waste no time in smacking him in the face with it, spreading the shattered glass across the floor.

The mermaids obvious strength is brought back to attention as she handstands her way towards the man. They groan, trying to gather their strength and sit up. Immediately her tails slams down on his back with a crack and she starts smacking the shit out of him with her tail until some of his teeth fall loose and you're sure he won't be able to walk the same again.

The mermaid looks over at you and thankfully recognizes an ally when she seas one. You prop the door open and offer a hand, unsure whether she'd like help going up the stairs or if she's capable of that too.

She accepts your help after a moment, though she doesn't seem the least bit threatened by you which us slightly insulting. You're out the house and standing by the ocean is a process that feels way too long. Although by your standards, any time away from the ocean is too long.

The mermaids slips into the sea and you waver her away with a smile.

{《☆》}

Niki, the mermaid, ends up following your ship. She declined to talk to most of your crew but Wilbur did have some more luck, managing to learn her name even before you.

It's weird how quickly all of you had gotten used to her presence. Shexfelt a bit like a good luck charm too, since storms settled easier when she was around.

Today she swims circles around your boat, where you're stuck aimlessly floating as there's no air to guide the ship. Only very, very extreme heat.

"It's sweltering today," Niki says, fins creating a little wake in the water as they swished back and forth along the side of the ship. "The sun must really beat down up there. Especially when you're at the helm steering all day."

You prop one boot heavily atop the bulkhead, leaning one elbow on your knee to peer over the edge and into her sea foam eye's. "You know if you want me to go swimming with you and Wil, you really need to confirm whether or not you plan to drown me. Again."

"I never drowned you," Niki protests, elbowing Wilbur to agree with her. "But I would like you to swim with us, yes."

"Yeah, Cap," Wilbur nods, smiling mischievously. "Unless you're too chicken."

You narrow your eyes at Wilbur, "I know what you're doing and it won't work on me."

"I can't believe our darling Captain was such a scaredy cat," Wilbur taunts while staring you directly in the eyes, "Afraid of a little water."

"Alright that's it," You rip your shirt off, barely remembering to take your shoes off, before diving into the ocean. Wilbur cheers the entire time you fall and catches a mouthful of salt water.

"C'mon you little shit, I'll drown you and we'll see how you like it," You're smiling the entire time though. It's so much more natural being in the sea than even being on a boat. And it does help that you're with two of your favourite people.

{《☆》}

[I hate life it is so late I ruined my sleep schedule and my computer died halfway through writing this but damnit I finished anyways. Anyways I'm going to sleep before I critically murder myself further, thanks for reading.]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Monster Week Prompt List

Taglist: @creatorofstars

Double, Double Toil And Trouble ❤

Request (kinda) by @shroombby : "HEAR ME OUT. witch!origin!reader who makes potions for wilbur to help with his weakness to the sun?"

[They/Them]

[1000+ words]

Description: You're just a witch and he's just a (phantom) boy. Can I make it any more obvious?

[Read more under the cut]

{《☆》}

You were a very powerful person. A witch origin whose veins were flooded with magic and whose hands were born calloused to brew. You were born to be trouble and that is what made you dangerous.

With just one potion of strength on you, you could massacre half of the origins in a minute. Maybe less. And with the next long period of time your skills gave you, the rest could be dead too. And that was half the fun, leaning across the thin line of life and death.

Most of the other origins didn't seem to realize what being a witch truly meant.  Physically, you were like a human. But when you brewed, the world sang. And when you laughed, the mountains shook. Effecting the world and its inhabitant is why witches existed.

Chaos was purely what you decided to take away from existing. Why live if you weren't going to have some excitement.

Although one, admittedly adorable, phantom boy was likely a dozen times more chaotic than you ever strived to be. He was unhinged, Wilbur was. A dirty crime boy and a heathen to society.

Poor Wilby though stuck indoors because of his own biology. Burned by sunlight, like a vampire.

"Please! Y/N, I just want to go out in the sun like a regular person." Wilbur grovelled at your feet, an adorable pout on his face as he begged.  It was slightly enjoyable watching him hug your leg like a toddler. "Please make me a potion!"

"There hasn't even been a potion made for this type of thing, let alone altering a potion for phantom hybrid consumption. That stuff is dangerous since you're like half air." You pointed out, patting him on the head as you slowly trudged across the Pub(e). "I love ya, Wil, but you can deal with this on your own. Don't die though."

Wilbur sniffed dramatically, still holding your leg hostage. "I will die out of spite now." Then he gave a pitiful whine, "Please, darling!"

"Let go of me." You tried to get away, but sadly your sugar was clinging like a leech. "I'm not doing it so-! EW LET GO! WIL, STOP-!"

You spent the better half of three hours being pestered by your boyfriend before you gave in.

{《☆》}

Creating potions from scratch took hours. Long and boring hours of watching water boil and turning blaze rods into a thin powder in your mortar and pestle. Getting Redstone in your hair and losing yourself to the process. It was addicting when you got into it. The constant movement and the power that hummed under the dirt when you brewed. Like the world was waiting for a rampage or a disaster.

It was a paranoid process to many witches, as many told you when you still lived in a coven. Knowing that the earth was watching like it knew something they didn't. But you had never felt it the same way. Because the earth moulded under your fingertips willingly so why fear it.

And when someone interrupted your process, it was much more than mildly irritating.

"What?" You grumbled, wiping Redstone dust off. "I was busy."

"That's the problem," Wilbur whined, looking like a kicked puppy as he stood on your doorstep. "I haven't seen you in days! I miss you."

"You asked me to make this potion, Wil." You pointed out, still softening at his words. "I'll still need another day or two before I have it perfect though. We can hang out after."

Wilbur pouted, sulking in his phantom form as the sun started setting. When you did finish the potion, he wouldn't need to be see-through. You were doing this for him. "Take a break! Hang out with me. Please?"

Grimacing, you realized that he knew exactly what he was doing. Wilbur's eyes shone with a plead, wide and begging. Damn him for knowing your weakness to his puppy eyes. "Fine. But it has to be under an hour or else I'll have to reset the entire potion."

Wilbur grinned, nodding rapidly. Stepping in, you took off your apron. Setting it down next to the cauldron, you met a solid Wilbur on the steps. He took your hand in his, racing off in an untouched direction and pulling you along with him.

Laying under the stars, bodies pressed close as a chill wind blew past, you wondered what your coven would've thought about Wilbur.

{《☆》}

With multiple bottles of your new phantom-proof potions,  you handed one off to Wilbur nervously. Stepping back, you held a water bucket tightly. This could go horribly wrong and kill Wilbur or you could have successfully made a new brand of potion. Only one way to find out.

"This will really suck if I die." Wilbur joked before he took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut before he took a large swig and opened them hesitantly. He wasn't blue or some other abhorrent, unnatural shade. No polka dots or stripes, he looked perfectly normal. Or, mostly.

His eyes glowed with a shimmering golden rim, like a fire in his eyes or like sun glinting down on them. You grinned widely,  this was good so far.

"Alright, now go. Step out." You encouraged, still holding one hand around the bucket's handle. "I'm right here for you, sugar."

Wilbur nodded, a weight unfurling in his chest. A single foot forward, and the sun bounced off of Wilbur's face, lighting it up and showing off the unnatural paleness that usually came with phantom's and their allergies to the sun. But now he could feel its warmth settling against his skin and it didn't burn.

"You're amazing," he breathed out, turning towards you. A joy that you've never seen before, childish and adoring and absolutely in love. Wilbur stepped forward, taking your hands in his and kissing the knuckles. "So amazing, darling."

You giggled, turning your head as he started pressing kisses to your entire face. Tilting his head slightly, Wilbur smiled fondly. "I love you."

"I love you too," you said, standing there with Wilbur.  Simply basking in the sun. Like you could do now.

{《☆》}

[F r o g]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Bloody Lovers ❤

(1100+ words)

(They/Them Pronouns)

Description: You run a very illegal business. An up and coming rookie hero names "Kitsune" is messing things up though. You're interested in him, so you leave for your very own look at them. (FundyxReader)

(Warning: Very dubious consent relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, and kidnapping. The relationship in this is unhealthy.)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

You scan the report, taking in every place where your workers got interrupted. There were quite a few disruptions, which you'd have to take up with them. You couldn't allow them to keep repeating mistakes with such high profile work at risk.

Of course, you do realize a few of them were uncontrollable on their part. A new hero, a skilled rookie as far as your quick search could find, going by the name "Kitsune" was to blame.

A suitable name, you muse. What, with their foxy features. And of course, the ears and tails that you assumed were apart of their powers also helped the name. The hero had been relentless and ruthless.

So unlike a hero.

It was altogether intriguing. A hero unafraid to get their hands, or paws in their case, dirty. You smiled, thoroughly amused. This hero, an apprentice to Willow themselves, was just as interesting as you had hoped.

Maybe it was time to get out on the streets again. It has been so long since you've wondered from your luxurious throne but perhaps this could be worth it.

You laughed, staring down at the paperwork with a confident smile. You can't wait to get Kitsune's blood on your hands.

{《☆》}

They screamed beneath you, the terrified glint in their eyes feeding your bloodlust. A wayward mugger had chosen you as their next victim. Helpless and unaware of their oncoming demise. You laughed wildly, dragging a knife down their arm.

You could rip them apart, limb by limb now if you pleased. But where was the fun in that? Why would you end it there when things could get even more fun.

If your mother was here, she'd scold you for playing with your food. But she wasn't, and so you licked the blood of the knife as they trembled on the ground. Hm, it was a sickly sort. They were probably the type of person with a weak immune system. The disease flowing through their blood, a transmitted type, wasn't helping the sour taste.

"How sad," You mock sighed, like a disappointed parent. "You just had to be a bad apple, didn't you? Who knows, maybe if you had a better taste I would've let you live." They sobbed, begging on choked words.

You know that would never happen, but they didn't. You grinned and they screamed again as you stabbed them between a rib, cutting through their lung. You pulled the knife out and they seemed to choke on their own blood.

Standing, you wiped the blood off on their pants. The hero hadn't shown, and the shouting had been quite loud. Kitsune likely wasn't on duty.

Turning around, you came face to face with a shell-shocked bystander. They looked sick, their face a pretty pale sheet as they backed up. Before they could run, your rinkaku shot out as quick as lighting and wrapped around them. They struggled, and stronger than they looked but you were even stronger.

Smiling coldly down at them, you looked them over. "Why hello there. What is a pretty little thing like you doing here?"

What? They were unfairly pretty. A nice dark shade of red, with a pretty white streak through their hair and wide-eyed dark brown eyes. And maybe the terror in their eyes didn't help, but the rest of them was still pretty.

Maybe you could have another meal to make up for the last one being lacklustre. Grinning, you gave them a seconds warning. "Any complaints on being eaten?" Before cutting a thin slice on their cheek with your knife. They blanched, opening their mouth with a silent struggle.

You shushed them. Licking the blood off the knife, you were overwhelmed with one of the best-tasting blood you've had in a while. You practically moaned, greedily taking it away. They seemed thoroughly disturbed by your reaction, which was fair enough.

And unlike the other meal you had, you almost wanted to keep this one.

"Hm," You considered, gently grabbing their chin. They froze as you turned their face side to side. "I don't see why not. I'll keep you."

"Wha-What?" They spoke their first words to you, a shiny new voice that fits their pretty face. "Let me go! No-! Stop!"

"Hm, no." You said, pressing your knife to their neck. They froze, staring into your eyes with a worryingly calmer look. Certainly, they were interesting. In fact, they reminded you of someone. "Don't worry, you won't die yet."

It didn't seem to relax them, but they were certainly more complacent with the knife at their neck.

{《☆》}

Your newest pet project had taken a while, Kitsune certainly knew how to put up a fight. But you were stronger, both mentally and physically. And now here he was, putty in your hands.

To think you had found him so easily. And that he had such beautifully delicious blood. Truly, your luck was legendary.

"Fundy, darling," You call, beckoning him from his bedroom. He hurries over, almost tripping over himself to get to you. It was an amusing sight when barely a month ago he would be fighting you every chance he had.

You press a hand to his cheek, which he leans into heavily. Fundy places his hand over yours, staring up at you with an adoring look. Tiny cuts littered his body like freckles, but they all showed one thing. That he was yours. These marks showed that. And they'd never leave.

You smile, letting go of him. Quickly, he pulls up a chair and sits close. Fundy practically has your arm in his grasp, leaving you with only your left to do your work. It's slightly annoying but you'd rather have him here with you, stupidly in love in your arms than have him fighting against you.

You'd hate to have to kill him. It'd be an easy decision to make if you had to, but you would still dislike the idea of losing such a great find.

Although with how deeply he's fallen, it's unlikely you'd ever have to risk that. Fundy was so good for you, falling deeper into the rabbit hole with every touch you let linger. So good, in fact, you might start testing that love.

Release him. See if he comes back.

It's a tad bit risky but you know that despite his love for you, he misses his friends. If you let him go back with them for a few hours, you could test his loyalty. It would be so easy to get one of your teleporting workers to fetch him if he decided to stay.

Yes. You would. Picking a knife off the table, you turned to Fundy. With a pleased smile, Fundy gave you his arm. But you wouldn't need that when he was so easy to give. To love. You smiled back.

{《☆》}

[Next post is a Dream post and then I shall disappear for a year /j.]

[L0v3, k1ng]

DOING THIS ON MAIN FOR REACH OR SMTH IG

GO LISTEN TO PEBBLE BRAIN ON YOUTUBE AND ALSO STREAM IT IF ITS OUT WHERE YOU ARE GO GO GO GO

LOVEJOYS EP IS OUT WHOOOOOOO

❤ Darling~

Request by (@) itsnotfire on Wattpad : "Could we get a part two of this where the reader does test Fundy's loyalty please? Also your work is absolutely amazing!" PART 1

[1800 words]

[They/Them pronouns]

Description: Your cute little hero's been homesick. As some quick fun you let him return home for a day :). (Fundy x M!Reader) This is unhealthy. So many things in this relationship are MEANT to be unhealthy. Do not glorify/romanticize these things because they are toxic and illegal.

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

It starts like all good things, with a bang.

Fundy's cooking for you, a hobby he's taken up as weeks with nothing to do have passed by. You can smell it from the study, the lining of cow's blood he mixed in the soup just for you. Fundy's part fox, which means he enjoys raw meat just as much as you, but he's never enjoyed human blood as much as you do. It's sweet for him to add some in, even if it's cows blood.

You're filing down more paperwork, seems some vigilante named Monarch has been raiding your warehouses looking for something or... You chance a glance towards the photo on your desk, a high-quality one of you and Fundy in your background having a picnic. He was laughing when it was taken, beautiful brown eyes pressed closed, cheeks slightly red. You loathed admitting you had gotten a tad attached to the little fox but the thought of someone coming looking for him had your blood boiling.

Then, as you almost snapped your pen in half, a loud bang came from the kitchen alongside a sharp yelp from Fundy. You rushed forward, slightly breathless as you whirled into the kitchen only to find Fundy tearing up, shaking on the floor as boiling soup soaks his clothes.

He looks up at you, shaky lips pressed together to hold sobs in. Without any hesitation he rushes for you, throwing himself into your chest to sob. The soup is a mess on the floor, steam rolling off it and you grimace. You peel him away from you, looking at the mess he's made of himself.

"Oh darling," You coo, reaching up to cup his face. "You're filthy. I bet it hurts, doesn't it."

Fundy nods, sniffling. "I didn't mean to drop it, I swear. It was just so hot and..." he sniffles, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, shh shh, look at me." You wiped tears and soup off his face. "Go run a shower and I'll get someone to pick this up and meet you there."

"Okay," he muttered softly. Glancing back at you, he leaves slowly.

You sigh, turning to the kitchen. It's a burden to pick up yourself so you'll just call someone to do it for you. As you call for a helper, you think back to Fundy's distant behavior. He's been zoning off far more lately and while he's always quick to fix anything he does wrong, today he's... sensitive.

You don't stand around long. After you call them, you're already making quick strides to catch up to Fundy. As you open the door, you catch the sniffling over the pouring of the bath.

Fundy looks over, stripped sown to just his boxers, which miraculously look barely touched. He does brighten up a bit when you enter but it's still diluted in the melancholy.

You strip to your undergarments too, sitting in the large tub with Fundy gladly between your legs, back to your chest. Your little fox greatly enjoys being held, even now that somethings bothering him he's all over you, head tipped back to rest on your shoulder.

"What's wrong darling," You ask gently, pressing soft kisses to his jawline. "You're acting more distant than usual."

"It's nothing just..." He bites his lower lip and looks away with a sigh. "I miss home."

You try to ignore the tension in his body as he asks. It's so off-putting when he gets scared of you. You sigh, thinking back to Monarch's recent break-in to one of your warehouses, trying to find information on Fundy, rightfully assuming you had something to do with it. Maybe... maybe he could visit home.

"If you miss them that badly, you could visit." You suggest casually, though you know the suggestion is anything but to him.

"Really!" Fundy turns, water sloshing out of the tub. He throws his arms around you, "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!"

{《☆》}

"You're not coming along," Fundy asks again, biting his lip.

"I'll be there the entire time, just not by your side." You assure him, reaching up to brush hair from his eyes. He smiles widely at you, relaxing back at your words. He offers his arm to you one more time before you leave. "Not right now, darling. Can't have you looking less than perfect for your family."

Fundy pouts but obeys as obediently as always. You fix his shirt, making sure the hem isn't too roughed up. It's an old shirt but you can't just dress a missing person in a suit and send him back. He has to look somewhat hazardous. As you hold your hand at his collarbone, pressing against it lightly, he tries to smile. "I'll miss you."

"I know you will, darling." You smile, pulling your hand away. Fundy chases it for a second before swaying back in place, stock still just for you. "Now, I can't drop you off but if you ever need me just say the word. I have people ready to teleport us out."

"Y/N..." Fundy hesitates. "How long do I have with them?"

"All day if you're good." You smiled as Fundy squared his shoulders. "Now, let's go before someone wakes up."

You walk Fundy down an empty road, face covered with an cracked obsidian mask, molten gold filling the cracks. He seems anxious as you walk, hand curled into yours. You stop a few blocks before Fundy's previous residence as a precaution, bringing his hand up for a brief kiss before disappearing into the shadows.

The fox turns toward the street that will guide him home, firey red eyes glimmering in the artificial street light. He takes a step forward, and then another. He starts running, hair mused by the wind, feet carrying him faster as his neglected powers crackle with eagerness. As eager to be used again as Fundy was.

You follow behind casually because you already know where he's running. When you catch up, Fundys gasping lightly, hands on his knees as he stares at his old home with wonder. When he gets his breathe back he reaches forward, hands brushing the redwood door adoringly.

After a seconds hesitation and a glance back for you, he knocks. And then knocks faster. There is a distant voice you can hear yelling but Fundy doesn't stop.

"What!" They yell before the sight in front of their eyes catches up to their brain. They reel backwards, hands reaching to hold their mouth. "Fundy...?"

"Dad," he answers back, voice just as wet. He reaches forward and Wilbur wraps his arms around him and lifts him up, breathless. "Dad! Dad, put me down!"

"Where were you," Wilbur says when he puts him down, voice still shocked as he holds Fundy's face between his hands. He can't quite seem to help himself from pulling Fundy back into his arms.

"Nowhere important, Dad," Fundy mumbles into his father's shoulder. You feel something twist uncomfortably in your stomach as you stare at the reunion but it's easy to ignore. "I don't really want to talk about it. Can we just... watch a few movies? We could have that pizza from down the block?"

"Fundy you hate that place," Wilbur says with a small frown, he smoothes it out easily when Fundy just tilts forward with a sigh. "Alright. I'll call them and we can watch Treasure Planet. How'd that feel bud?"

"I'd love that," Fundy says, more relaxed than you've ever seen him. "I really, really would."

The night goes off without a hitch. Wilbur seemed tense but he always let Fundy lie to him and pretend it was nothing. They sit around and eat really cheesy pizza and watch the same movie twice before just talking for another 3 hours. They eat the leftovers of the pizza and Wilbur makes sure to remind Fundy every 5 minutes that he loves him.

When Fundy took a step out the front door, face nostalgic and sad, Wilbur took it in stride. He sweeps Fundy into one last hug, shoulders shaking with repressed tears. When he pulls away, he sets a gentle kiss on Fundy's forehead and says one last time, "I love you."

And Fundy smiles, that sweet and gentle one you had grown to adore, "I know, Dad. I love you too."

He steps away, pausing for a moment like he's rethinking something. With a small shake of his head, he lets go of the hesitation and leaves. You wait, staring right at Wilbur- Willow, you realize now, and his face splits into a soft sob as he falls to his knees.

You turn to follow after Fundy and don't looks back.

{《☆》}

Fundy has been in a higher spirits after his visit home. He seems lighter now that he's been reassured they're okay. It's not really insulting that he thinks you'd hurt them, you've had far worse assumptions made about you. Your mother had thought you the antichrist and tried murdering you as a young toddler, so at least this one was believeable and didn't result in a lifelong scar.

He seemed normal, pressing kisses to your bloody hands when you returned from work, bleeding for you, tracing your claims on his body like he wanted to brand them into his skin. But you never quite managed to get rid of the memory of his willing departure. You had started this with adrenaline coursing your veins, joyful at how much work Fundy was to break, ravishing yourself in his unique blood. Now though, it felt different. There was no game to play now that you knew he was loyal to you, utterly and completely yours.

You flicked through papers from your henchmen who were only reporting minor issues, homeless people breaking into warehouses or vigilantes sniffing around. Ugh, even they had started producing higher numbers. You were undoubtedly the strongest villain in the city and yet— You were incomplete.

"Darling," You call out, lips quirked up as eager footsteps come racing. Fundy waits patiently by the door for you to say something, anything at all. You rack your finger against the desk, nodding him over. As he settles on your lap, hands on your shoulder silently, something feels wrong.

You look back at your desk, staring at the picture of a homeless kid. Their thin white hair is disheveled as they struggled against two of your workers. Their pale blue eyes glare up at the camera, mouth foaming as he likely screams at the worker holding it. He was apparently a homeless kid with an unusually strong superpower who had broken in for a night's rest. You tilt your head at the photo for a second.

Maybe...

You look into Fundy's eyes, a sharp-toothed grin on your face. "How'd you feel about adopting a kid?"

{《☆》}

[Bro this request is from like 3 months ago ;-; I'm so behind on requests. FYI, the next request is for a third (and final part) of the King Eret works and then after that is another Eret request for a sequel to Sweet Summer Sun. If you're a first time reader who doesn't know what the fuck those are, go to the Eret section and have fun!]

[Anyways I'm going to go start that and then I'm going to rewatch Doukyuusei (this really cute mxm story and it's just ahfkahgk!!!) Take care of yourself, you are loved and appreciated and there are things and people and stories waiting for you that you don't even know exist yet so hold on until you get to meet them and then let them help pull you up.]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars

💜 DAY 3 OF MONSTER WEEK — DRAGON TOMMY

[900+ words]

[Gender-neutral]

Description: IN THE FREAKING TITLE. Tommy gets bullied, you help, forced bonding and also pure laziness, all under the cut *jazz hands*!

[Read the rest under the cut]

Things like dragons are widely considered myths, figments of our imagination with room for creative liberty when it comes to details. There are some people, though few and far between, who still believe in them, to an almost feverish degree.

You, like most, are not one of them. You've lived your entire life believing what's right in front of you, not feeling a need to search for some mystical deeper meaning. If it existed, you'd find proof eventually; if it didn't, you didn't care much to begin with.

It was a very flexible worldview. Maybe your open-mindedness for anything, this proof-begets-belief ideal, is why you've found yourself in this situation.

You were on your way to work, walking since you lived fairly close to your veterinary office when you came across of group of young school boys poking roughly at a tiny hissing animal. It looked sickly, bruises and leaves scattered over it and your heart instantly broke seeing its horrible state.

"Hey! Get away from that poor animal!" The second you started yelling, the kids scattered like the mice in the Ratatouille kitchen scene. You were going to chase after them, scold them maybe, when the animal's pitiful crying caught your attention. "Oh, you poor thing."

It cries out in pain when you try, as carefully as you could, to pick it up. You try to comfort it as much as you can, hurrying on your short walk to your office.

Now that you could see it better, it was less like a cat and more like an odd reptile. It felt around the same size as a young kitten but it was scaly, though from far away it seemed more like wet fur, with most of the scales being very, very loose as if someone had tried prying them all away from before it could properly molt.

You cooed at it, trying to one-handed open the doors to your clinic without disturbing the animal too much. "You're okay, bud. We're going to get you all fixed up." It mewled weakly, its tongue flicked at you slowly. "You are very brave right now. The bravest."

You kept very soft-spoken as you disinfected its numerous wounds. It was a very well-behaved animal as if it knew you were only trying to help it. You managed to even wipe most of the dirt off its very beautiful, very leathery texture, and vibrant yellow scaling.

It stretched itself out, curling into a very tightly-wound circle afterward. You took a few minutes to relax after that, knowing things would probably get far less exciting for the rest of the day.

{《☆》}

You were very wrong. The animal has left to leave your side even once, while simultaneously being very rude to all the other animals you've tried to take care of. You've had to close your clinic for the last two days because it almost attacked a very fearless chihuahua.

It wasn't horrible though. it was very cuddly, freely purring every time you pat its scaly back. In fact, it actively sought out contact, very pleased every time you played along.

Things had to change though. You needed to work and you knew you couldn't do that with a mysterious and aggressive animal draping itself over your shoulder at all times.

Surprisingly, you didn't have to be the one to change anything, change very rapidly found you.

{《☆》}

So, there was a strange man in your kitchen. You had woken up in the middle of the night to very loud banging and what sounded like a glass breaking. Looking around now, you could spot the broken handle of your favourite coffee mug.

"Y/N!," The blond intruder chirped happily. He dropped the corpse of your mug in the sink, "I have a human form finally! Look how tall I am!"

Finally breaking out of your shock, you started screaming. Very, very loudly.

Tommy, the blond intruder, managed to explain the entire story to you after surviving a very long 10-minute screaming session, a pair of policemen at your door asking far too many questions, and a mailman. According to him, he was a dragon who had been chased by poachers looking for his scales for some reason, when he had finally escaped the group of schoolboys had started poking at him and only made him weaker.

Apparently, he had siphoned off some of your energy every day, using your pets as a way to steal energy and in the process creating a bond between them that allowed him to take human form. You're still pretty iffy on the details and very much unsure how any of this works but after Tommy proves his story by shifting back into a dragon, you officially had to accept that you were bonded, whatever that meant, to a dragon.

Yay?

"So what now?" You asked because usually in stories, this would be where the call to action is. He would tell you about some evil organization or those dragon poachers would show up and you'd have to accept the mantle of being a hero. Except life isn't a story (wow, meta).

Tommy shrugs, "I'm not sure. I didn't really think I would make it this far into explaining."

"Can I just, go back to my job? Do I have to hide you until the bond goes away?" Tommy laughs at your questions. When you don't laugh with him, he gets far more awkward.

"About that," He rubs at his neck, "it's kinda permanent."

"…"

You lost another two mugs. Tommy has a far greater fear of you though, which helps keep him in check at the clinic.

{《☆》}

[I just wrote this all like 20 minutes ago, if this is bad then sucks to suck I refuse to rewrite this. (Ask again after I've had coffee)]

[Anyways, take care of yourself, drink water, touch some grass, love youuu!]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Monster Week Prompt List

Taglist: @creatorofstars