#{verse tag pending}

[soulsbetrayed]

"Seriously, wasn't the whole demon swordsmith thing just a rumor spread by Tokugawa Ieyasu to cover his ass after his relatives got themselves killed by their stupidity and mishandling of them" the Pseudo Servant asked as she flexes her fingers.

[nightmarebound]

@trxvelingnightmxre​ said:  " i was born to privilege , and with that comes responsibility . "( hornet to whomever . )

     “ . . . YOU WERE, WEREN’T YOU? ”  it is hard to miss the way the halfling carries herself; harder to miss the crawling sense of divinity within. god-vessel peers down at her with somber curiosity; how young. surely not much older than hallownest itself  —  or what remained, anyway. grimm hums.  “ i see him in you. his POWER. ah, you’ve grown  —  i’m sure you must remember me, though i was not around for very long when you were small. why else would you be here? ”

     AH  —  he’s beginning to RAMBLE. that won’t do; he must always be the most dignified in the room. the weaverling may have CLASS, but NOT SO MUCH as his own. it is easier to think about that, rather than the miserable state in which he’d left the kingdom that first time. how pitiful, that one of the wyrm’s children would see to guarding the remnants of it. such a kingdom deserved to be forgotten — it was forfeit from the start.

     “ i know well the chains of responsibility, ”  he murmurs, drawing himself up.  “ it is a solemn thing to carry. do you ever do anything for yourself? ”  

[erthlyheavn]

"My! Bakugo-kun sure is rather opinionated."

[yyamask]

that undead guy running your local tourist trap

[thesealingarrow]

"With the autumn coming, there's sure to be an influx of wildlife that ordinarily would remain underground to keep cool."

[musehotpot]

@asparkleofmuses said: ‘ i think you’re due for a haircut. ’ - Kushina @ Minato

He looks up with a surprised look on his face before he reaches up to run a hand through his unruly spikes. He lets the strands fall through his fingers until he reaches the ends and realizes just how long his hair really has grown in the last few months.

They'd been on the move for weeks now, only staying in place long enough to earn enough money to keep food in their bellies. But now that they've finally decided to stay put for a little while in a small village on the edge of the Land of Fire. It was rural enough that they should be safe for a little while there.

"I think you're right," he says with a small chuckle, letting his hand fall back to his side and then walks around to stand behind his wife, arms wrapping around her waist as he rests his chin on top of her head.

"Want to trim it for me after dinner?"

[shadovan]

Astarion’s eyes were as glowing orange as the rest of Cazador’s spawn. His sclera, black. It meant the spawn was recently given a command. His body moved of its own accord against any type of will he may possess. The ashen pallor of his face tainted by blood. He listed to one side when he walked. A stumble before righting himself. Tareque would know him as Cazador’s ‘favorite’. The one whose screams often resounded throughout the palace.

And the lich was blocking the doorway of where he needed to go. “The master beckons me to his side. Move, would you?” Astarion’s voice broken and browbeaten this evening. Perhaps a lot to do with how he really wasn’t present in his own mind. He’d just come from servicing one of Cazador’s acquaintances.

@apalestar Dik.

His first reaction to the sight of stumbling. He put a hand out to aid him, then second-guessed his own actions. Tareque glanced over his shoulder, as if checking to make certain Cazador wasn't shadowing the two of them to some degree -- Not that he had anything scandalous in mind. For once.

The lich drifted backwards in the air, eyeing Astarion with a combination of curiosity and concern. He had seen this one around before; Cazador seemed to hold him in very high regard, though Tareque had never inquired as to why. Nor did he assume he would be given the honest answer even if he did ask.

"Right... Of course." A pause, followed with hesitation. "Would you... like some assistance?" He finally questioned, drifting backwards to make room for Astarion to pass by. He sincerely doubted it would be accepted; he could see that orange glow of compulsion and it was enough to make him inwardly sigh.

Regardless of what entertainment he found in keeping company with Cazador, ignoring the fact that most of the vampire lord's vicious deeds left Tareque entirely unphased in the apathy that lichdom granted him, he still loathed to see people actually leashed into mental servitude for amusement or selfish purpose.

Gold eyes skimmed Astarion and he drew a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to him with a whisper, gesturing to the blood. "For your face, poppit."

[soulsbetrayed]

//Servant AU Angelica is rattling in my head. And because of the way rumors and public perception sculpts a Servant's appearance and attributes in certain cases she'd carry Roland's perception filter mask because due to public belief that they were the same individual.

//Other than she is a fairly capable Assassin-class Servant despite her relative age compared to the rest of the Servants severely putting her at a disadvantage despite her infamy and status as one of the more renown Color Fixers

[erthlyheavn]

I genuinely think this would be Liv and Lyla's dynamic in my Lyla's Doc Ock verse.

Inspired by this amazing fanart.

[infernal-matriarch]

Charlie tried to ignore the red mist surrounding her, and how familiar it felt to the red mist she was sure saw in her dream, or was it a hallucination? Maybe a bit of both.

She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes at his words.

No takebacks, princesa...

She knew that, but now that he said it himself only hammered the harsh reality was that what she was doing couldn't be undone. It would be absolutely final.

Charlie reminded herself one last time she was doing this for Angel. As long as he could be free then this would all be worth it. He deserved to be happy in his afterlife.

Opening her eyes, red had now bled into her vision, her horns growing from her head, now in her half-transformed state in emphasize the seriousness of her decision. She looked at the glowing, gold paper and feather quill. Grabbing the quill, she looked towards Valentino, determination written across her features.

"I understand." She looked back towards the paper and pressed the quill to the dotted line.

Charlotte Morningstar

Valentino gasped in surprise, widening his eyes with the offer Charlie just gave him. He knew she would try something to get Angel out of the deal, but something this big wasn't on his mind.

"Reaaly ~~?" He asked with a devilish smirk rapidly growing on his lips, the smoke seemed to embrace Charlie. Long tendrils of red mist gently but quickly surround the princess. "A soul for a soul?"

The overlord uncrossed his legs, placing both hands on the table, salivating with all the possibilities that were twirling inside his head.

"You know this contract is forever binding. No takebacks, princesa."

The overlord didn't want to say too much, in case she changed her mind, quickly making up a golden piece of paper to appear on top of the desk.

By signing this contract. The soul bearer gives up on the entirety of their soul to Valentino.

In exchange for their soul, the entirety of the soul of Anthony, also known as Angel Dust will be freed from Valentino.

This contract is final and follows any law of Soul Contracts.

The paper floats in front of Charlie, a piece of feather floating near it.

"Angel soul, for yours. The deal is simple."

[erthlyheavn]

Vanilla Sunday Meme

@infinitelycomplexpuzzles said: Is your muse the big spoon or the little spoon? For Liv!

"I'm a knife-"

"She's the little spoon~!"

"-LYLA!"

"What? I'm right, aren't I?"

[mxthbladed]

@holyfurnace said: Royalty AU - Marriage Law - every royal must marry a commoner chosen by the advisor to keep the bloodlines clean (for Emily and Vaggie) Arranged Marriage Prompts

Of anyone that could've been chosen for the marriage law, she was the last person she could've thought of as being chosen. Yet, here was the royal guard, standing at her parents' door, asking for her to come with them as Princess Emily's chosen bride. As she was taken away, Agata glanced back to see her siblings at the window of their little cottage.

Once in the carriage and on the way to the castle, her heart was pounding. A woman in the carriage started to talk to her but Agata's thoughts were racing and she could only really listen, rather than speak in turn. As the woman said, when they arrived, Agata was immediately taken to a bath and scrubbed before being dressed in a beautiful gown, her hair being drawn up into an elegant bun. Once she was presentable, Agata was guided to the throne room and instructed to bow before Emily.

"Your highness, we have brought forth your bride from the village."

Agata's gaze raised hesitantly from the ground, glancing up to catch a proper look at Emily.

[malkaleh]

Tudor What If: Anne Boleyn Has Sons

‘The birth of her first son Thomas and then four more boys (and two more daughters) changed history and changed the course of the world.’

[veloriaharmonia]

@honkaisteinrail

It had been early evening when Chessa got the call to come to the Outer Ring to treat a group attacked by bandits. It wasn't anything new for her, since she was one of the few willing to go out there who didn't already live out there, though she was told she'd need to keep things discreet.

Didn't need to tell her twice. She did recognize the women as she treated their wounds and checked for head injuries, but it wasn't her place to mention it.

Other than maybe a quick text to Tempera. But he could keep a secret, too.

She stayed in town after treating them, just talking with the locals and waiting to see how things went. When she spotted Lighter with one of them (and another nearby) she could see him saying something, then pointing to her and heading off on his way.

"How ya feeling?"

[vinzred]

new thinblood malkavian boy Tag Wilson

[shadovan]

Rules and regulations. Of course. How could he have expected any less? When it was necessary for his own well-being, Tareque was capable of abiding to local laws, at least for a time, yet it dulled his mind and sanity if the routine grew stale. No matter how tempting that smirk on Strahd's face was.

"That all sounds remarkably tedious and annoying. But... fine. I packed a lunch, anyhow." His soul jar still contained a hearty amount from one of the clusters of forest goblins he had encountered some time ago. Fortunately, it didn't seem to make a difference if the essences he fed into it came from a kobold or an archmage.

With a resigned sigh, he reached into the pouch on his belt, sorting through the contents for a moment before his fingertips found what he sought, a small glass ball, hollow and filled with some variety of swirly red smoke. For the small amount of pockets and pouches he wore, the lich was still frequently prepared with items of varying sorts.

"Pocket study," he explained, showing the item so no one could accuse him of anything more ill-intent or devious. "Just point me in the direction of where I can set up and all my services belong to you, it would seem." How Strahd took that remark would be up to him.

The lich could whine and lodge his complaints all it desired. Strahd had set his terms. Knew precisely what he wanted out of this arrangement. It kept the lich close. Permitted him to keep an eye on him. Azalin's encounter left him weary and cautious to his kind. Power hungry things.

Whiny little thing. No matter. Even a lich had it's uses. Outsiders added some spice to a very long existence.

The Baron smirked. He needed no compliment to know how handsome he was. The pants were well fitted for a reason. To lure and stroke captivation in his guests. "As flattering as you think you are, I will choose my attire based on my desires, not your visual pleasure." Whether he would be interested in what Tareque was suggesting he left lingering in the air between them.

"You have whatever it is on offer in my library." His journals and manuscript currently not within her wall. No, he kept them closer. In the bed chamber he kept above ground; not the one he slept in. But one meant to entertain his... dalliances. "I might be able to entertain your conjectures with my own."

"While here, you are expected to obey my laws. The people of Barovia nor the Vistani whom travel here are to be your meal, lich. I am nothing if but a fair and just ruler of my lands. You shall be no exception whilst a guest in my home." There was more than a threat there. There was a promise.