#'while it may contain a few unfortunate victims

[prettyboyjohnny]

interesting!

[natsarrownecklacx]

Cruelty Is An Art Form

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count- 1,920

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- Minors this fic isn’t for you, Allusion to murder, Dark Mob Natasha, Thigh riding, marking, allusion to non con.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

There is no evil known to mankind worse than Natasha Romanoff. Of this, you are almost certain. 

Sure there are other terrible things that plague the world like famine, natural disasters and horrific diseases, but the difference between Natasha and all of those things is that, when it comes to how they affect people, it isn’t their fault. All of those things are more or less out of our control, and the way they impact people, out of their control. 

Natasha however, is practiced with her cruelty. Each and every ounce of pain and suffering she inflicts is calculated and purposefully. She takes a pride in it that could only be measured to that of a parent towards their child or an artist towards their art.

Usually when a person contains this type of passion for cruelty it would be contained to the unfortunate few people who find themselves in the presence of the evil being who cultivates it. For example serial killers or people with an affinity for torture and their victims.

Sadly this isn’t the case with Natasha Romanoff, who has enough power and influence that her cruelty spans over hundreds if not thousands of people, even if they do not realize it. As the leader of one of the most powerful and dangerous gangs in New York City, Natasha’s control spans just over triple the city's population. 

She is known throughout the underworld of gang leaders as the “black widow”, the name being given to her in recognition of the countless bodies she has left up and down the coast of many cities across the globe. 

No one would dare mess with her, in any way, unless they had a death wish. Even then, unless that person wanted to die in the most slow and torturous ways even the darkest minds could not conceive, they would stay far, far away from her. 

Which is something you’ve, thankfully, managed to do for all twenty years of your life, despite your fathers standing as a rival gang leader in New York. One that, for the past few months, Natasha has been taking territory from.

To Natasha anyone other than herself and the few people of her inner circle are merely ants ready to be squashed under her boot at a moments notice, even purely for her own twisted entertainment. So she did not know, nor did she care, who’s territory she was taking over, nor did she fear any backlash from the unknown ant.

Your father let her behavior slide, for the sake of peace and to avoid the possibility of innocent civilians getting harmed in the crossfire if he were to start a war between his own gang and the widows. 

He has warned you to stay far away from her, away from any territory she deemed her own, in fear that she may recognise you and harm you for the sake of sending a message to not only him but the other leaders in the city. 

So you did as he asked and stayed away, not wanting to cause any problems for your father or anyone else. But how were you to know that while you were on a night out with your friends that the redhead would choose the exact bar you occupied and claim it as her own, killing the previous owner where he sat in his office before strolling her way up to the bar to order herself a glass of vodka.

Natasha sits at the bar, glass in hand as she lazily surveys the room, looking for someone to sate her need for the night, getting her use out of the unwitting victim before killing them.

As she moves her gaze around the room her eyes land on you, a pretty girl on the dance floor moving her hips along to the music in a way that catches Natasha’s attention and stops her mid way raising her glass to her mouth. 

She watches you for a few moments, her darkening eyes drinking in every sway and move of your body as you lose yourself to the music and atmosphere around you, dangerously unaware of the predator approaching. 

Natasha is unaware of who you are and in all honesty, she doesn’t care, her plan for you remains the same. Act like the sweet gentle woman she never will be, convince you to accompany her back to her mansion, use you like a toy until the sun comes up and then discard you like the broken used thing you will be once she's finished with you. 

Natasha approaches you, reaching a hand out to your waist, moving her body against yours to the beat of the music. She treads lightly, not wanting to scare you off before she can get you at least into her car. The idea of making a public scene tonight just seems like an annoying headache for the redhead.

Feeling a feminine body slid in behind you mould to your own does not bother you, even as her hands slid sensually around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You relish in the attention from the unknown woman. 

Natasha drags her lips against the pulse point of your neck causing you to tilt your head back, needing to give her more room. She suctions her lips to your neck, intent on leaving a mark and branding you as hers. Her toy for the night, her slut made to proudly wear her marks. 

You can’t help the moan that quietly spills from your lips at the action, leaning your head back against her shoulder and moving your left hand up to grip the hair on the back of her neck, holding her in place while she leaves her marks on your skin. 

Natasha slides her arms fully around your waist, tightening her hold on you and locking you in place as she slots her thigh between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the action and a whimper follows soon after when the mystery woman whispers “Move your hips, baby” in your ear hotly. 

You do as she says, moving your hips slowly up and down her suit clad thigh. Her warm mouth continues its attack on the delicate skin of your neck, nipping and biting every so often to ensure her marks are clear. 

The whole interaction makes you want to melt against her, melt into her, succumb to the pleasure the woman is bringing you. That is, until she tenses the muscles in her leg, the hard muscle hitting your clit just right in a way that has you moaning out “fuck” and tightening your hold on the redheads hair to the point that you cause her pain. 

Natasha bites down hard on your neck in retaliation, the force of her teeth strong enough to nearly draw blood. 

You gasp and quickly jerk your body away from her. Natasha loosens her hold, allowing you to turn and face her but still keeps you in her grasp. You spin around quickly, determined to tell her off for such a violent act. 

Your breath is stolen from your lungs the second your eyes land on the woman your father spent countless day’s warning you away from. 

Your eyes fill with fear, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, and you try to take a step back. 

Natasha only tightens her grip on your waist, a smirk falling against her lips while confusion flickers behind her eyes. She can see from the look on your face that you know who she is, what she is capable of, yet she doesn’t know how. Word of the infamous black widow isn’t exactly common knowledge with the civilians in the city. 

“You know me.” Natasha muses, tilting her head to the side slightly, her eyes lighting up when she feels you try to step away from her again. “And you're afraid.” She says, the smirk on her face nearly doubling in size, as she takes a step toward you. 

Your eyes move frantically around the room, desperately looking for the men your father sent with you everywhere. Your body guards, as you call them, or your “protection detail” as they like to call themselves. 

Natasha’s hold on your waist tightens again, pulling you flush with her front and ignoring your attempts to squirm away. Your attention turns back to her and you have to gulp down your fear at the sight of the look in her eyes. It truly feels to you as though she is a starved, deranged predator and you are her prey. 

Natasha takes a moment to look you over, appraising you, while you squirm under her heavy stare, your eyes move away from her, unable to continue looking at her with the intensity of the moment.

“You're a pretty little thing aren’t you.” Natasha muses, gripping your jaw in her rough, calloused fingers and forcing you to look at her. Using her hold on your face she pulls you closer to her, until you are just a breath away. 

Your mind tells you to slap her, to spit in her face, kick her between the legs and run as fast as your feet can carry you. Your survival instincts tell you otherwise, screaming at you that if you want to survive then you have to keep her as calm as possible until your fathers men realize where you are.

So you stand as still as you can, your hands making fists at your sides in an attempt to keep them from shaking. Natasha’s eyes glance down to your clenched fists, a smile sliding its way onto her face before her eyes move back to your face.

She moves her mouth next to your ear, her warm breath hitting your skin while she whispers to you. “Let me tell you a secret little dove.” You feel her lips smile against your skin, trailing a short path up and down the skin of your cheek before she speaks again. “I like it when pretty girls like you are afraid. The look you all get in your eyes when your afraid for your life…” 

Natasha moves her hands to rest on the small of your back, moving your body in one swift jerk so that your thigh rests between her legs. She doesn’t waste a second before grinding down on the plush skin of your thigh, a grown falling from her lips at sensation. “... it gets me so, so wet, angel.” 

Natasha feels more than hears the gasp that leaves your mouth, feels the air hit her face as she pulls back to look at you again. That annoying smirk is back on her face, her eyes dark with lust and need. You jerk your leg from between hers, narrowing your eyes at the fake pout she wears at the action.

Natasha tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your face as she whistles a tune you’d never heard before. Within the blink of an eye nearly fifty bodies hit the floor, each of them going down silently, without so much as a scream, as though someone had simply powered them off.

You look around in shock and horror, your mind running through how she could have done something like that and if you’d be next. 

“Don’t worry, angel.” Natasha coos, her voice a poor imitation of someone attempting to be soothing. “I won’t kill you.” She smiles, bringing her hands up to cup your face.

“You're of no use to me dead.”

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- Currently obsessed with dark mob boss Nat, let me know what you think so far, part two will be out this day next week

Part Two

[obbystars]

Little Light

Synopsis: Not quite sent from above.

Notes: OC-Insert/Self-insert / Sebastian Solace x Oberon Sol / Oberon lore! / also not romantic despite the oc/self-insert ship lol / cursing / just silly ideas in here / p.AI.nter’s in here! / NOT CONNECTED TO SALVATION as this one is actually adding Oberon into the lore of Pressure / You can read Oberon’s document!

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(I said this wouldn’t be often but I’m getting ideas uhhhhhhh- anyway I have been thinking about trying my hand at p.AI.nter for a bit. He probably won’t be added to the list though.)

He’s not quite sure how long it’s been since he’s been locked in this containment cell. Thankfully, he does remember how he got here and clearly too. He managed to locate one of the facilities that’s owned by the sinners he’s been keeping an eye on. He went as far as to dive into the water and pierce through the Veil of the Let-Vand Zone. The water pressure didn’t even affect him, but he didn’t get very far before they spotted him. It only took minutes before all eyes were on him, but he didn’t fight back and let them take him.

Now all he felt were needles in his skin as he was held up by some sort of mechanism. He’s aware of what they’re doing and what they’re going to use it for, but he didn’t feel as angry as he probably should be. Despite all he had witnessed, he didn’t hate them for any of this. He’s not quite sure why.

He feels his wings chained down like that was going to do anything. One of the researchers got a little too close for comfort, and he admits that he may have been a little too harsh towards them. Now, because of that, they put a heavy metal box over his head. The voices outside were muffled, sometimes he heard machines moving, and sometimes he hears a door opening and closing.

Maybe curiosity did kill the cat. He vaguely remembers a discussion of a Guardian Angel being locked up in this place too for the same reason. He wonders where they could be held at. Sure his relationship with the other angels were rather complicated, but he can’t just turn away from something like that. There’ll be an opening soon enough. He just needs to wait, and frankly, he has all the time in the world.

He’ll just close his eyes for a little while. He wonders how many people have passed through his realm only to be greeted by no one. What form did he leave it in again?

However many hours, days, weeks, or months it’s been, he eventually hears a loud blaring sound followed up with an announcement he can’t quite hear. Something must be wrong, but that might mean this is his chance. He attempts to move his wings, but they could only twitch. He never realized just how tight the binds were, but he’s not surprised.

After a few hours, he hears machines moving until he’s suddenly dropped. The binds on his wings had fallen off as well. All that was left was the box on his head. He feels around the metal structure until he feels something that could resemble a lock. It doesn’t feel like a usual lock that needs a basic key for it, but if he could just…

A beep is heard and the box opens with a hiss. He pulls it off to be greeted by a dark room lit up with faint red lights. He drops the box and begins to stretch out his wings, his arms, and his legs.

…Now where was he?

The glass in front of him had shattered which gave him an opening to leave the containment room. He saw some scratch marks left by something big on the other side. He ultimately ignores it as his main concern at the moment is the location of the Guardian Angel. He wonders how they’ll react to him, but that’s saying if they even know him and what he does.

He shrugs it off, knowing full well he doesn’t expect nor does he look for forgiveness for it. Helping them would simply be his decision, but if he were to encounter anyone here who was an unfortunate victim under the sinners, then they would be his top priority. He hasn’t run into anyone yet, which made him feel relieved. Hopefully the people here managed to get out unscathed.

As he steps out into a hall, another loud blaring sound echoed through the facility.

“Attention, Z-222 has escaped containment. Do not let it leave the blacksite.”

He looks up, noticing a camera pointing at him. He raises a finger and swipes, knocking it off its hinges and shattering. That may be problematic. He’ll have to be careful from now on to avoid getting captured again. While he’s at it, perhaps he could also take a look around and see what others things are being kept here. Hopefully one of the rooms will have the Guardian Angel.

What he ended up getting caught up on, however, were some documents that had been left behind. Every single one he’s found in containment rooms, whether it was still intact or not, he thoroughly read the document. He’s not quite sure why, but he’s learned new things about this world with every document he’s picked up. He never knew such things existed until now.

As he opens more and more doors, the more he feels frustration beginning to boil up. There has been no documents mentioning the Guardian Angel, no clues on where they could be keeping them. Perhaps it was a good move for them to keep them separated, but damn it. Just how big was this place?

He comes across yet another room with two ways to go, but one of the large door’s wheels begin to turn. With no where else to go, he retreats into the side room just behind the other door and closes it before they could see him. He steps back from the door and turns around to see a computer with almost a cartoon-like face draw on it. It was locked behind a cage.

“O-Oh! Hello!” They chimed, “Uh… You don’t look like one of the workers here… H-How did you escape?”

A talking machine? And one that seems intelligent than the majority. Sentient, too.

He tilts his head, “I wish I knew, strange one. Perhaps someone had released me, but I never saw them as the people here had put a box over my head,”

“Someone released you? Oh, that must’ve been Sebastian then!”

“Hm? Sebastian?”

“Oh, right.. Box over your head,” the machine hummed, “He’s a pretty big guy. Uh, he’s blue, has an angler light bulb and a long tail. I think you’ll know it’s him when you actually see him,”

“You say as if I should go speak to him,”

Maybe his tone was a bit off which caused the machine to seem slightly nervous. He’s still not quite used to interacting with others despite his constant visits to the living realm and his interactions with their souls in his own little realm. Business talk can be vastly different from casual, after all.

“I-I mean-! You don’t HAVE to if you don’t want to!” They exclaimed, frantically trying to explain, “I just think maybe… Maybe if you wanna get out of here too, you could talk to him. He said he’d help me get out too, so…”

He thought about it for a moment. This machine seems oddly human despite it clearly being a simple program, but the tone, the face drawn on the screen, the reactions they express… It was like a person’s consciousness was in it. Strange.

“Tell me. What is your name?”

“My name? I mean, everyone really just called me “the painter.” Or just Painter. Even my… My creator,”

The sudden pause and shift in tone in their voice caught their attention. This brings him to ask, “What was your creator’s name?”

The machine looks up at him. They were silent until their expression changed into a rather sad one, “███████ ███████████████,”

That name was on a file in his realm. He remembers reading it as he stumbled upon his realm. If there was another face underneath the black mask, he was sure he’d be smiling. He had a pleasant talk with him when he passed by his realm. To this day, he still wonders why ███████ ultimately chose death over life.

“He was a good man, Painter,”

It was almost as if the machine’s expression lit up, “W-Wait, you knew him?! But, how-?”

“Please, I’d rather not fry your circuits,” he laughed, “But believe me when I tell you that he is at peace,”

“Well… O-Okay, I’ll believe you. I guess it’s nice to know he’s in a better place now,” as the machine says that, the lights suddenly flickered, “Oh, don’t go anywhere yet,”

He stares at them for a moment before the floor begins to shake. He had to balance himself as the trembles intensified and a muffled roar was heard just beyond the door.

The machine sighed, “Yeah, that’s been happening a lot lately. Been seeing it happen on the cameras before whatever it was knocked it out,”

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then,”

The machine’s face turned into a smile, “What’s your name by the way?”

It was his turn to stare at the machine in silence. Part of him figured they already knew, but he stands corrected.

“The sinners called me Z-222. But for you, Painter, it is Oberon Sol,”

“Z-222? Oberon Sol… Ohh! You’re the one they mentioned in the announcement a few hours ago!”

He laughs, nodding, “Yes, the very same. I should run along now and find this Sebastian you mentioned. Until we meet again, Painter, and maybe then I’ll try my hand at painting with you,”

“Really? You mean it? Okay! I’ll see you around!”

Oberon nods, opening the door slightly to check if there was no one. Once he confirmed the room was empty, he leaves and makes sure to close the door behind him. He makes a break for it through the door that had opened.

He’s been trying to keep track of time in his head. It must’ve been around five to six hours since he was awakened by the alarms. Maybe even more. He hasn’t seen any clocks around to properly keep track of time, but perhaps that was intentional when this place was made. You’d only know if you are told or you have a watch that still works.

He comes across a somewhat narrow tunnel. He can’t see anything outside the windows other than the occasional underwater bombs that look a bit too close even for tempered glass. It was way too quiet as well. He hasn’t seen anyone, let alone any of the researchers or even the guardsmen. Part of him begins to wonder if the people who were in charge of him are still alive.

He hoped so.

He soon finds himself looking through drawers, looking for anything that may prove useful later. Light sources, however, aren’t that useful to him. He can create his own ball of light after all.

The next room he stumbles into has its glass slightly broken. It was enough to have water start leaking through, but he quickly notices that one of the edges is slightly darker. It’s red.

This blood’s fresh…

He decides to follow it, eventually reaching the end of the tunnels and a room with five corpses. These people didn’t look like workers or even the guards. Those were prisoner outfits. Seeing them like this caused his chest to feel a bit heavy. Did they send them down here? How cruel.

There’s no blood coming from any of them. There didn’t seem to be any physical done to them, at least on the outside. He kneels down to one, checking to see if he can find out what happened and maybe even recognize this one’s face.

He can’t figure out what happened. He’ll need to look through their file in his realm, but that right now can’t be done.

He returns his attention to the blood trail as it implies the person had checked each one before they moved on to the next. Looting, perhaps. The trail then leads to the next room over. Before he exits, he looks back to the bodies and only hopes that their deaths were swift and painless.

As he stepped into the next room and closed the door, he heard a click and felt something press against the side of his head.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trailing me,” the voice growled.

He turns to the person as his small wing gently pushed the gun away. Half of his body was strangely human with an extra arm, clearly bleeding but looked to be bandaged up recently, an angler lure above his head, and a rather long fish tail as the other half of his body. He matched the description Painter had provided.

He fully turns to him, “Sebastian, I assume? Were you the one who freed me?”

“Maybe,” he doesn’t lower his gun, “I freed a lot of creatures held here, and a lot of them just mindlessly kill everything around them,”

“Fortunately for you, I don’t fall under that category. I refuse to take human life, let alone even try to harm them,”

Sebastian still doesn’t lower his gun until Oberon gently pushes it down with his hand, “A little painter told me that perhaps I should talk to you should I wish to leave this place. I assume you have a plan in mind,”

“So you met Painter, huh? He didn’t tell you what the deal was?”

“Perhaps he believed it to be best if I heard it from you,”

Sebastian sighed, putting the gun away, “Heard they’re trying to retrieve a crystal that’s deep in the facility. Apparently, it’s the main thing powering this entire place,”

“So you need to make sure the crystal isn’t picked up until you manage to find a way out,” Oberon hums, “Very well. I can assist in that,”

“You catch on quick, but you just said you wouldn’t even think of harming other people,”

“I did, but it is rather easy to throw someone off the guided path,” he snaps his finger, then points to the door behind him, “Remind me. What is behind that door?”

Sebastian turns to the door, then looks back at him, “Are you stupid or something? Didn’t you just come from that door?”

“What is behind that door?” Oberon repeats.

“The door leads to the trench tunnels,”

“It leads to a hotel lobby,”

Sebastian scoffs, “Now you’re just being ridiculous. How would a hotel lobby even-?”

As he opened the door that was supposed to lead to the trench tunnels, he was instead greeted by exactly what Oberon had said. Suddenly, he was in a hotel lobby. Oberon stands up and walks into the lobby, lighting up the fireplace. Slowly, Sebastian follows.

“What the f-?”

“I’ve made it so that it at least matches the style of this facility so it is not too out of place,” he cuts him off, “Although, perhaps if I had kept the original look, it’d make people really stop and question where exactly they are,”

“Is this a real place? Those people that were just here. Where did they-?”

He nods, “Not in this room as I pulled this one straight from where it came. Wherever this path leads, I suppose I can say I only hope they tread carefully if they wish to get through. They are not safe from the monsters you’ve released,”

Sebastian gives him a rather irritated look with that statement, one that Oberon ignores. He instead asks, “Did you know those people?”

“No. But I can only assume they’re expendable ranked prisoners. Their lives don’t matter to Urbanshade and are just used as cannon fodder. Seems to me they’re the ones being sent here to get that crystal now,”

Oberon says nothing to that. He should’ve expected such a thing existed.

“You’re leading them to their deaths, you know. That’s still killing them,” Sebastian then continues as he looks down to him, “No matter how you try putting it, them dying here will be your doing,”

Oberon is silent. Although, perhaps that’s not so different to what he normally does anyway. When people meet their end, they are brought to him and he guides them to their final destination wherever it might be. Guiding them to death.

“I still give them the chance to save themself. It’s an opportunity still wide enough for them to keep pushing forward. If I really wanted them dead, I wouldn’t give them places to hide and to retreat to,”

Even when guiding others to their death, he still gives them the option to go back and live just a little longer. This was the same thing, right? He gives them opportunities, chances, a choice. He gives them exactly what they need to keep pushing forward.

Oberon looks up to Sebastian, two stars appearing in his right eye, “You request that the retrieval of the crystal is to be delayed for as long as possible. Well, this is my method. I’m sure the one named Painter has their own methods as well, and whatever that may be, I will not interfere. A human’s will to live and desire for freedom can be extraordinary. I don’t doubt there will be one who will fight through it all and get what they so desire,”

He can see anger beginning to boil up in him as he says that, “What about what I want? Ten fucking years in this hell, and this is my chance for freedom! I had to be put through this shit before I could even think of fighting for my freedom!”

“And I don’t doubt you’ll get what you want soon enough,” Oberon lowered his head, “This is all I am capable of doing, and I apologize I cannot do more for you or Painter,”

“Aren’t you an angel? Wouldn’t the others like you come and get you out of here? Surely they can’t just leave one of their own stuck in a place like this,”

“Even if I could call them here, that wouldn’t be possible. There was a reason why the others didn’t assist the Guardian Angel of the Banlands when the sinners were there. There’s a reason why none of them tried to get them out of here, and there’s a reason why they want my light extinguished,”

Sebastian’s eyes widen a bit at that, “Extinguished? As in dead?”

He nods, “I don’t deny that I am guilty for something I did and that I still do. One rule we angels have is to never interfere with human life, much like their cycle of life. To you, death is the end, but not unless you find me. I can give you the chance to live once again, to start again where you left off. If you refuse the offer however, then I am to resume what I was originally created to do,”

Oberon pauses, then walks over to the next door. The stars in his eyes disappeared as he reached for the handle, “I always thought humans would give anything to cheat death as it was something a lot of you had feared, but… Some of you embrace it like it’s an old friend,”

On the other side was a dark hallway with windows on both sides, showing a red ocean with bones of an unknown creature. This still wasn’t the trench tunnels, and there’s no way they’re on the ocean floor to even see the bones. Either way, he doesn’t recognize those bones just outside the window. Sebastian follows him as they walk down the hall, the crimson color reflecting off of their forms.

“I suppose in a way, death is a beautiful thing,” Oberon continues, “Death is freedom to some. Maybe that’s how some of those prisoners being sent down here feel. They don’t care about the rewards. They just know this is an execution, one they fully embrace,”

He suddenly stops to look at the bones of the creature, “What do you think of it? Is death in this place truly an escape? Is embracing death in a place you would call Hell an escape?”

Sebastian stares at the bones, his eyes narrowing, “It’s the coward’s way out,”

Oberon remains silent. He will never understand humans and their way of thinking, but he loves them all the same.

Alright alright alright I swear this is the last Oberon lore post you’ll see after a while unless it has to do with art.

I’M SORRY, AFTER ACTUALLY THINKING ABOUT HIS LORE, I GOT REALLY INTO IT 😭😭

I’LL GO BACK TO WORKING ON REQUESTS

[siamesephoenixrandomideatank]

Fanon Species of Hazbinverse

Djinn

Sources of Original Concept: Pre-Islamic Persians and Islamic Belief

Djinn are Hellborns whose physical forms are made of a combination of 'steam' of liquid mana, smoke/mist, and metallic pieces containing the fire as their 'hearts'. Djinn's hearts usually take the form of oil lamps, lanterns, bulbs, glowsticks, kettles, or metallic vessels with hollow interiors with patterns and their names written on them.

The birth of Djinn is caused by liquid mana and sparks of fire interacting in the vessels those become the hearts. The spirit is formed when enough liquid mana is vaporized and smoke infused with mana's essence. Djinn don't have infancy period but starts as a child, which they grow by wisdom they earn and constant and efficient consumption of fuels and/or magic forces.

Due to Djinn's physiology, they could not harm or be harmed by physical assaults(except by their hearts/vessels being destroyed to a certain level of damage) but were highly skilled in magic, yet easily assaulted by offensive magic as well. All Djinn have an element represented by their color; Red-Pure Magic, Orange-Fire, Yellow-Air, Green-Earth/Life, Blue-Water, and Purple-Aether. Orange Djinn are fragile to water, Yellow Djinn are fragile to strong wind or explosion, Green Djinn are fragile to fire, and Blue Djinn are fragile to toxins or contaminated with oil and set on fire. Red Djinn areusually the strongest, yet easily manipulated by magic and can be killed by magic-canceling gadgets or weapons. Purple Djinn, however, arethe weakest yet can not be truly killed without being destroyed, usually being viziers or wisdom-related figures for their 'masters'.

Warp Dwellers

Sources of Original Concept: Game Workshop's Warhammer and Warhammer 40K

Warp Dwellers is an umbrella term for the species under the same Genus those can be divided into four sub-genus/species clusters. Their origin is believed to be from beyond the seven rings but in the same layer with hell, which possibly sharing ancestry with imps.

The four catalogues are Gorereapers, Poxxers, Entorros, and Daemosii. Their are sorted by certain characteristics and bloodlines, while offspring between different sub-genii are infertile.

Gorereapers' traits are having blood red skin, high muscle-to-fat ratio, got bones-based spikes on their shoulders and limbs, and having larger horns. Poxxers are identified by their yellow/green sickly hue, blood and organs festered with various pathogens which some cases may kill non-Poxxers, and having odor issues. Entorros' signs are multiple eyes and/or pairs of arms(or being a cyclopean by birth), blue or crystalline skin complex, and feathers-like hair, while Daemosii are noticed by their pink-magenta skin, tentacles-like hair, and lightweightness for their sizes.

Some of the Warp Dwellers and Imps gave birth to fertile offspring, which are usually considered being imps. However, the sub-genus usually affected the hybrid's personalities, for examples, Gorereapers with anger issue and impulsive emotions, Poxxers with 'intoxicating' and slow-thinking behaviors, Entorros with introvert and calculating nature, and Daemosii are tended to be extrovert and obsessive.

Necromorte Amberii "Feasters of Fear"

Sources of Original Concept: Stephen King's Macroverse

They are metamorphic beings started as larvae-like feeds or fear, flesh, and life force of Hellborns, Sinners, and Sentient mortal beings. They usually dwells in damp and dark places like abandoned buildings, caves, or sewers, being passive predators waiting for unfortunate victims found themselves in their domains. Their larvae form is not considered sentient as their intelligence is at best around Earth dogs, and being deaf and blind but sense surrounding by temperature, moisture, and fear instead.

After consumed and digested enough food, they will go into a deep and dark place where they hibernate and metamorphing themselves into a mature form. This stage of Necromorte takes a few years and they are unable to move themselves, being fragile to be destroyed or relocated. However, when they have reached their maturity, they will be stronger in both physical and intelligence term.

Adult Necromorte resembles an orb of orange light with eight sharp antenna-like limbs and 'fangs' which its brain and eye is are behind it. However, they can shapeshift into the victims it consumed with some adjustments by age, clothings, or mutated features to cause terror or combative uses. Necromorte usually hunts the marginalized and/or the outskirt sinners or weaker hellborns like imps or toddlers succubi/incubi few times a year, while most of the time is spent on hibernation and healing.

Necromorte's weaknesses are electrocution(revert them to original forms), alchemy-made pesticides(could blind, confuse, or irritate them, or even kill them if being strong enough) and magic-based attacks. Angel weapons also had been proven lethal on them, as they avoid hunting around extermination periods.

[hellfireconfessions]

Hey there, is Guri here. You may know me from years or unfortunately for all the drama before HF shutdown. All this situation is getting a lot put of hand for me, and I wanted to reach out here in order to explain what happened on my side ( if anything is worder incorrectly, please let me know, English is not my first language.)

Ok, so... About the doc. Some people may have read it already, and may not know what it means because the wording wasn't the better but I'll give some context. It was a story from a villain character POV on their abussive relationship with other character, both of the characters are from my creation. "Did the doc contained grooming?" No, both characters are adults. The villain character met the other character once when it was small and then didn't met each other after the other one was adult. "Did the doc had sexual content?" No, the "love bites" were a trait I gave to my characters subspecies, but since the character in question was a villain, the bites used to happen a lot more than usual. "Did the doc had zoophilia?" no, both characters are animals. "Did the doc had non-con/rape?" No, all the doc is basically the villain saying that they love biting the second character and that they love the taste of the blood. "What does the [ But she had a body I can't recall her to have] then?" the original concept of the character was a normal bipedal Utahraptor with some feathers, later was revamped to a quadrupedal more "cat-like" creature. That line meant that the character used to remember the other as s feathered normal Utahraptor, and now that they are adults, seeing her as a completely new creature with different features is weird. "What does [ swollen womb] means?" pregnancy, thought it would be another way to say it. The doc had a trigger warning on the very top and was censored entirely, to ensure the safety of sensitive readers. But many people ignored it.

I haven't groomed anyone, I'm not a pedophile, I'm not a zoophile. My characters does not define me, I'm sorry if anyone has felt uncomfortable with the doc. I truly thought that putting a warning and censoring it would be fine. The server in which was posted was a +17 server, which a few 16 years old members. No one has reached to me about the docs until noodles did on a report ticket, I got a final warning and got my pack rep removed and accepted the punishment. But aside from that, I haven't done anything. I would like to ask for the harassment and lies about me to stop, saying that im a pedophile, zoophile, that i promote incest, rape and other horrible things is not true, even I heard that some people were saying that they had proof of me grooming people and that there was a supposed victim. Of course, when you asked for the evidence, none was provided aside from the doc.

I been banned from server which I haven't played on, all for a doc that staff decided it was not banneable. Getting into my personal space and insulting my family is also not ok, while I won't blame the entire dentem et pluma pack even if the comments they made about me were horrible and I had never talked about them that way, one thing is insulting me as a player, other different is including my husband as Snail did. I make this announcement as an attempt for people to also see my side of things, that I am sorry for how everything took place and that even if horrible things were said towards me, I mean no ill intentions towards my aggressors that as long you didn't insulted my family. Guys, this is a dinosaur game, it's totally ok to not be friends with everyone but what is not ok is harassing, insulting and getting in the personal life of someone over a dino game. Stop the doxxing too, stop judging the private lives of members. If anyone would like to talk about what happened and have a fresh start/make amends. My DMs are always open.

normally i wouldnt approve but i dont know the exact details of what happened so ill let yall go at it

[mable-stitchpunk]

Do you think The Mimic is pure evil or just one very unfortunate bot? seen a pretty big group of people lately saying its just pure evil but I'm unsure if a learning AI can actually be pure evil, esp when you could potentially contain and correct its behavior and AI.

While I do hate what the Mimic is now and that its just a charmless Ennard, I do think the Mimic has a ton of potential especially if a redemption path is taken with it, its a learning AI, its not set to be what it is forever, and with the theory that Cassie survived as well as Roxy I think its a perfect set up for Mimic redemption.

The Mimic could watch the positive interactions between Roxy and Cassie and learn like its supposed to, while I don't see it being immediate the Mimic could go from hostile to just... not exactly nice but not murderous, harsh, cautious, curious. And personally if anyone was going to befriend the Mimic I do think it'd would be Cassie, she feels empathy even for scary things that chase her.

But I doubt this would ever happen, its taking away a big scary bad guy from the plot and not putting another one in, even if I think the new big bad should be whoever owns Fazbear Entertainment now, there is some super shady stuff going on there. I think unfortunately the Mimic may be doomed to always be a shallow Ennard, a big scary monster and nothing else, even if it shouldn't be.

I feel like, from what we've seen in the books and game (and ignoring the random inconsistencies through some of the interpretations, that Mimic is pretty much just an evil supervillain who is bad. Sort of like Eleanor except sometimes it strictly mimics and other times it's aware. If it's possessing Helpi when his eyes go yellow, then it also occasionally acts like some of the variations of novel William.

By which I mean, Mimic could be a complex villain, but I just don't see it happening. A lot of what it is was piecemeal from other characters and backstories, which already doesn't show much originality on its part. And looking at the characters who directly inspired it, Eleanor, I don't foresee Mimic to be anything more notable than Afton replacement.

There of course ARE a few routes they could've or could go that would make Mimic more interesting. Here's some ideas:

Have Mimic actually not a sentient creature but instead does just mimic everything. In that case, it could mimic someone like Cassie or Roxy and become friendly- only to risk becoming aggressive again if it gets the chance to lock onto another subject to mimic.

Have Mimic be Edwin's child and have his resulting aggression and switch into villainy triggered by what Edwin did to him. A sort of reverse-Henry scenario. Plus, maybe there can finally be some thematic repercussions for the abuse and trauma the haunted animatronics went through. The new villain being a victim.

(I don't personally like this idea, but in case you want a shocking twist) Maybe had the Mimic be Glamrock Freddy. Recontextualize Freddy's "when she brought me down here" and "I am not me" lines. While clearing out the basement, Vanny accidentally awakened the Mimic who then overtook Freddy's body. Mimic then became convinced he WAS Freddy. Of course, this would only be effective if it was set up and revealed in Security Breach. Even then, it would still be a twist for the sake of a twist.

Have Mimic actually be Ennard, lol. I don't know how he got there, but those wires could probably squirm into a random suit more easily than a random endoskeleton.

Have Mimic start mimicking Roxy and Cassie get control of it through its programmed bond, then have like an alternate Gregory/Freddy relationship except it's Cassie and this extremely aggressive endoskeleton that thinks it's Roxanne Wolf.

Of all the options, Mimic being a redeemable or an easily manipulated villain would certainly be more interesting than just bad because evil. Maybe even go a Fabrication Machine route somehow.

In 9, the Fabrication Machine unleashes a war against the humans and kills them all off. While in the movie the Scientist suggests this could be because the machine doesn't have a soul, in the Scientist's Journal it is shown that the machine was overworked creating war machines for the humans and that its resulting turn on them was likely triggered by that.

In my opinion though, I think it would've been cooler if it was The Blob luring her down there. The Blob, under the right circumstances, could be very terrifying. It is a monster, but imagine it luring a child with the voice of another... perhaps because it believes it's a child too.

A mat of wires comprised of numerous victims, numerous bodies, numerous voices. It may not have any souls left inside of it, maybe it does but they cannot distinguish themselves. All it knows is that it wants out and it cries out for help from a 'fellow child'.

But there's no helping it. It is simply too dangerous- because unlike Mimic, who can barely move faster than a light jog, who can be broken apart by an elevator door, who is destructible... You cannot destroy writhing wires. There's simply too much to take it out.

You may try to suffocate the voices of agony, but they will continue screaming from the depths until someone comes to find them.

I don't think Mimic ever had a chance to be that cool. 😔

[dzthenerd490]

File: Harmony and Horror - Baby Doll

.

Original Creator: @Battington  

Please Go Support their YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@Battington/videos

.

SCP#: AJU

Code Name: Eva the Final Victim

Object Class: Eucild

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AJU has been contained in the same Containment Cell as SCP-ACT as the two entities seem to have bonded after their accidental encounter. SCP-ACT is in charge of repairing SCP-AJU’s body, clothing her, and caring for her. He seems to have created a process that will allow her to age and eat as if she was still alive with a physical body. The Ethics Committee has only allowed this strange father and daughter bond to continue as it might give SCP-AJU the chance to live the life that was robbed of her. 

SCP-AJU is to be given regular therapy sessions and psyche evaluations by Dr. Rover in order for her mental state to develop properly. She unfortunately still suffers "mental breakdowns" even as she grows up, though they have been happening less and less as time goes on. It is with hope that this will continue to a point where she will be free of her trauma and be allowed to live a normal life in one of the Nexus Points owned by the Foundation. 

Mobile Task Force Hera-5 "Watch Dogs" are to watch over SCP-AJU and be prepared for any scenario that might occur or whatever may be asked of them by Command or the O5 Council.

Description: SCP-AJU is yet another horrific experiment created by Group of Interest: M&A Harmony Toys. Person of Interest: Martin Greywinder used his own baby daughter’s soul to create SCP-AJU in the hopes of making an obedient Baby Doll toy. He was hunted down and killed by the police before he could succeed. However, SCP-AJU was still made and though she was broken and flawed in design she is alive.

The design of SCP-AJU is a simple tiny doll with a porcelain shell and a mask with a bad crack on the forehead of the mask. The mask is given an uncomfortably amount of detail with its eyes being completely black making it resemble a soulless stare. The crack on SCP-AJU’s head never stops bleeding, possibly due to the corpse still being inside. Though how the blood is always fresh is unknown.

Despite SCP-AJU being obedient to a majority of the orders it is given; it will often suffer mental breaks leading to anomalous consequences. There is the occasional instance where SCP-AJU will be walking around then suddenly and seemingly transform back into a normal baby. However, this will appear as horrifically deformed with other heads growing out of the large wound on her head while crying in pain because of it.  Then there are instances where spirits and ghosts will manifest around SCP-AJU and act hostile to anyone who gets too close. There was even a time where SCP-AJU started crying and as a result, SCP-AIA, several SCP-AIL instances, and even a few SCP-ADF variants started going insane at the exact same time. Therapy and isolation seems to be the only treatment that prevents this from happening again. 

SCP-AJU was discovered in 1985 when the chase for Person of Interest: Martin Greywinder was finally killed. SCP-AJU was discovered in the basement of one of his ritualistic areas where he would often create more SCP-AIL and tried to replicate SCP-AIF. SCP-AJU was found hiding form Foundation agents during one of the raids, a spiritual and animatronic specialist managed to calm SCP-AJU down and bring her into custody carefully.

Originally, she was to be transported to Site-AA but as the report was sent to Command, she was deemed too hazardous and instead transported to Site-AD. SCP-ACT just so happened to be exported to a testing chamber for an experiment at the time and the two anomalies met. SCP-ACT lowered itself to SCP-AJU and gently patted her head, she then walked up to it and hugged it. However, the moment Security Units tried to separate the two SCP-AJU nearly had another episode, forcing them to back off immediately. SCP-ACT instead volunteered to have SCP-AJU be placed under his care and live with him where he can help construct her a new body with his doll parts. The O5 Council and Ethics Committee begrudgingly accepted as there was seemingly no better alternative. 

Shockingly SCP-AJU and SCP-ACT have bonded very well, almost seemingly like a father and daughter kind of relationship. SCP-ACT has even managed to give SCP-AJU a Scalp that, despite being made of porcelain, grows hair. As such the only added containment procedures have been her weekly psyche evaluations and therapy sessions with Doctor Rover as she gets older. However, due to her mental state still being unstable and only slightly getting better with time she is still labeled as Object Class Euclid. 

Update 2001 - SCP-AJU is now 16 years old and is now able to hold conversations but is extremely antisocial with only being able to tolerate a few Foundation staff. To the annoyance of the Ethics Committee, Dr West and Dr. Haselhurst is a part of this list of tolerance. Efforts to have SCP-AJU make friends with others her age without having SCP-ACT and the others influence her have failed. She no longer has outbursts or meltdowns so long as she is not surrounded by lots of people. She has however upgraded her ability to alter spirits and ghosts around her to however she pleases making her more useful but also equally dangerous. Though SCP-ACT is willing to listen to the Foundation so long as he continues his experiments, he still isn’t loyal and by extension neither is SCP-AJU. Mobile Task Force Hera-5 “Watch Dogs” Division “Black Hounds” is to watch over both anomalies and ensure neither rebel against the Foundation.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[tatachin]

A Record and A Question | Identity V (第五人格）

Greetings to the esteemed fan base. I am the newest victim of IDV propaganda, finally enticed by the sheer ridiculousness of the Composer's gameplay, sent to me by an old time friend who's been playing this game for as long as I have known them. Granted, I did start a good two weeks prior writing this post however with recent events, it has come to my attention that I Must inquire the following:

Is it just me, or does Frederick constantly get targeted first?

I have no fucking clue on where to begin with this. I admit quite shamelessly that I am a coward and very new to the PvP game scene, previously only religiously playing otome games and then mmorpgs (PvE type). Henceforth I chose to solely play as a decoder (after taking a liking to the Composer's play style) FOOLISH THINKING, that I could avoid confrontation with the Hunters. AND YET, as you can probably deduce from my question, I am CONSTANTLY targeted first.

Does the man have sweet juicy ass that attracts hunters in general? Are Composers just so rare to find that hunters can't help but to HAVE to chase the one guy with the tuning fork that speeds him away?

I quote this conversation yesterday, with my dearest friend who got me into this mess in the first place, AD VERBATIM,

"Friend: Fast paced transitioning like Emil's and Charles' are mostly used to dodge hit last second/to mind games in more complicated maps because they can pass through certain obstacles

:Yours are

:Fancy speedup

:LOOK HE'S A DECODER HES NOT SUPPOSED TO CONTAIN HUNTER OKAY

:HES JUST NOT BUILT FOR THAT

:THAT'S JUST YOU!!!!!!

Me> aND YET

>GESTURES AT MY 176 SECONDS CONTAINING

>fOUR cIPHERS

>NONE OF THEM WAS MINE BECAUSE I IMMEDIATELY GOT HUNTED DOWN BY THE MOTHERFUCKER OF A HUNTER

>I AM LEVELING UP THE WRONG SKILLTREE AS AN EARLY GAMER MAN WHAT THE FUCK

Friend: HAHAHAHAHHA

: Picks support

: Levels up on attack"

My dearest friend, grits teeth, has been unabashedly laughing at me for the sheer misfortune of attracting all the hunters in the world. You may laugh as well, fellow netizen.

Not every single match of course, I would've known that the world was dead set on killing me off first in that way but No. Maybe a 7/10 matches, I'd get targeted first. Maybe twice or thrice I'd get the doki dokis and nyoom away in time, God forbid if I get tracked down then on the small chance I'd still successfully kite for a while and then get the fuck away from the hunter. Or maybe, just maybe, for that peaceful few matches, I can decode. In. Peace. But nooooooooo, next match they'll DEFINITELY come back with Vengeance.

And so, as you can see, I am truly in a pickle. Please send help.

For clarification, as some of you may think "awww this newbie's throwing a fit over skill issues"

First and foremost,

Yes I am. I will admit it.

2. No, I do not vault over stuff for no reason anymore (yes I used to, as Gardener in the first 3 or 4 days before I got Composer, sue me)

3. I don't constantly miss combos (I know 3 misses will alert, collectively and not consecutively), so I'm definitely sure that's not the issue, I am pretty consistent with my combos usually reaching 100+ on lvl 2 IF I ever get a peaceful time ciphering away from the hunter/them having another unfortunate soul to harass.

4. I'm... Well. I'd like to think I'm a decent player as a Composer as I do have some mastery over his kit. It's to the point that I have 100% deduction on Frederick as I have played him religiously for these two weeks and yes, of course clearing the escape using tuning fork missions were one of those that got quickly cleared due to the sheer frequency of me getting hunted.

THUS AND THEREFORE I REQUEST OF THEE, AN ANSWER.

IS COMPOSER HOT SHIT FOR FIRST GRABS OR IS IT TRULY!!!! TRULY JUST ME.

Fellow Composer mains please reply, I am in dire need of validation.

Your truly,

A 2 week old Composer main, fresh off a match where I contained Fool's Gold for 3 ciphers in the circus map, got chaired, then saved by Embalmer, then the man gave up when I speeded away and he chased Embalmer in the seats while I, trying to realize my Norton x Frederick delusions, ran back to decode the last cipher machine right next to them.

(Eventually someone else completed the last cipher and along with the rest of the crew we made our merry little way to the gate, Fool's Gold randomly throwing his silly little pickaxe around while we left behind a graffiti mess and the poor fellow as we escaped. A bittersweet victory indeed.)

[mysticalibra1994]

What Florian's/Juliana's mother wanted to say to Director Clavell...

I know it's a bit late, but I've had this thought ever since October 11th (aka Coming Out Day).

Warning: This post will contain serious issues relating to what the members of the LGBTQ+ community STILL have to deal with (which includes... "the school's bathroom incident")

Okay, so it started as a theory/headcanon about why Florian and Juliana look so similar (a bit too similar...). Then, it hit me: "What if Florian and Juliana are the same people, but their other name is their dead names?"

In the game (after you customize your character for the first time (and let's say you used their respectful canon names)), after the opening sequence, the player's mom tells you "[Player], I've got a thing or two to discuss with the director here."

While the player goes upstairs to get their hat and schoolbag, who's to say that the mom wanted to personally inform Director Clavell about their past before the enrollment at Naranja/Uva Academy?

I believe that it went something like this... [For context, I'll be using Juliana for reference.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Violet!Mom: Again, thank you so much for accepting my daughter! I know it sounds a bit silly, but it truly means a lot to her... Director Clavell: *notices the change in tone* Of course, ma'am. If it's not too much, may I ask why? Violet!Mom: Of course. You see, by now, I'm sure that you're aware of her... shyness. That's because of her "unfortunate incident" from her old school. It was a bit early, but I have noticed and accepted the signs. Due to how late the paperwork was, the principal didn't get the memo of her transition. Juliana told me at the head office that she thought that she would use the bathroom on the 2nd floor due to less traffic and nobody would notice. Director Clavell: *sips tea* But, someone did notice? Violet!Mom: *sadly sips tea* Yes... At first, it started with one student. Then, by the time the principal arrived at the scene, it was a quarter of the population. One would assume that someone was delivering a baby! *sadly laughs* Director Clavell: *nibbles on the biscuit* Violet!Mom: Instead of understanding her situation, the principal blamed her for causing a scene; saying that none of that would've happened if "he" would use the "boy's restroom". I almost lost my composure as I tried to explain to her that Juliana is a girl so it's appropriate for her to use the girl's restroom. *eyes slowly welling up* She didn't do anything wrong! She... Director Clavell: You're quite right, ma'am. She didn't do anything wrong. What is wrong is to blame someone for their existence. *sips tea* In fact, you have nothing to worry about. Our staff, as well as our students, are as diverse as they are accepting. Granted there were a few hiccups, but we make up for our mistakes. In fact, our top student from the STEM program uses She/Her and They/Them pronouns. *hands her a handkerchief* Thank you for informing me of this. I'll see to let the Chairwoman and the staff know of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To those who've heard of the "bathroom incident" before, I've heard of it from the Dr. Phil Show and I found it hard to believe that the students would waste their time to figure out "which student is using the bathroom". Just let them go in peace!

Also, shame on the principal for victim-blaming instead of the other students wasting their time harassing someone all because "they had to go". (I also blame the parents for not educating their kids to "treat others the way you'd want to be treated").

To anyone who's from the LGBTQ+ community and hasn't come out yet... You are loved, no matter what, and your existence is valid.

[houndsteasers]

Once human, now a twisted mockery of their former selves, the Hounds prowl the ravaged remnants of the world with an insatiable hunger that gnaws at their very being. This relentless craving for flesh, forever unsatisfied, fuels their endless hunt for prey.

Officially, the Hounds are known as Chiropeterans, due to the batlike features they come to develop. The transformation from human to Hound takes a total of three agonizing days from the moment of initial infection, be it from a vicious bite or a deep, tearing scratch. 

Stage Zero : The initial stage of infection, lasting a scant three days. In the early stages, those who have fallen prey to the contagion may not exhibit obvious signs of their impending doom, however, as the hours continue on, their physical and mental state begins to unravel. Their bodies grow weak, their movements heavy and labored, their minds, descend into a murky fog of confusion and disorientation. They experience a rapid and catastrophic decrease in their emotional stability. During these three days the victim is also wracked by an unrelenting fever, one that grows higher and more unbearable with each passing moment. It is this fever that the victim ultimately succumbs to, their temperature soaring to heights impossible for a human to survive. Shortly after the moment of their death, they are revived, their bodies twisted and contorted into the monstrous form of a Hound. Stage One : In the beginning, Hounds retain a semblance of their former humanity, but telltale signs of the curse already begin to manifest. Nails surge with unnatural growth, hardening into razor-sharp talons. Teeth subtly elongate, gaining a predator's edge. The eyes undergo a grotesque metamorphosis that varies between individuals – some blaze with a hellish crimson, others turn as black as coal, while a select few grow milky white as if opaque cataracts have formed. Discoloration starts to mar the skin, sometimes contained to the fingers but often creeping up the arms like a dark, malevolent stain. Stage Two : This is the phase in which Hounds are most commonly encountered, their bodies twisted into an uncanny parody of human form. Jaws protrude further, packed with jagged fangs, and hands/arms stretch until spindly. The nose shrivels, flattening the face into a grotesque bat like visage. The eyes glow with an otherworldly luminescence, reflecting even the faintest hint of light. At this point, the Hounds are at the height of their physical prowess, speed and strength augmented to terrifying degrees. The longer they linger in this stage, the more their posture begins to degrade, until they are capable of loping along on all fours with unnatural agility. Stage Three : Few are the unfortunate souls who have laid eyes on a Stage Three Hound and lived to tell the tale. These are ancient creatures, the last vestiges of humanity long since consumed by the ravenous curse. What remains is a horror beyond comprehension – twisted, bestial faces devoid of any recognizable feature save for cavernous, screaming maws. Some still cling to the tattered remnants of their bat like appearance, while others have succumbed to an eerie featurelessness, their visages blank canvas stretched taut over inhuman bone structures. To encounter a Stage Three Hound is to stare into the abyssal heart of the corruption, and to know true terror.

#HOUNDSHQ -- an upcoming mature roleplay experience that delves into the realms of horror and the post-apocalyptic

[aspiring-prototype]

For the ask game! 3, 28, 38?

Hello, Sparrow!

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) is one of my top favourites, never fails to give me that big 'oof' every time. The feels are spot on and I love the animation, especially of the insects.

How to Train Your Dragon (2010) is another addition. The stray from 'young hapless protagonist slays beast and becomes a hero' really got me, I love the relationship between Hiccup and Toothless and all the different types of dragons, not to mention the music is beautiful.

Unfortunately, I don't have a third film to add. I have watched many movies, but it's been a while since I've done so. I haven't yet watched another movie that gives you that spark, y'know?

28. Do you collect anything?

I do collect a few things, namely seashells from the occasional trip to the shore, any funky erasers from a book fair, and I guess merch counts? I don't have much, most is bootleg but I'm fine with what I got. I don't go furiously searching for specific items, I'm not an eccentric collector yet, I'm content with just picking up anything I like as I go along.

38. Fave song at the moment?

I've got quite a few, so I'll give you 3!

Language of the Lost by RIProducer

Youtube <> Spotify

(TW: The YT video contains flashing/glitching visuals)

This song in the vocaloid genre is one that I can relate to, especially with the lyric's metaphors comparing the singer to a computer system, one that keeps reinstalling and resetting to default. It describes how one would keep going on even if they can't remember why and what dark thing from the past they want to avoid, calling out for help even if no one answers, but in the end they persevere and find a place where they belong and are loved.

2. Kiss With a Fist by Florence + The Machine

Youtube <> Spotify

(TW: Lyrics have mentions of blood and violence, as well as overall theme may imply domestic violence)

To make things clear, while this song may have implications of domestic violence and violent descriptions, the visuals are only a metaphor and there is no domestic violence actually present in the song. I can't find the artist's original statement on the song's meaning to link, but you can read it on Wikipedia here. I've pasted it here in case someone can't access.

"Kiss with a Fist" is NOT a song about domestic violence. It is about two people pushing each other to psychological extremes because they are fighting but they still love each other. The song is not about one person being attacked, or any actual physical violence, there are no victims in this song. Sometimes the love two people have for each other is a destructive force. But they can't have it any other way, because it's what holds them together, they enjoy the drama and pushing each other's buttons. The only way to express these extreme emotions is with extreme imagery, all of which is fantasism and nothing in the song is based on reality. Leona Lewis's "Bleeding Love" isn't actually about her bleeding and this song isn't actually about punching someone in the mouth."

This and another reason I like this song is how it describes fights between a couple, troubles they face together but bring them apart. The visuals of smashing plates on the other's head, burning the bed and spilling blood may put off most but to me, it makes sense, even of I haven't been in any such relationship. I like the tune too, it's pretty catchy.

3. Wait for It by Leslie Odom Jr. and Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton

Youtube <> Spotify

I've never watched the musical nor the film, but when I first came across this song, the lyrics got me hooked, especially:

Death doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and we break And we make our mistakes. And if there's a reason I'm still alive When everyone who loves me has died I'm willing to wait for it.

The way it describes Love, Death and Life really fits.

Thank you for asking and have a great day! <3

[agentcable]

Law & Order Special Victims Unit Season 22 Ep. 12 "In the Year We All Fell Down"

The life of a local restaurant owner, Sarita Choudhury, spirals out of control after a year of COVID-related losses and setbacks. She takes her business' realtor, Andrew Polk, hostage. Benson attempts to de-escalate the situation when she comes across the area, but doing so reopens old wounds from her past losses. Meanwhile, Rollins' father suffers another stroke, and Carisi tries to comfort her.

If you want to watch the series for yourself, stop reading! This post contains spoilers to the storyline.

In March 2020, a restaurant owner lost a significant reservation due to COVID.

A Hispanic family is coping with the effects of COVID. The son is considering dropping out of school because he cannot return to the dorms. The family plays music from their window.

In June, the wife asked her husband to renovate her restaurant. The father tells his son to wear a mask when going out, and he himself has to go to Michigan because his father is ill. In November 2020, the grandmother appears to have a fever. Eddie had also gone to Michigan. Due to financial difficulties, the restaurant had to lay off most of its employees. The woman's mother has COVID and is in the hospital. Unfortunately, the mother passed away in January 2021, and now the restaurant owner is at risk of losing her business. The landlord has made a call. The restaurant owner is being evicted. She takes a gun.

Rollins' fahter has been brought to NY. He is difficult to deal with. Additionally, he mistakenly believes that Carisi is Rollins' boyfriend and when she clarifies that he is not, he insults all of her previous partners.

Kat and Olivia act out a scenario involving a person with violent mental illness. Later, while getting takeout from a restaurant, Benson discovers that the owner, Vanessa, is holding a knife on some officers. Benson takes it upon herself to handle the situation and sends the officers away. Vanessa is holding Joey at knifepoint. Benson tells her to let him go and take her instead. Vanessa puts down the knife but picks up a gun instead.

The police outside view Vanessa as a threat and are concerned that Olivia entered the situation alone. Meanwhile, Ira, the manager, speaks with Kat and Garland. Vanessa is agitated, and Joey appears to be having a heart attack. Benson advises him to breathe through his nose. Vanessa argues that Benson should ensure that they allow her to keep her restaurant. Benson persuades her that she does not require Joey.

In the meantime, Rollins' father may have suffered another stroke.

Joey has been released, but the hostage situation has become viral. Vanessa gets Eddie on the phone, whom she hasn't talked to since Thanksgiving. He had lied about going away for only a few weeks. Despite this, Benson convinces her to talk to him. Eddie and Vanessa argue. She tells Benson to get out or she'll shoot him.

A doctor informs Rollins that her father has had a CVA and inquires about his living will. Carisi offers to stay with Rollins, who is upset that Benson isn't answering her calls. Carisi updates her.

Garland insists that Vanessa is not a criminal, despite the police wanting to shoot her. Vanessa cannot afford a psychiatrist hand has resorted to taking pills when she becomes upset about people not wearing masks. Benson offers a hug, but the woman pulls out a gun and warns her to stay back.

Rollins' father has financial problems, and suddenly her stepmother, Amber Lynn, appears claiming Rollins' mother contacted her. Amber Lynn also implies that Carisi is Rollins' boyfriend. Amber Lynn expressed her wish that Rollins had attended the wedding. Rollins responded by questioning her absence the previous week, citing the pandemic as a reason for his non-attendance. Amber Lynn believes that Rollins' pride is the reason for her absence. It is unclear whether Rollins has been asked about a DNR.

Vanessa says she lost everything. Nate ran off and disappeared. She says she blamed him for her mother's illness and kicked him out. Benson says she has to try to take it back. Nate has blocked her everywhere. Benson says she won't stop her from ending things, but she has to tell her son she's sorry. She cannot let the boy carry this burden for the rest of his life. Garland promises Benson on the phone that he will find Nate. A cop outside is annoyed that they didn't know about Nate before. Garland is sure they don't want the headlines of shooting a beloved chef. He sends Kat to find out where Nate is. Ira doesn't know, but Eddie might.

Carisi calls Nicole and cancels her date to be with Rollins. Rollins rants about Amber Lynn. Just then, a nurse says that Rollins' father can have visitors and assumes that Carisi is Rollins' husband and lets him come too. Rollins has found out that Amber Lynn has a life insurance policy. Amber Lynn also forces her way in.

Vanessa complains that Nate and Eddie thought the pandemic was her fault. She says that Benson hasn't lost anything. Benson tells her about Tucker. Vanessa says they were so in love, try again with him. Benson tells her that she lost Simon as well as Tucker. She talks about her guilt over the last message she left Simon. Nate does not believe that his mother wants to talk to him. He rants about how his parents treated him. Kat tells him his mom has a gun. Nate says his mom will not forgive him. Ira says she needs him.

Rollins tells Jessie on the phone to go to sleep. Carisi has an update for Kat. She asks about his parents. They laugh about the way his parents act. He won't tell her what he wanted to tell her earlier (about Nicole). She doesn't know what to do. She's never seen her father like this. How can she be the adult? Rollins confronts Amber Lynn about the outstanding warrants for forgery and everything. She can't find a divorce record from the first husband, so maybe they're not married. She suggests that Amber Lynn leave before she gets arrested. She then suggests that Amber Lynn won't want to take care of Jim. Amber Lynn decides to leave. Rollins is thrilled that she's gone.

Vanessa is losing it thinking about Nate and what she's done. Benson tells her that everyone is losing it because of this pandemic and that all Vanessa has to do is ask for help. Nate calls. Vanessa surrenders and Benson wants to go with her to the station. A bunch of people are cheering for her and have been raising money to keep the restaurant open. Garland tells Benson that she saved Vanessa's life and asks her to take some time off.

[majotokyuketsuki]

𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐚!

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Note: This writing contains mentions of Cannibalism, kidnapping and a little bit of gore, if you are sensitive about those kind of things, please dni! Also, this my first fanfic on tumblr, so there may be any mistakes, i apologize for my poor writing, enjoy!

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"Cannibalism cases have increased in the vicinity of Yokohama, the police are investigating the situation."

This article was written in a corner of the newspaper that Ranpo was reading out of boredom, written in black, matte ink and printed on dry paper. "It is said that the victims have only one connection—they all died of cold." Ranpo read this article, muttering under his breath, the sentences before his eyes strangely attracted his attention, unfortunately... not enough to prevent him from throwing the paper aside. It was another day when the armed detective agency was busy, minding their own business without anyone knowing that this would be the beginning of events—assuming that Dazai didn't skimp on work, of course.

The sun was shining on top of yokohama, it was quite hot.

It's the perfect day for an ice cream.

It was Ranpo's idea to turn this hot weather into a good opportunity, after all, ice cream makes everyone happy!! Isn't it? A cold dessert with chocolate, mint, strawberry and many other flavors!! This would be a nice opportunity for him to relax during the summer days—but first... he should go to an ice cream shop to get ice cream. The only problem is, he doesn't know how to go back to the armed detective agency. That means; ranpo needs someone.. but who could it be?

"Ranpo-san?.. are you okay? you've been staring into space for a few minutes." When Ranpo's thoughts were interrupted by Atsushi's slightly worried voice, Ranpo's eyes opened slightly, revealing green, emerald colored orbs of his. He turned his head to the white-haired boy next to him, who was carrying several stacks of papers in his hands, towards Atsushi. At that moment, Ranpo felt the excitement pulsing in his veins. What he was looking for was at his feet and he didn't even tire himself for it!

"Ah.. Atsushi-kun, it's nothing you need to worry about." Ranpo took the pink lollipop out of his mouth and looked at the ceiling while leaning his head on the far end of his chair, knowing that Atsushi noticed the absent-mindedness on his face. "I just.. want to go get ice cream, but you know!! Tch, of course I can't go by myself.." "Can you help me, Atsushi-kun!!?—if you help, maybe I can give you a lollipop.. maybe." Ranpo quickly stood up from his office chair and looked at Atsushi with a grin on his face, although it was an innocent and sweet looking grin, it was sudden enough to surprise Atsushi. “Huh?- me..?- okay.. okay.”

"Yipeee!! Thank you so much Atsushi-kun!!!"

____

"Ugh... so hot." These thoughts ran through Atsushi's mind as he walked following Ranpo, his brows were furrowed, and he could easily feel the sweat running down his forehead, it was the middle of summer after all... why wouldn't it be hot? Well, at least these were the questions he asked himself to reassure himself. The sun in the sky was shining like there was no tomorrow, giving its warmth to the earth, the sounds of people talking as cars passed by on the street were nothing but a white noise, Ranpo was walking with light steps, ignoring the heat as much as he could, but he still couldn't help but whine childishly, naturally. Such things were in Ranpo's nature, Ranpo turned his head to Atsushi walking behind him and looked at him sullenly.

--> part 2 is on my profile, thank you for reading!!! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[wat-da-hell-iz]

Trigger warning! This case may not be your cup of tea, as it talks about k*llings(i), t*rture(o), Human remains

What the hell is the MURDER CASTLE?

Links that helped me with this information! (link)1.. (link)2..

Built back in the 19th century, the murder hotel in Chicago Illinois was created to ensure that Herman Howard Holmes' victims did not have 100% chance to survive and escape his grasps.

Herman Howard Holmes, H.H.Holmes for short and previously known as Herman Webster Mudgett was America's first known serial killer and the owner of the Murder Hotel also known as the Murder castle.

The hotel was three stories and contained more than 100 rooms, it was ugly and large but the residents of Chicago had still grown interested in such a building, unaware of how horrifying it actually was.

For the first floor, H.H Holmes had planned for it to contain an entire block of storefronts so that he would be able to rent out to the flood of new businesses in the city at that time.

For the second floor, it was allegedly full of, as it says, 'Asphyxiation Chambers' mazes, hidden stairs and a basement filled with other horrors only unlucky victims had the misfortune of seeing for the last time.

For the third floor, it contained normal apartments for new residents trying to make it big in the city in Chicago called Windy city. Those residents may have been victims as well to H.H Holmes hands.

Because of H.H Holmes mind, he (apparently) switched builders & architects frequently so that no one would realize the horrible end goal of the strange things he wanted in his hotel, and by 1892 it had been finished and flourished under the gaze of the sun and moon.

Unfortunately, as the residents would come in, very few would make it back out unharmed as the bodies would pile up until 1894, when H.H Holmes was behind bars.

Police had explored this hotel and were understandably confused at what they've found at first glance, as the walls were hinged and false in partitions. When some rooms had five doors, others would have none, and there were secret airless chambers found under floorboards while iron plate-lined walls stifled all sounds.

H.H Holmes apartment in this hotel had a trapdoor in the bathroom which when opened, revealed a staircase leading to a windowless cubicle that held a large chute that tunneled through to the basement

One room was lined with gas fixtures, where H.H Holmes would seal his victims in, flip a switch in a safe room and watch as his victims tried to escape only to fail. Once more, a chute was found nearby this room.

The doors of the hotel and some steps were all connected to an intricate alarm system where if someone stepped into the hallway and/or headed downstairs, it would alert the killer.

it might very been exaggerated or invented by the newspapers from that era of time, so please keep this in mind.

Police uncovered the Murder hotel and found clues, the first clue being when the police found a pile of bones of animals and humans. While the animal bones were larger than the human bones, the human bones were so small that they undoubtedly belonged to a child who wasn't older than six or seven years old.

When the police went deeper into the cellar, they found more clues and then their answer. In cellar, they found a blood soaked operating table with some women clothes nearby, along with another surgical surface, a crematory, tons of medical tools, an insane torture device, and shelves stacked with disintegrating acids.

When H.H Holmes would drop his victims down the chutes, he would, reportedly, dissect them, clean them, and then proceed to sell their organs and/or skeletons to medical institutions or the black market.

[sixty-silver-wishes]

For all you aspiring clown owners out there, when you take a sick clown to the vet for their annual chuckle-up, beware of FAKE clown doctors like this guy here! He may seem official- he calls himself a doctor and even has a traveling carnival sideshow- but do NOT make the mistake of entrusting your clowns to him!

Just look at his own clown, for instance. This is a rare Scare/Mime hybrid variant known as Expressionus Conradus. They're native to Germany and, in the wild, are sometimes seen in rural Oktoberfest carnivals, cinemas, and the thesis papers of bored film students. While a graceful and elegant breed, these clowns are unfortunately prone to sleep disorders, especially somnambulism, and therefore may require extra care (Figure 1).

Already, you can see the wretched state this poor clown is in. This Conradus, called "Cesare" by his incompetent handler, is clearly malnourished, and while Mime breeds sometimes groom themselves to maintain an orderly appearance with invisible brushes and combs, this one has become so stressed to the point of unkempt, matted hair. Right away, any responsible clown owner can tell how distressed this clown is, especially one supposedly under the care of a "doctor." But that's just the tip of the iceberg. As a warning to all clown lovers, these next few images may be disturbing.

Here we see several things that would cause horror in anyone familiar with the hallowed art of clown husbandry (Fig. 2). This setup is HORRENDOUS. Due to the Conradus' tendency to sleepwalk, they require a soft place in which to sleep, along with safety measures in place to make sure they don't accidentally hurt themselves or others. Enrichment toys are also ideal to keep them engaged. However, we see here that instead of anything that would accommodate the unique condition of this beautiful creature, so-called "Doctor" Caligari keeps him in a BOX just barely big enough to contain him. A quarantine box for injured clowns is sometimes necessary, but it should NEVER be used as their primary habitat. We see no enrichment devices, not even a simple red balloon so common with Scare clowns; it's no wonder that Cesare is asleep all the time! And what is he FEEDING him?! While the Expressionus Zomburg, a close cousin of the Expressionus Conradus, lives primarily on hamburgers and other food truck fare, this species requires a balanced diet of fresh fruits and the finest German cheeses and pastries; with its frail composition, anything otherwise could be dangerous. I don't even want to try to describe what's going on here; I just know that no clown should ever be fed that slop. But if you think it can't get any worse, it certainly does.

Scare clowns, it is true, are an often dangerous variety that sometimes have a need to stalk and kill human victims. And yet, there is so much that is misunderstood about them. A Scare clown is happiest when causing mischief, wreaking havoc, and killing whoever it pleases. And yet, our poor Cesare isn't even allowed to do that! His handler forces him to kill certain victims, rather than letting him murder whoever he wants by his own free will. Killing may be stimulating to Scare clowns, which is why owning one requires extra care, but forcing a Scare clown to kill, especially when they're asleep, can mess with their minds and even cause severe depression. This is an injustice to all Scare clowns! Cesare should be able to run free and not be made to kill people, but rather to kill them on his own accord!

When given the love and care they deserve, these beautiful clowns make excellent companions and loyal friends. Their unique personalities and graceful movements make them stunning to watch, and while they may be difficult to care for, the proper procedures will make it all worth it. It's truly a shame what's become of this individual, and we can only hope he's been rescued and relocated somewhere to a nice shelter, such as Bozo's Home for Gloomy Fools. If you would like to help mistreated clowns like Cesare, consider donating to the Scare Clown Rescue Foundation, where "We Use Your Pennies Wisely."

Blatant example right here of what not to do when practicing clown husbandry

[dzthenerd490]

File: 9

SCP#: ASN

Code Name: Diabolus ex machina/ The B.R.A.I.N. Machine.

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ASN resides in the destroyed city of [data expunged] in Germany. The area has been quarantined with the cover story being an accidental toxic chemical spill, resulting in the complete eradication of all organic life the city and thus no one is allowed in. Mobile Task Force Hephaestus-4 "Anvil Breakers" are entrusted to destroy any SCP-ASN-1 instances that get too close to the border of the quarantine zone as well as keep out any wandering civilians.

Description: SCP-ASN is a mechanical device that was created by a scientist named [data expunged], [data expunged] was killed by SCP-ASN soon after its creation. SCP-ASN is massive mechanical device connected to a deactivated instance of SCP-[data expunged], also known as by its Code Name: [data expunged]. It is believed that because SCP-ASN is connected to this "Factory" that SCP-ASN is capable of its anomalous properties. SCP-ASN is a mechanical device that has a spherical "true body" while its artificial body is a large mechanical monstrosity of mechanical limbs with tools and/or hands at the end of each. Unfortunately, very few of the dozens of Foundation agents or drones sent in SCP-ASN's domain who were able to find it and observe its appearance has returned to the Foundation. As such, we only have a basic idea of SCP-ASN's appearance as it has a main spherical body, a large red mechanical eye, and several limbs of various sizes and purposes. The best information obtained on SCP-ASN's appearance is a drawing made by a Foundation agent who managed to see SCP-ASN. He spent three days drawing the picture not doing anything else only to quickly killed himself after drawing the picture.

SCP-ASN's structure seems to make no mechanical sense, the body is able to move and has functioning joints and tools but with no fuel source to power it all, how this is possible is unknown. SCP-ASN has the ability to create SCP-ASN-1 instances, these mechanical monstrosities have robotic bodies of various mechanical complexity, but none have a functioning power source, how SCP-ASN-1 instances even work is unknown. Peculiarly every SCP-ASN-1 instance no matter its form, always has at least one red glowing eye, quite similar to SCP-ASN's "eye". Dr. Wicked has theorized that this red eye is in fact the power source of each SCP-ASN-1 instance. This theory was born with experiments on captured SCP-ASN-1 instances which every instance always "die" after the eye is removed.

Each SCP-ASN-1 instance is loyal to SCP-ASN-1 and actively seek out humans for SCP-ASN to "feed" on. Once an SCP-ASN-1 instance has managed to capture a human and brought it to SCP-ASN, it will activate SCP-ASN-2. According to reports form the few survivors of SCP-ASN recon missions, SCP-ASN-2 is a small device attached to SCP-ASN. SCP-ASN uses the device to devour the souls of its victims. SCP-AZY seems to have its anomalous abilities regardless of how many human souls it consumes, so why it does this is unknown.

SCP-ASN was discovered in May 1930 when a German general instructed the scientist [data expunged] to construct a device that could built an army of machines. Had the project been a success he would have led Germany in World War 2, instead of Hitler. However, though the scientist succeeded in constructing SCP-ASN he failed to make it loyal to the German military and thus it created war machines that were powerful enough to wipe out the entire city of [data expunged] as well as the surrounding areas.

Foundation staff within the city were unfortunately cut off from the rest of the world with the constant. As such, out of desperation, they led a resistance in hopes of destroying SCP-ASN or at least weakening it until Foundation reinforcements arrived. Their resistance ended up being wiped out within a month and so did all life within SCP-ASN's area of influence. SCP-ASN's victory was achieve by not only creating a large variety of machines to kill any form of organic life but also by creating a new gas that works quite similarly to Foundation necrosis venom, how it achieved this is unknown. It is for this reason the Foundation has deemed containment of SCP-ASN's area of influence easier than containing the entity itself.

This has resulted in the entirety of SCP-AZN’s area of effect to be quarantined just like the infected area of SCP-610. Unlike, SCP-610 it is with hope that despite evidence showing otherwise, SCP-ASN will eventually die of starvation. As such Mobile Task Force Hephaestus-4 "Anvil Breakers" was created to watch over the wall containing SCP-ASN's domain to cut off SCP-ASN's food supply.

Update: 1940 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed.

Update: 1950 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed.

Update: 1960 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed.

Update: 1970 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed.

Update: 1980 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed.

Update: 1990 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed.

Update: 2000 - SCP-ASN's status has not changed; However, the O5 Council has grown tired of waiting for SCP-ASN to starve to death as such it arranged multiple deployments of MTF units and Foundation agents to destroy SCP-ASN or at least reduce its power so that it can be properly contained. See Addendum X-17 for details.

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SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub