#Bloodlights

[ask-starlight-gamersponys-club]

move this blog two here so send any asks or followers

fet @anideterm3

but in meantime going work on profiles of the ocs in this blog

[ask-starlight-gamers-club]

what they like

ask by @ask-gadzooks

back ponys @anideterm3

[littlelovelyra]

THE “BLOODLIGHT BLAZE” TENDER MOMENT ?!!!?!?!??? WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK DID I JUST LISTEN TO ?!?!? IM FERAL.

Someone send help. Send the paramedics. My heart has stopped.

[ask-luciavampire]

New mlp pony fanfic I making and working this weekend check it out

 https://www.fimfiction.net/story/281003/bloodnight-academy

[urtopia]

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I didn't have internet for an hour so I opened my most recently-created playlist in my laptop's music library and went, "Is anyone going to psychoanalyze this man?" and didn't wait for an answer.

[ask-starlight-gamers-club]

cool

Ask-the-socitey-gamers-club ) (layla bloodlight ask) you what join are gamers club we get to play lot of video games and board games and Computer games

#57

[ruiniel]

Remember

Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: Kokushibō x fem!Reader

Count: 2.6K

Rating: Explicit🔞

On AO3

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII - Part XIV - Part XV - Part XVI

Chapter Tags & Warnings: mature'ish scene. From now on there'll be more of these in the story.

XVII.

Eyes open wide, you steadily sit up, a hand holding the quilt to your chest. 

He has that same look on his face. “Michikatsu-san���?” 

He doesn't answer, merely stands there, pallid and silent and with his head lowered, a foil between you and your privacy. He doesn't look threatening, or angry, or any other state you might've expected at any other time. If anything, there is a subtle reluctance to him, one that might've escaped you if you hadn't gotten to know some of his manner.

The thought rushes forward: What changed?

He never actively seeks your company, not since you lodged here with nowhere else to go: in fact, this is the very first time. 

You have no right to ask who that was earlier if only to confirm a suspicion, and he probably wouldn’t grace you with a response, either. Still, puzzling anticipation floods your sense, the rising notes of a primal melody long ignored. 

I must leave. Away from this place, this longing like sweet poison slow to kill. 

You rise to your feet. “Is he gone?” Why did you look at me that way?

He raises his head at the question, bloodlight shadowed by dark lashes. Once, that light unsettled, now it feels like the lucent heat of flames. 

The room is chilly, the cold prickling your skin beneath the fabric. The flames rise, burning through clothing and flesh until you're bare and exposed to a lapping fire that both hurts and soothes.

Your robe glides off one shoulder; you don’t bother, focused on keeping a steady step as you approach him—heedful, like you neared the precipice of that abyss in your dream.

The same question from before rests on the tip of your tongue but hesitation recalls all those failed past attempts to… what? In a way, he’s been merciful in keeping you from that kind of doom, hasn’t he?

You don't intend to make another mistake—

You’re barely within reach when he takes you by the forearm, pulls you in; bewildered, you crash into him, body tensing in instinct against a sudden attack. 

Merciful… 

A shallow breath is smacked from your lungs, more shocked than anything to feel not pain but him, around you; then, the hard, defined angles of his face smoothed by skin, buried in the crook of your neck. Breathing. Breathing you in.

Your arms, slack but for a moment, snake their way up around him. Tight, tighter, tighter. You don't intend to make another mistake, no, but what is he doing?

His clothes smell like incense and his hair is soft, thick and strong between your invading fingers. Your body lined against his is a strung bow, held too taut, ready to break. But that same urge that drew you to him, that bent your steps his way now, says he wouldn't allow that to happen. 

His chest rises against you. A warm rush of relieved breath tickles your skin, and the chill in the room vanishes like mist from the skies. His face is hidden in you, eyelashes slowly caressing your throat where a pulse runs hot. Faster. Desperate. Your hands untangle from his strands as Michikatsu draws back to look at you: at you, not through you, not beyond you.

A shudder wracks you at the invasion: stripped of your skin, down to tissue and blood and bone. What could he possibly see? You can’t deny there is a frightening beauty to him like this, but the two of you are nothing alike.

Are you?

Your lips part. Finally, the question. “Why… did you look at me that way?”

He appears to want to speak, but instead his hands curl deeper into the flesh of your body.

And still, he doesn’t answer. Instead, his hand then grips your face with no tenderness, pressure lowering, settling around your throat. The skin of his palm is rough and warm, and despite the vulnerable position, his touch feels oddly comforting. The intensity of his stare makes you squirm, makes you falter, makes you want. His other arm still binds your waist securely as a noose, unyielding as iron. 

A heart—yours—is frantic, pounding blood through your flesh, physical awareness spiking with another sigh—his. You lost the will to move, to say anything when he’s breathing your air, sight gliding to your lips.

A countdown of unease flickers wildly from the base of your spine, bolt after bolt after bolt. Your hands grip his clothed back, nails raking over defined swells of muscle and bone like hot metal. Your tiptoes barely touch the floor in his hold. 

He tilts your chin—

“Will you regret it?” the question escapes you like a creature of flight. Nothing about this is sane, or wise, neither in his favor or yours. Definitely not yours.

His eyes close, features softened like you’ve never seen them. You feel like an intruder, treading on something he’d allow no one, maybe not even himself. His smile is faltering, bitter. It looks like a curse. “... will you?”

Your fingers dig deeper into his back.

Not sane, or wise...

His lips are soft, warmer than all those dreams you daren’t linger on at dawn. There is so much more you never imagined, from the slip of strength when his palms feel down your back to the long, incredibly gentle fingers now seeking along your spine, like one would remember the makings of an instrument. Up, down, up, down… enveloping, weakening.

You find a way to respond, tasting hot flesh as he patiently follows your timid nips, lips parting when you brush against them with a hunger that surpasses your experience. He groans softly against your mouth; the vibration of that one sound, the way his arm seizes around you pressing you closer, all trigger sparks that flicker from your lower abdomen, burning through your blood, mellowing your body. Your first kiss. 

His arms slacken around you all too soon, and with a last, torturously gentle pull on your lower lip, you’re released. Lost in a nameless feeling, you gape at him. You want to hear more of that sound he made, want to feel more of this, whatever this is, as long as he shares it.

Michikatsu looks briefly behind you. Understanding, shivering, you turn and walk to the futon, kneeling down before your legs fail you completely. 

He follows, sitting before you so your knees barely touch. Close, watching you, he loosens the collar of his kimono, easing out of his layers before you and your heart, now drumming angrily up your throat. You’ve seen his body before but you were mad with fear and he was unconscious, wounded bloody; now you need to touch him, you’ll wither away if you don’t.

Bare from the waist up, he cups your cheek with that roughened hand. His eyes close at your tentative touch, the pressure of your palm to his chest: lingering on each refined muscle, each relief, tracing harmonious lines that tense beneath your shaking fingers. Warm, like the sun. Thrilled at the view, you feel the contours of the reddish mark adorning his pale skin, coiling down his neck to his collarbone like flaming talons. 

“Does it... ever hurt?”

Eyes still closed, he shakes his head. “It did, once.” And with that Michikatsu urges you closer, his other hand draped firmly over your thigh.

You all but fall against him and his mouth is on yours again, hot and seeking, head tilting to press more against your wet lips, to deepen the kiss; gentle pressure leads you onward, the fine tip of his tongue glides inside your mouth coaxing more of those flickers that have your heart pulsing low in your belly and it feels so good, how can it feel so good and right when everything else is...

Your robe eases off your shoulders without care as he leans in, for more. His tongue soothes your lips as your fingers skim along his working jaw—

The sudden sting shocks you, casts you out of the trance.

With a pained gasp you tear away; the hand on his jaw seizes, then strikes him across the face.

Frozen by what you’ve done out of sheer instinct, you stare, the inside of your wrist pressed to your bottom lip. The taste of copper fills your mouth.

Michikatsu releases a breath, his eyes averted from you. His lashes are lowered, his gaze drowsy. 

You remove your wrist from your mouth, smeared in crimson.

His breaths are heavier, eyes back on you as a thin string of red shines on your lip, drips down your chin, falling in tiny ruby beads over your breast, your naked thigh. 

The look he’s giving you is that of a beast denied its fare, but there’s no fear— he makes no other movement. He looks dazed, the same as… back then. Hungry. Despite all his power, he’s swaying and props a hand against the floor, head hanging lower. A side of you, a new, merciless side that revels in seeing him like this, makes itself known through renewed slivers of pleasure joining at the juncture of your thighs. 

No apology. You never expected one, so you take him by the chin just as a rush of controlled force pushes you down by your shoulder. 

“Don’t… bite me again...” you murmur even as you fall.

Michikatsu says nothing, embracing you so tightly your breath hitches: skin to skin, so close his own heartbeat burrows through your chest. 

It feels so easy, so natural to melt against him. All you can do is hold him, panting for air. He’s pushed you down amid your tortured sheets, mouth pressed to your skin exploring with feverish swiftness: fangs graze the mark on your neck, his own doing. Your body tenses, arching up against him, spine tingling and nerves afire. His touch skims across dips and curves as he licks and sucks at the skin there, until his hand splays over your lower abdomen, pressing down. 

“W-wait…”  

Head raised, Michikatsu catches your gaze. The melting gold in his eyes spills light over his skin, and the weak light of the andon lamp shivers against the hard planes of his torso. His long, red-tipped strands curl around his face as he holds himself above you, focused on nothing but your words.

“I… I’ve never…”

“I know,” he says.

You want to ask how, but it feels unimportant now. Now, you're lost watching him poised above you, how his lashes dip lower, and he returns to seeking, feeling, tasting while you twist and sigh beneath his mouth, beneath hands that took so many lives but now contend with yours.

He licks the drip of blood off your breast, his thumb circling the tip of the other. A foreign sensation, a delicious pull. Your back arches off the floor, and a strangled moan from you makes him pause, but only for a moment: the hot pressure of lips over your hardened peak frees a knot of raw pleasure, become dizzying when he releases your nipple with a long, hard suckle. Your hands trail needily over his shoulders, his arms, and you press a palm to his left pectoral, your mouth watering from the heat of closeness—scalding, tormenting, not enough.

“So long… I haven't held you like this in so… long,” he shifts above you like a tidal wave, undulating but unpredictable. The plush warmth of lips and dangerous graze of fangs follow lower, along your ribs, sucking at the skin of your belly, your hip, licking the blood off your thigh. “Hisa…” 

One word, a hammer to your bursting heart. I’m not… Tears sting your eyes, misery and regret weave with pleasure. “But I’m… you know I’m not her… not her…”  

His voice has become unbearably soothing, all the more unbearable since you need it to be so. “No, you're not, you’re not, of course… ” he repeats, kissing a path back up to you with deliberate slowness, stopping to lick at the swell of one breast before nipping softly at each in turn.

Unbidden, a memory from a different encounter emerges. His voice, back then, laced with frost.

'You foolish girl...'

You’d push him away if you could, if you weren't as lost while a warm, calloused hand feels up your inner thigh, closer to your core. You feel the wetness between your legs, all evidence of lush torment. You've felt it before, this aching emptiness while thinking of him, but never quite like this. And you're not such a hypocrite as to not admit you don't want this to end.

By the way his eyes keep closed and from the sighs caressing your skin, he is just as lost. All he's doing is increasing that ache, teasing that emptiness, one you know only he can fill. 

And oh, how you need him to. 

His hair came loose in the struggle, unbound like fallen silk over your bareness as he moves. You hold in a breath, teeth biting into your lip when his finger finds your slit; glides up along it. He looks back at you, gaze avid, absorbing your expression as his touch explores and parts the fleshy lips of your center. His jaw is tight while he watches you, that same arresting stare you can never hide from. 

Your thighs press together, trapping his hand between them, but relent easily when he lifts your leg, leading it around his clothed hip. It’s your turn now—you rise on your elbows and savagely bite on his lip with all the frustration he's caused.

You feel a smile. 

“Breathe,” Michikatsu then whispers against your jaw, and you try, body surrendering to the slow glide of his touch inside.

It feels strange at first, but he soon finds a place and insists, and your hips tilt forward into his hand of their own accord. This, this helps relieve some of the ache, but just barely. 

You can’t hold down a moan as you’re slowly pried more apart, hands tightening in his hair and pulling viciously when the pressure increases—your focus skews as he draws pleasure you never knew existed, that you never fathomed your body could harbor within itself. 

You look down to see what he’s doing, watching two glistening fingers dip slowly in and out of you. The sight is fascinating, unusual, arousing enough to tear shallow little gasps from you with each thrust. 

“I…” you tilt your head back even as warm touch wet with slick presses and circles a bundle of nerves that turns you into a shaking mess. “M-Michikatsu, please, I…”

The rhythm of his hand increases as you speak his name, and your voice fails for a time. 

You're made of shudders, whippings of pleasure and liquid warmth. You know there's more to this, you feel how he's following every reaction, so completely attuned to your body and its needs that it's frightening. It's a downward spiral you could lose yourself in; and now, you want that... want to see what 'more' feels like—what he feels like. “I...” 

He licks up your throat, sucks kisses into your skin, above the flutter of your desperate, leaping pulse. “You, what?...”  His voice is choked, hoarse.

“I want… you, closer than this,” the words leave in pitiful, ecstatic shreds; you can't take much more of what he's doing, your heart might burst and you’ll die a fool to your desire. 

His answer is a faster pace. You try to touch him but he won't allow it and so contend yourself with clinging to his shoulders as you are, as he thrusts inside and coaxes helpless, witless bliss from a body no longer your own. 

Your hips stutter, and for a moment the world is no more. Oblivion blackens your sight. You fall down that abyss you so feared and it takes you gladly, surrounds you, superbly engulfs and drowns you until all that remains are flickers and shards broken by harsh, fast breaths. 

[ask-starlight-gamersponys-club]

dont mess with gamers ponys

ask and fet by @foodielovethealicorn and @asktwillighteclipse

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Luckily for the most part it was quiet. Yes Homelander was still raging about the whole thing, but there was no proof of anything. So it would be fine.

So she had been able to sneak away at the designated time. Though it was less sneaking and more just walking out in street clothes. It wasn't like she was a prisoner. All things considered so very few people batted an eyelash. She had to swipe out, and she had but the excuse was she just needed some fresh air.

Luckily the park wasn't far and she could just walk the distance. She slipped her hands into her sweater pocket as she did so. One hand wrapping around the flash drive that contained the names. She continued toward a park bench. She kept an eye out though all the same.

As James watched Annie approach the park, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that she had managed to come without any trouble. The hunger within him simmered as he imagined the blood he would feast on once she handed over the files, but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside, determined not to let his instincts get the better of him now.

As Annie drew closer, he slipped towards the park bench she settled upon, to sit and talk. He was eager to express his gratitude and discuss their next course of action. However, as he neared her, he realized that he didn't see any physical files in her hands.

A flicker of confusion crossed his features as he stopped in front of her. "Annie," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity, "thank you for coming. I hope the journey here was uneventful."

As they got settled, James couldn't help but glance at her empty hands, unaware of the flash in her pocket. "I must admit, I expected physical files," he remarked with a sheepish smile.

"It is one word for it." She wasn't sure if there was footage, but she was probably on it. She should have thought of knocking it out, but she could always work on the backend when it came to it.

A nod from her. "The park is fine." As long as they didn't put her under house arrest well she could get out well enough. And maybe she could find a different way out. She knew she needed to be far away from this location just in case. So she walked down the hall as he disappeared.

She made her way to the meeting room because that's where she should go with the alarms going off as opposed to anywhere else. She should try to destroy the footage, but maybe she would get lucky and there was none. She perched in her seat all the same. Doing her best not to be nervous.

She snuck in late that night once it was quiet. Getting the information she wanted out of the system and also very quietly erasing footage. She took care to not get caught and would be at the meeting place at the right time.

As James left Vought Tower, his senses heightened and his hunger grew more insistent. The scent of blood filled the air, tempting him with its sweet allure. He walked briskly, desperately fighting the primal urges that threatened to consume him.

At one point, a stranger crossed his path, and for a split second, James's control wavered. His fangs bared, ready to strike, but he managed to restrain himself just in time, his eyes widening with the realization of what he almost succumbed to. With an apology to the man, he quickly retreated, seeking solace and safety within his lair, the confines of his coffin.

Throughout the day, as Annie had to deal with Homelander being unhappy that the creature who attacked him and lived was somehow FREE and the meeting relating to it, he battled his inner demons, the constant struggle between his vampiric nature and his desire to retain his humanity. The hours felt eternal as he slumbered, but as the sun finally set, casting a pinkish glow across the park, James emerged from the darkness. His features were composed, but a hunger still burned within him, kept at bay for now.

He stood by a designated meeting spot wearing a pair of shades until the sun had fully set, his gaze scanning the surroundings as he awaited Annie's arrival. The park was serene, its tranquil atmosphere a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. He yearned for the companionship, the alliance that had unexpectedly formed. And so, he stood there, a figure cloaked in shadows, patiently waiting for the arrival of his newfound ally.

[ask-starlight-gamers-club]

what they want are are up

ask and fet @asktwilighteclipse

[phanfictioncatalogue]

"Bloody" Fic Titles Masterlist

Baby, I’ll Bleed You Dry - definitelythor

Summary: Cliché Vampire!AU where Chris and Dan are just trying to blend in, and they compete to see who can get laid first. The problem is, PJ wants to be bitten, and Phil isn’t what he seems.

Black Blood - howellester8791

Summary: Dan is a vampire hunter, one of the best in the entire London, and he has to solve the mistery of the “Blue-eyed vampire of Haze”. But when he meets the vampire, something in Dan changes and he’ll find out that the enemy is not this pale, dorky, black haired and blue-eyed vampire named Phil.

Blood (ao3) - flourishandblotts

Summary: Dan was drowning in Phil.

Every night, the same. He would dream of other things, too – Phil wasn’t the only one occupying his twilight. But he didn’t like to think of those other things. Whenever his mind began to wander away from him, the night changed.

Blood Covered Snow (ao3) - Hannah_Writes 

Summary: On the way home, Dan and Phil are stopped by a group of guys who doesn't like who they are. Will one of the survive?

Blood Isn't The Only Thing I Crave (ao3) - 72percenthuman (orphan_account)

Summary: Phil is a vampire, and after an arguement, Dan uses Phil's weaknesses to get what he wants.

Bloodlight - the-butt-llama

Summary: Dan tells Phil to take a ‘short cut’ home, leading him to end up with a lifetime issue.

Bloodlust��- wishicouldunreadthat

Summary: Dan is attacked in the middle of the night by what seems to be a vampire, and when he wakes it turns out that Phil is this vampire, and he saved Dan’s life by turning him into one himself. Phil raises the newborn as best he can, but he’s keeping secrets from his friend. Dan finds out too late that Phil has a plan for him.

Bloodmates (ao3) - theflamboyantdancer

Summary: Philip Lester is a part of the undead and has been for over a century. He is bored and wants to find some excitement in his life! What he doesn’t expect is that his excitement is human!

Blood On Your Hands, Cream In My Coffee - littlephanwriters

Summary: police officer/criminal AU where Dan and Phil are partners assigned to go undercover as a couple to catch a serial killer, and Dan starts to fall in love with Phil while working on the case (alternatively: the crime AU/coffeeshop AU crossover that no one asked for)

Blood On Your Skin (ao3) - Absolutefilthimsosorry

Summary: Dan has something of a blood kink. After filming the slime crafts video, Phil decides to indulge him.

It’s fake blood smut y’all. Idk what else to say.

Blood Red (ao3) - HeartsAndSpades

Summary: It’s a late November night in 2012 and Phil decides to go for walk. He gets attacked by a woman in a dark alley. Phil comes out with a lot more than he bargained for. His main concern is with his best friend, Dan, who may be a little more than a best friend in his mind. Will he be able to keep him and Dan safe from what he’s becoming?

Blood Still Stains (ao3) - alsosorrybutwtf

Summary: Phil is always down for an adventure, but pursuing Dan may be more than he bargained for. Dan wants someone who will love and accept all sides of him, even the sides some may call nefarious.

Cold Blood - dragonphanfiction

Summary: Phil is a Vampire and Dan follows him out one day and a gang attacks Phil.

No More Bloody Secrets - realityisnoplacetolive

Summary: Happy Halloween!

Red Eyes, Ruby Lips, Scarlet Blood - so-much-cherry-everywhere

Summary: The year was 1863 and believe it or not, witch hunts still had not ended. Occasionally you’d see crowds gathered around lakes and bonfires, chanting all sorts of crude words, repeating ‘witch, witch, witch’. But what about vampires?

The Blood Fic (ao3) - Danisnotatop

Summary: Dan and Phil like to change it up sometimes.

[oriondagger]

Warpedwood Williams, Captain and Tavern Keeper of the Bloodlight Rock. Bloodlight Rock is a massive pirate lightship and tavern where pirates gather on weekends for drinks, easily identifiable at sea by the burning red glow atop its main mast. Captain Williams themself is a poltergeist who handcrafted their puppet body from driftwood themself.

[ask-party-pie]

layla bloodlight ask) do you do videos gamers theme party?

Miss Pie: Of course we do, sweetheart! We plan parties with any theme the client desires! Within reason, obviously. Though we've never planned a gamer party before, we'll be sure to do our best!

Candy Streamers: Ooh! What if we used blacklights? And plenty of snacks? Lots of monitors, and different genres of games....I could go on for hours with ideas!

[dismalia]

Continuing with the introductions to our featured slayers in Artfight 2023, we have the illustrious scholar of esoteric tomes, Urvall.

Urvall, The Dreadful Diabolist

Guild: Magal Mages Weapons: Bloodlight Spears, Telekinesis, Living Grimoires Style: Sorceress of Bloodlight, Impaler and Summoner Personality: Distraught, philosophical, contemplative. Height: 5ft 11in / 156cm Pronouns: She / Her “Levitating on the edge of insanity in her self-destructive pursuit of forbidden knowledge and untold power. Untangler of the intangible secrets of the world. Gazer of the Nightmare Above and abyss below. A wise visionary and arcane force to be reckoned with.”

[Artfight character page]

[fp-am]

I actually wanna hear more about that one Blood Moon AU (if by any chance this is an actual AU)

That AU is actually inspired off an existing Minecraft mod. The Blood Moon mod, where basically there’s a blood moon and every mob is hostile to the player.

I wanted to expand on it, so I created the AU. Basically, the sticks end up in a world w the blood moon and are run off from their portal due to the aggressive mobs. They find a cave for shelter. Blue comes a across a strange poppy (otherwise known as a Blood Poppy, a flower that bloomed under the bloodlight.) He takes it because he’s never seen it before and he thinks it looks pretty. While in the cave, Blue discovers that this plant shrivels when fed water, but after killing an aggressive bat, it grows. The flower requires death to bloom, but it can’t do that by itself. It manipulates Blue by promising to protect him and his friends from the aggressiveness of the outside world. His friends start to worry about Blue (specifically Yellow who has seen him talking to a literal plant.) Soon enough, the poppy latches onto Blue, giving him control over nature and allows for easier kills. This makes Blue want to stay in this world forever, just to protect his friends, twisting his visions a lot.

This au is of course still in the drafts along with the one I created yesterday with Shadow Purple, as they’re pretty similar, and I don’t wanna just copy and paste plot lines. I’ll have to work something out.