#Crimson is a piece of sh-!

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Oh. My. GOD.

That was a fucking trip!

Honestly that entire episode was a wild ride, and I looooved every minute of it!

CHAAAAZZZ!

This fucking guy just ate the scene every time he's in it, the man just oooozes sex and confidence.

Kinda like another Helluva Boss character...

Moving on! Seriously, I was so surprised that Chaz was both Millie AND Moxxies EX! Though I feel they were a little light on Millies past with him. But regardless, he was a fucking delight!

CRIMSON!

THIS MOTHERFUCKER! I knew Crimson would be a piece of shit, But FUCK ME, I was not expecting this level of depravity!

Crimson takes the fucking cake of abusive dads proving once and for all, only hillbillies are good parents. (I.e. Millies dad.)

This End fight!

Was.

Fucking.

LEGENDARY!

Honestly Millie was the GOAT of this episode, ain't nobody fuck with her man, But. Her!

I loved this whole episode and I'd love to hear your opinions, especially on Chaz's relationship with both Millie and Mox.

[tokkiiecloud]

WHB characters comfort after SH :

CW/TW : SH mentions ; Scars ; Blood ; OOC(?)

Characters : Satan ; Mammon ; Leviathan ; Beelzebub / Bael ; Lucifer ; Belphegor / Beleth

A/N : Sorry if anyone feels uncomfortable, I just needed that comfort for myself and all the people that are going through a tough time<3(and I apologize for how long it is) anyways I won’t be dragging this Author’s note any longer!

Heavy breathing, heart thumping loudly so much you could hear it from a mile away, eyes blurry from the tears. So to speak you were having a panic attack, it wasn’t the first one nor was it going to be the last one but it was a pretty bad one…you cover you’re ears but you could still hear the fast heartbeats. When suddenly you notice a small piece of glass on the ground, why was it there and how, didn’t even cross your mind but the moment you noticed it, you calmed down, you walked towards it and grabbed it.

(Slash) the first slash you were able to calm your nerves (slash) the second one the tears stopped (slash) the last one your heart calmed down too.

The crimson blood started flowing…how nice. Such a familiar and calming feeling, at every slash you couldn’t feel the glass cut you but it still was quite helpful.

After realizing what you did you had to find a way to hide them quickly and stop the blood but it was too late…someone already had called your name….

Satan :

He had called out to you, since he left to go do his ‘king duties’ but when he got closer he’s eyes widened. W…why was there blood on you? And why did you have a piece of glass in your hands did you inflict that pain into yourself?!

To say he was mad was an understatement :

“Why the fuck did you hurt yourself?!” He yelled.

You stayed quiet which made him even more mad, until he’s voice came low full of worry

“Am I unreliable? *sigh* you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to but…I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Tears started to form in your eyes once again at the gentle voice. He took you in his arms holding you close and rubbing your back. That’s what Paimon does to him when he has a depressive episode so bad he can’t even get up from his bed.

Successfully it calmed you down. Now to tend to your wounds…

Mammon :

“Master? Are you alright-“ he asks before his eyes see the blood flowing from your arm. He stares at you and quietly walks up to you and scoops you up in his arms. This was the first time you’ve ever seen such a complicated look in his eyes. You didn’t to speak up telling him not to worry. He held you in his arms and took you to the infirmary of Tartaros, yes there isn’t much doctors but he atleast knows how to take care of those cuts. After tending to your wounds his eyebrows furrowed and he kissed the bandaged forearms :

“Mammon I-“

“Master why?” He asked, his voice soft. He looked up at you eyes hurt and sad from the state you were in, you couldn’t just brush it off to not worry him..

“It’s just…i just… *sigh* It helps me…calm down.”

He stayed silent, after a bit you saw he started to tremble it really affected him seeing you hurt and not being able to help you.

“Mammon…”

“Master..! Please never again..if you need to calm down please I am begging don’t do it…I hate seeing you hurt..” you sigh and kiss Mammon’s forehead and cheek.

“I’ll do my best” at that he smiles softly at your words

Beelzebub / Bael :

( I cannot not include Bael y’all)

“Y/N? Is everything alright in here?” Bael asked worried as he entered the room to see you, with injured arms. “Did..did you hurt yourself?” He asked, you look away shameful that Bael saw you in a horrible mindset, he sighed and walked closer to you “oh my dear…” after this sentence Beelzebub bursts through the window “HEYYY” you flinch at his loud greeting and hide yourself in Bael’s arms, he understands quickly and embraces you.

“Bell, right now is not the time. Leave please.” Bael said coldly “Wooww this time you’re not forcing me to do my work Bael!~” He laughed before his aura turned menacing “You know, I hate sharing Bael right? Why are you holding them so close to you?” Before Beelzebub could continue questioning Bael he smells the scent of blood.

“…What. Happened.” He asks his tone devoid of all emotion. You try to hide yourself in Bael’s arms even more, you really did not want to face Beelzebub. He swiftly grabs you out of Bael’s embrace and his eyes widen at the sight of your arms and Bael’s bloodied suit. A bunch of questions traversed his mind at the same time which caused his train of thought to crash. But he quickly regained control and looked at Bael who nodded.

You don’t know how this happened but to treat you they ended licking you’re bloody arms and then disinfecting it and bandaging you up and after that Beelzebub stayed with you for the rest of the day with a bunch of snacks and blankets so you could relax and have those dark thoughts leave you while Bael who still had work to do, visited you two.

Leviathan :

He had walked in on you and immediately hanged you. You dropped the piece of glass you were holding instantly. After he made sure you didn’t have anything else to hurt you he stopped hanging and called his subordinates to take care of you.

But just because he let others take care of you wasn’t because he wasn’t worried and just found it bothersome, he is extremely worried sick and trying to understand why you would do that, was it because Hades wasn’t to your liking? Was he too harsh on you? Did a demon from Hades talk shit to you? He didn’t know which was it but it drove him nuts. He wished he could know what caused this but you would never tell him. So the least he could do was give you care and put you in a room without ANYTHING that could potentially be used for self harm bring you food and come visit you until you are ready to spill the beans.

He knocked three times on the door before entering bringing a plate of food:

“Here you go. I brought you some warm food. Since humans can’t go too long without food.”

He rolls his eyes. Shit he really didn’t mean to act like that. He clears his throat. “How much are you planning to keep me here?” You asked him not even looking up at the food plate.

He stayed silent he was going to keep you until you were going to talk to him. You sighed and just reached an arm for the food plate, he dodged your arm and sits down on a nearby chair :

“I’ll feed you.”

You look at Leviathan in disbelief…he would feed you?? That was actually nice he took care of you and was way more gentle than any other times he took care of you until your wounds recovered.

(Softie Levi???)

Lucifer :

The moment you came out of the room he was standing there with his arms crossed on his chest, eyebrow furrowed.

You looked away and dodged him since you did everything correctly you washed your arms and put some cream on to stop the bleeding and after put a few pieces of wet paper on them before rolling you’re sleeves back down.

“Show me your arms.” He said and it felt like you had lost control over your body and started unfurling your arms. He stared at it and sighed, before healing you.

Then he pulled you closer into a soft hug, where he rubbed your back.

“Tell me what happened.” You started to explain against your own will everything.

He pulled you closer and gently kissed you, still comforting you. You started sobbing again in his embrace holding him close.

Belphegor / Beleth :

It was beleth who caught you. He put down his cigarettes and started bandaging you up, while comforting you like an older brother would.

It was until Belphegor had woken up from his 10 hour long nap and saw Beleth accompany you outside of the room he wanted to call out but it was troublesome but he also wanted his pillow with him, so he called Beleth’s phone.

Beleth picked up and apologized, he explained to his king that you two had to be apart for a few days because of certain circumstances.

Belphegor yawned at that he really didn’t want to but he rolled his dice and it went on an even number so he got up to see what you two were up too.

You weren’t really far, at all actually just a few rooms down the hall. He entered the room and noticed saw you sobbing in Beleth’s arms, which kinda pissed him off seeing you into the arms of his babysi— I mean right hand man until Beleth noticed his king he hid you a bit more, knowing you probably did not want anyone else see you in this state and put a few blankets on you.

Belphegor walked over leisurely and was about to plop himself down on the bed when Beleth catches him. “Sorry yer Highness, but they want to be alone.”

Belphegor gave him a wide eyed glare

“ ‘xcuse me?” He didn’t want to be away from on of his best pillow and he also went through the trouble of getting up. Just to be refused like this? Your trembling voice echoed out “Belphegor, Beleth..please leave…”

“Wait I gotta take away whatever could hurt ya” Beleth carries Belphegor on his shoulder and grabs a few more sharp stuff in the room.

“Well let ya be now, please take care ’ll come back and give ya some food.”

You nod and look at Belphegor who doesn’t understand shit.

You mutter a ‘sorry’ as the two men leaves.

Outside of the room Beleth explained the situation to Belphegor as he sighed, he walked back into the room and finally put himself next to you grabbing you by the hips and bringing you closer to him, you look at him dumbfounded

“Belphegor…please I’m okay, you can go back to sleep-“

He shushes you by licking your neck.

“Shut it, I’m only here cause you suddenly left my side and you’re my best pillow.”

You blinked a few times before sighing, noticing Beleth entering the room again as Belphegor drifts off to sleep, holding you close it felt weirdly comforting.

Beleth smiled and lighted up another cigarette after leaving the room :

“Ya truly are a weird one, ‘yer majesty”

A/N : Hey hey hey!! Hope you guys enjoyed it, and if you are struggling with S/H, please talk to a professional able to help you but also know that I have faith in you, I know you’ll be able to stop this addiction even you fail to keep sober a few times you will succeed in staying sober for a lifetime!

Lots of love <3

[tanema123]

Hello this is a little thing I’ve been working on thanks to your Yandere post. Velvette is the Yandere.

"My sweet Carmilla, do not worry I will take you from this nightmare and truly make you mine." Velvette said, smiling from the shadows in Carmilla's closet.

————————————

"Thou art mine tonight, my angel..." He said while a mischievous grin was spreading on his face.

"What do you mean by that...?" Zestial's grin spread wider. He crushed his lips to Carmilla's. He was surprised when she was just as hungry as he was. He rolled over to place her on the bottom of him. God, she was so beautiful! He removed his lips from her mouth and began kissing her neck.

"Zestial!" She felt a sensation in her thighs. Zestial once more began to kiss her lips and his hands began roaming down her waist, feeling the curves of her body. Carmilla could feel him harden which made her blush. He removed his lips from her as he slowly began to pull down her black nightgown to her waist. He smiled at her and whispered "beautiful" before he pressed his lips on hers once more.

This was a night they would never forget...

————————————

Velvette heard screams coming from Carmilla. Was that bastard hurting her?! She moved through her hideout and peeked through the door where she could see that demon thrusting inside of Carmilla!

No! She must save her! Zestial claims to love her and then rape her? But, then she heard that the screams from Carmilla were more from pleasure than pain. "Zestial, deeper!" She heard her scream. God, did she actually want that monster inside her? No! He must have threatened her. She was her lover not that spider freak! No, she couldn't.

Carmilla was her’s and only her’s.

(Oh my god. I love it. Someone made a thing inspired by my post. *Happy tears*

It may take a while for the drawing to be done I mentioned I will do. I had a plan, and it got derailed....

Some stuff sneaked in. And I have some requests to do. But... I can offer you this instead)

Velvette doesn't know how to read

Velvette stormed off in the direction of the V tower. She was grumpling about Carmilla the whole way. She can't love that spider after all!

She is hers!

Her love!

Her woman!

As soon as she entered the tower, she passed Vox and Val making out in the middle of the living room, easily ignoring them and trotting to her humble abode.

Upon entering her room and slamming the door, she didn't stop. Instead she passed directly to the small side door.

The evil smile was evident as a light of day. She opened the door and turned the lights on, lighting up the area. She breathed in the smell.

The whole room was covered from head to toe, in pictures of one and only, Carmilla Carmine. They showed her every angle, every clothing piece, every hangout place and some were even in various states of undress.

Velvette indulged in them for only a bit... Before heading directly to the table. She opened a drawer, pulling out a doll.

"Finally, the thing I was working on will be done."

She grinned, excitement evident in her face. The doll she was holding looked exactly like Zestial. She hates that man, but it's necessary for it to work.

Velvette out the doll on the side for a bit. Taking the knife in her hand, she went to the middle of the room. She cut her hand, letting the blood drip, before drawing a circle combined with ruins.

As soon as her blood stopped she continued the plan, putting the doll in the middle. She smirked.

"And the last ingridient"

She pulled a long green silky thread from her pocket. Only one spider in the entire Hell has a thread like this. She tied it to the doll, before stepping back.

"I can curse him. Carmilla will surely be mine now!"

Velvette started chanting in a demonic tongue. The circle glowing a sickly red colour, proving it's doing some sort of magic. As Velvette finished the last words, the glow dispersed in an instant, as the thread became crimson.

Velvette started laughing manically.

"Haha...Haha... muahahhahahahahsh.

It worked! Now surely she will be mine!"

....

The next overlord meeting, 4 weeks later, she turned up late like usual. She got places to be after all. But what she didn't expect was to Zestial actually be present. And for Carmilla not to.

What is going on?!

"Where is the old hag"

Zestial groaned in annoyance as she entered.

"She will come shortly... She has an announcement to make."

Velvette was confused. Carmilla was never late, and now Zestial says she has some sort of announcement.

What the fuck did her spell do if it didn't kill him!

Right then, Carmilla Carmine herself entered. She looked normal as per usual. A bit more tired, but that's normal for her. She stood in front of the table barely giving them all a nod in a greeting. Barely acknowledging her. Velvette is getting angry. Why hasn't she said anything to her!

Carmilla coughed once to get their attention. She looked nervous.

"Before we start a meeting I have an announcement to make... I will be leaving the position for a bit and Zestial is taking over till I return."

Why the heck is she leaving! What the heck is going on! Velvette was in disbelief.

"What do you mean you are leaving?! What kind of reason would make Carmilla fucking Carmine leave for "a bit". You are the biggest workaholic we know"

That sentence brought all eyes onto Carmilla. She shifted in her place. Zestial is staring at her... Is he giving her some sort of go ahead to talk?! What kind of bullshit are they hiding?!

Carmilla finally spoke.

"I guess... I should say... It will avoid any problems in the future. It appears someone did a spell a while back around 4 weeks ago. We can't really track it as the spell was done so long ago and I haven't had the symptoms for a while."

Velvette's eyes widened. She did the spell, but Carmilla wasn't supposed to feel the symptoms. What is going on?!!?Did Velvette mess up?!?! She couldn't, she used Zestial's tread!

Rosie was instantly worried. And asked the question they were wondering.

"We can see you are not worried about dying Carms, otherwise you wouldn't be saying it like this. But there are no obvious sights that you are sick in any way. So what is going on?"

Carmilla breathed in, before smiling softly and putting a hand on her stomach.

"It seems it was some sort of fertility spell as currently I'm pregnant."

....

Velvette's mind: Fuck.

AND THAT'S HOW PEOPLE VELVETTE ACCIDENTALLY HELPED THEM WHILE READING FROM A WRONG PAGE.

I'm so glad you wrote this mysterious person. I hope you like my little add-on. 83

[brabblesblog]

What if it was Ban’s turn to dog sit scratch at the Crimson Palace? I’m sure Lord Ancunín would LOVE that 😅

Love is made of fur and dander

Alright! First ask I'm answering. This is a nice, rather fluffy AA piece for fun. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

The mutt's here. Here. In his Palace, in his home, tracking mud and fur and soil in its paws and gods know what else -

Astarion bites back the urge to yell at the wretched creature as it runs past where he's perched on his throne to Ban, who's seated on the floor, arms open for the mutt.

He sighs. "My dearest consort - you do realize how much fur this animal sheds, do you not? Do have some mercy on our floors and upholstery, please, and take him outside."

Ban looks up at him from the mess of white fur she's half-buried in, shooting him a small smile. "Oh, come on. It's only for a day, the servants can clean it all up afterwards, and the house will be none the worse for wear!"

He opens his mouth to retort; Ban gives him no chance. "Besides," she adds, "didn't werewolves use to live here? I remember seeing them the day we did the rite."

"They were a fairly recent addition by Cazador," Astarion replies, crossing his legs irritably. "Only summoned once I had escaped. And that doesn't trivialize any of my concerns; if anything it only proves them accurate - did you not see the sheer amount of fur littering the house that day?"

He's not mad, he thinks. Just... piqued. His beloved always has a penchant for loving strays. This dog, the owlbear that he worried would eat them one day, and, well - himself, if he's being honest.

Astarion watches more intently, leaning forward on his throne, watching his wife disappear into white fur yet again. He feels a slight pang of sympathy for the mutt, a creature who was picked up from certain doom by Ban, who's been given a new lease in life, who's been accepted by her, loved by her - and hopelessly loves her in turn.

Choosing to momentarily ignore that rush of affection in his breast the Ascendant stands and approaches the pair. The moment he's close he regrets it; Scratch immediately bounds towards him, standing up on its haunches in an attempt to lick his face. The dog's forepaws land on the cream lapels of his suit and he curses, despairing of what its condition will be.

"Gods! I've half a mind to drink you dry, mutt!" he hisses, only to be met by his wife's incensed glare. Ban calls Scratch back to her, and holds him protectively.

"Astarion," she chides. "He is a dog. He does not know any better."

"Yes, I am fully, painfully, aware of that fact - but look at my suit!" He gestures at the cream soiled by mud, the rest of the suit none too worse for wear other than for a smattering of dander.

She shrugs. "And so are my clothes. We can have it washed. Stop whinging." Ban finally stands, patting her thigh to ask the dog to follow her. "We're heading to the bedroom. I'd very much like to nap, and I missed cuddling Scratch like we used to in camp."

The Vampire Ascendant, the greatest vampire in all the realms, splutters at those words. Their bed. Really? When Ban has always been so precious about the sheets, asking him to remove your shoes, please and don't wear anything other than nightclothes on the bed, my love and yet she'll let Scratch stay there?

"Ban," he manages to grit out, jaw clenched. "The bed. Are you serious?"

"Oh, completely," she says, not even looking back. "You're free to join us, you know."

He watches them go, crossing his arms. No. Under no circumstances is he joining them. Never mind that they used to do that, back in their adventuring days, Ban wrapped in his arms while the dog slept on top of them. Never mind that it was comfortable, even nice - and oh gods, is he actually considering this?

Ban peeks her head out from the mass of white licking her face to see her husband walk in, a sullen look on his face. He's taken his clothes off save his underwear in some ridiculous attempt to save them, she realizes; she can't help the bark of laughter that crosses her at this.

He glowers, then sits at the edge of the bed. "I had nothing better to do, so I'll indulge you this," he grumbles, "but you can never complain about clothes on the bed ever again. Is that a deal?"

She frowns, weighing it; Scratch chooses that moment to bound over to Astarion again. Despite himself he lets his hand run through the dog's fur, the feeling of it sending him back to those days at camp. He absently cards through the white, coarse hairs, smiling a little.

"Fine," Ban finally says. "You can wear whatever you wish to the bed, but -"

"I know," he says, "no footwear of any kind is allowed; I am fully aware. You needn't remind me every single time."

She rolls her eyes. "Well you need reminding, considering how many times you do it."

Another sigh and he finally crawls towards her, grabbing her by the waist and tugging her close. He presses himself against her back, placing kisses down her jaw to her throat. "Can I tempt you into something a little more interesting than a nap, darling?"

She chuckles, and as she does Scratch settles over his usual spot on top of their legs; Astarion groans at the reminder.

"I suppose that's a no," he mumbles, and Ban's bark of laughter is all the confirmation he needs.

He lets out an exaggerated, long suffering sigh, then settles against her. "If only I didn't love you so much, Ban," he whispers right against her ear.

"Ah, don't pretend, Astarion." She turns to place a kiss on his lips, one he returns with eagerness. "We both know you enjoy this too."

He harrumphs, but knows the battle is lost. Not that he minds much, really.

This, after all, is nice.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog@asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind@pursuitseternal @youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @girlygmer-blog @cheezits4lyfe @vinegarjello @the0ldmann @wisteriaofthegraves @girlygamer-blog

[gartenofbanny]

Hello! I am currently trying to make a document including all evidence of Viv's problematic behaviour, and since you're quite popular in the critical community, I wanted to ask your opinion on the structure of it. If I missed anything feel free to correct me!

Vivziepop is a horrible person

I-early signs

-Nazi sausage party ocs (inspred by doctor Mengele, following a nazi blog

-drawing Kesha and glorifying her illness

-Zoophobia (contains the Addison drawings, Mirage being depicted as goofy when she's a pedo, Sahara and Latika designs

-supporting blaire white and Shoe0nhead (her too since Shoe has recently been revealed as a neo nazi)

-transphobia (discord messages)

-drawing Mimzi as a caricature/stereotype of Jewish people

II-Spindlehorse & twitter

-Raphielle shipping valangel, saying their a proshipper and still working on SH

-Following multiple proshippers, including someone who used audios of REAL kids for his digital CP and someone who actively ships Rick/Morty

-allowing and encouraging the harrasment of people who critique her shows to the point they are forced to come out or receive rape threats

-Blaming A24 for the lack of competent advertisement on Hazbin Hotel and replacing the voice cast

-encouraging harassing Erin Frost and Kendraw for coming out with their experience with her

-Studio reviews revealing the nepotism and abuse in the SH studio

III- The shows

-finn/ cole was made cis when he was originally trans

-sally mae only regarded by the fandom as a trap or futa, sexualised in every piece of her merch with her dick being emphasized to the point the fandom fetishizes her

-alastor being made creole or mixed as an afterthought, when Viv had already used real life voodoo symbols, very clearly inspiring alastor from Wendigos without any research, made him white as paper and depicted him as the 100th " asexual and aromantic person is an evil murderer!".

His asexuality and possible aromanticism is always ignored by the fandom in favor of shipping, and inclusive Vivziepop even said to do as they pleased with his sexuality for shipping.

-forced positivity, pushing the idea that even murderers, abusers and horrible people can change hazbin hotel

Depicting abuse (Crimson hitting Moxxie, the whole Valangel tag existing) and sexual assault (again woth Moxxie and angel) as funny jokes or sexy

-Noticing a pattern, Viv tends to promote M/M relationships a lot but depicts them as overtly sexual, predatory and toxic, and seems to have a problem with having "twink" characters abused sexually in a yaoi-ish way (Addison, Moxxie and Angel, Vox. Stolas/blitz too.)

-the only two people of color that are confirmed are Alastor, Velvette and Valentino. Velvette's color is very ashy and she is often infantilised (this might have more to do with her being a woman in Vivs eyes) she presents no POC features at all, neither does Valentino who is a stereotypical black man who is a pimp, abusive (sexually too) and has a short temper.

-using "it's hell " as an excuse to make horrible characters to glorify and depict as the true victim while doing nothing to become better. (Ex. Stolas is a rapist , Blitzo Sexually harrasses his co-workers and is very toxic, Alastor is a serial killer.) Depiction is not glorification, but Viv actively makes it seem like all of it is okay to do and has a show who has a very negative message that affects the viewers and fanbase into excusing disgusting shit.

-disrespecting religion by not accurately researching the demons she talks about

-Sexist writing in helluva and hazbin that favores males(Loona,Millie,Stella, Verosika)

-ableist language by Blitzo, refusal to acknowledge this and even joking about not being able to say a slur

-collaborates with Brandon Rogers,whose work is clearly sexist,racist,homophobic and ableist

-making fun of eating disorders (Moxxie)

-involving kesha in her show while she is trying to get justice for being abused and trying to recover, making the character she voices based on all the things she hated about herself

-included famous voice actors, pays thousands for them but actively underpaid and overworked her staff

-No trigger on an episode that contained Blitzo vomiting

-Barbie wire grooming a teenager is considered a joke (and the tweet doesn't count, we should be able to tell if the teen was actually older by his design or any line of dialogue, if those who don't have twitter won't know it means it's a problem)

-various incest jokes hinting at proshipping (Moxxie/Millie, and a rumor +dialogue cues hint at Andrealphus and Stella being in a relashionship)

-merch of almost all female characters being somewhat sexual

-depicting the Woman/Man as the only healthy relationship (Moxxie/Millie) while the queer couples are toxic (Chaz/Moxxie Blitzo/Stolas)

Holy shit that's a long read, I suggest you make that into a blog post or something. The only portion I can assume that you got correct is the third section. Most of the first two sections are spot on to me, but I am not sure if they're both completely correct because I'm not really aware of what Vivziepop did in the past, just what she has been doing since like last year. Sorry to disappoint, but it is pretty great from what I'm reading.

Modify it to what you think is best so that people will read from it and test read it yourself in case you got something wrong. I suggest you use Grammarly for grammar or spelling issues because even though English is my first language I still struggle with those

[tatelangdonsgirl]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 | ᴛᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴅᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀeader

♡TW!!!!! sh, swearing, b!00d, no smut♡

"If you love someone, you should never hurt them"

A/N~ post-death Tate. y/n means your name. you and Tate have been dating for a few months. you've had a hard time dealing with your parents divorce and Tate catches you with a b!ade in the bathroom.

♡not proofread and not in my first language!♡

pretty short<3 i was tired (kinda cringe)

You slammed the bathroom door behind you and clicked it shut, the sound making you shutter. You were on the ground before you could take a deep breath. You didn't even realize you were shaking until the b!ade in your hand pressed unpleasantly against your palm. The floor swayed beneath you as you arose from the cold tile to meet your reflection in the mirror. Your stomach pained in protest.

god i hate myself,

you thought. your eyes lazily dragged to the shiny piece of metal, eyes blurry from the tears racing each other down your pink flushed cheeks.

(TWW graphic mention of sh, skip to the "♡ "if you prefer )

The thin blade drew your pain into the scarred canvas of your arm. watching as the red beads of blood began to pool at the thin mark you've created. you try again, this time harder, praying for any sense of relief, but before you finish the fourth cut, blade partialy in your arm, a familiar voice startles you.

♡"Y/n?", Tate asks.

you jump, dropping the blade and hiding your arm behind you, purely out of habbit.

"Tate.." you breathed shakily.

Tate noticed the bright shade of crimson that told on you, a juxtaposition against your white hoodie.

"Y?N! What did you do?!", he asked and grabbed your arm, being mindful of the fresh wounds.

"I.." You began before completely breaking down in his arms.

"shit", he swore under his breathe.

"Do you have a fucking death wish?!"

Tate's eyes watered.

"Y/n..why would you do this.."

"its okay.. Im not mad"

Even though Tate promised he wasnt mad at you, you still felt guilty. He cleaned your wounds after kissing each and every of your scars. He lied with you the rest of the day and even let you be the little spoon♡♡

"i love you, Princess." he whispered once he knew you were asleep.

♡ THE END ♡

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Falling for you, a little too literally

SS!Link x Reader

TW: Attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, implied SH, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone lives, soulmate AU if you squint.

Hope y’all enjoy, let me know what y’all wanna next! Not beta read and i’ve been up for 18 hours 😙✌️

-🌲

It didn’t take a genius for someone to know something was up. Your best friend was missing, your other (definitely not romantically interested) best friend chased after her, and you were left alone. Normally, this wouldn’t bother you too much. Between all of your classes, working maintenance at the bazaar and every other little task of life, you get busy every now and then. You appreciated a little time alone every now and then especially when things got rough. But that’s not to say you didn’t miss Link nor Zelda. No. It was quiet cold nights like this things got bad. Skyloft is tiny, suffocating, even. Everyone breathing down your neck and all the eyes watching and all the expectations…. You were the equivalent of glass beneath someone’s boots. But this time, there was no one to pick up the shards left of you. No one to cradle the broken pieces and reassure you that it’d all be ok. No one to wrap up your wrists after you searched out the proof of your humanity, proof of you not being a monster despite feeling otherwise. No. Today you were alone. And you were yesterday and you would be tomorrow. You were honestly just tired. So many sympathetic stares and questions, so many people trying so hard to make you feel seen and yet they never listen when the words finally spill. They’d tell you they cared and yet they never acted like it when you were down to the wire. With a heavy sigh you pushed yourself off the floor of your dorm room.

It took roughly 10 minutes to see everything again, sneaking through the knight’s hall, your eyes lingering on Link’s door for half a second to long. You felt a tug dragging your heart downward, your mind starting its spiral again. You passed by everything you wanted to see one last time. The goddess statue, The bazaar, The main plaza, the lake before finally getting where you needed to go. The wind pushed you to the tombstone, you kicked it to the side and watched the tiny passage open. You fell through to the wooden platform below, leaving you alone at last. Truly alone. No one to stop you from leaving this time.

Link POV:

Battered and bruised he stumbled out of the temple, Eldin’s heat causing his caramel locks to stick to his forehead. Too late. He was too late. Too slow. Not enough. Never enough. He sighed, the image of you flicking through his mind. He hoped so badly he was enough for you. Sometimes it’s all that kept him going, those funny little memories. Cooking when you’d both missed dinner, flying around on your loftwings, sharing gifts on the winters solstice, all proof he was enough. That he was loved. He hoped you knew you were loved to. He hoped so much for you both, hoped even when you couldn’t. Hoped that there’d be brighter days for you both, hoped he could make it back to you alive. Hoped that one day your eyes would meet his with the same amount of adoration. Goddesses, He hoped.

Walking up to the stone carved loftwing, a breeze of wind sent him upward with his sailcloth. He extended his arms, letting the wind greet him before whistling for Crimson. But… something was off. Crimson lunged and dived erratically, never following his directions, something Link hadn’t seen before from his avian companion. So, with hesitance, He let Crimson fly. He would’ve been impressed at the speeds he managed to gain, Skyloft no longer a tiny dot in the sky, but a quickly approaching landmark. But his heart sank quickly from its place when he realised what it was that had Crimson riled up. His other half was falling and there would be not (f/c) loftwing to catch them.

You POV:

The wind felt nice brushing past your fingertips, a (f/c) feather loosely pinched between your forefinger and thumb. Your other half. You hoped they wouldn’t be lonely when you were gone. Ownerless Loftwings usually weren’t cared for as well, not fairing well without their beloved hylian. But maybe Link and Zelda would take care of them. Maybe. Your hair was in tangles as you finally met the clouds, finally dismissing your title as burden, finally freeing those around you from needing to worry. Your weight lurched upward, stomach twisting at the sudden deceleration. You hadn’t whistled for your loftwing? Why are you?- Your fingers were met with soft carmine down, your frame cradled between familiar arms.

“Link - I…” You were breathless, perhaps the air was thin or you were too flustered to speak. He was silent, One hand wrapping around your mid to pull you closer to his front as you flew. He navigated to the closest island, a small patch of dirt and grass, a little tree near its center. He offered a calloused hand after you landed. You didn’t look him in the eye as you dismounted the loftwing, to scared the shame his stare would bring you.

“(y/n)” His voice, you’d been longing to hear it for weeks. To soft and rhythmic, a song to your ears. But now, you felt ashamed for causing him such worry, even with all that’s happened with Zelda, you still managed to make yourself a nuiscence. His hands reached for yours, taking them ever so gently, as if cherishing them. You met his eyes, the color of storms, of the bold sky, your favorite color. He looked so tiered, freckled skin slightly sunburnt, hair tousled, eyes pooled with worry. But before you could find it in you to feel worse, he pulled you close. He hugged you so tightly, as if you’d run to fall again the second his grip faltered. He buried his face in your hair, kissing the crown of your head and keeping you there, not a single word said. And it was like all the pressure on you finally shattered, you sank into him, and let yourself break. He held you so carefully as you sobbed into his tunic. He whispered all sorts of comforting things into you ears, but you get a sense of pleading urgency within his voice you hadn’t caught before.

“Please don’t leave. Don’t go. I won’t need to long. I won’t be late to save you. I’ve got you, i’ll be here as long as you need. Sky or surface, i’d find you if it ment i could have you again.” His words were a quiet promise between the two of you as he pressed soft kisses to either side your temples, eyes searching your own. You guided one of his hands to your cheek, unable to stop yourself from its warmth. He was enamoured by your actions, letting you do as you pleased so long as you’d be happy. You pressed a small kiss to the inner of his wrist and were met with a small, albeit tired smile.

“If you fall, i’ll catch you. Just maybe not that literally next time”

You both laughed lightly, he’d always made things a little lighter. And with his goofy smile you couldn’t go without seeing, you finally gave in. He kept that same wobbly smile as your lips met, content to just have one another once again? even if the situation that led you here was difficult to navigate. You looked between your childhood friend, and his loftwing that had saved you when no one else even knew you had fallen. Perhaps it was your soul that had called out. Perhaps your other half had heard your souls last weeping cry and responded. But it didn’t matter when you had your hero to chase away the bad thoughts what led you to the ledge. Not a knight or the Hero. Your knight, Your Hero, Your Link.

[ask-robokasa-and-rui]

Lore Post//

It was noon. While everyone was out, Ena was looking after the house. She was working on the robot Saki and she was designing. She hired a engineer to help her build the Emu robot. It was finally done.

Okay! It's all done miss!

Oh thank you soo much!! You really don't know how much this means to me!

Haha! It's my pleasure! Now, let's starts this up!

The worker (girl), turns on the Emu robot. The robot opens it's eyes

Great!! Amazing! Now we just need coding from Kanade and she'll be able to talk! Emu! Walk to me!

Emu walks towards Ena

Okay okay! Shake my hand!

Emu shakes her hand.

Okay...Saki will love you!!

...

Suddenly the robot grabbed Ena's hand

Huh?

Tw: Graphics description.

Emu injects a needle in her palm that make a loud crack sound. From the inside, all her bones broke. Her eyes fall out of her socket but they are still connected to the muscles. Her teeth shatter and the little vines stick out of the roots like little tree branches. Her head now look like a piece of meat, ready to be rotten.

AAAAH!!! M-MISS?!

Emu takes a look at the engineer. Her eyes shine a crimson pink. If that color even exits...

3 hours later...

KANANDEEEEE~!!! ENAAAA~!!! GUESS WHO'S BAAAACK~!!!

Saki shouts.

Be quiet...maybe they're sleeping...it's late after all...

Nah! I'm sur-sniff sniff....Eww!! What's that smell?!

Eugh!! I smell it too..!

Augh, it's coming from Ena's room! Did she sh!t on the bed or something?! ENA-

Saki swings the door open. Only to see...

This.

Tags: @aspenii @k3nnn1th @bobcross1010 @blankblyke @delartz @kusanagi-nene-official-mod @mai-mai-mai @scodscod @kiwi-does-stuff @mizuribbons

[f0rg0ttenfaith]

A little bit on Kinger's backstory!

TW BECAUSE OF DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD, SH, AND A LOT OF GORE.

A scream echoed throughout the checkered room.

Blood-stained white gloves flew up to a white king chess pieces head, wide eyes shooting everywhere.

Alive? He was alive! Still.. still alive....

Kinger shuddered. He could still feel his hardened wooden skin trying to pull itself back together. It was a horrible feeling after death in the digital hell he was trapped in.

F$*+!  Stil stuck in this s&×>hole!

He felt like screaming.. but then his mind snapped to something else.

Or someone.

"QUEENIE!" Kinger shouted, worried for his friend, jumping up out of his bed and out of the room.

His entire body was sore but d÷&$ he didn't care.

He ran down the hall, rapping violently at the door with the black queen chest pieces face printed on it.

His mind was racing with every possibility.

He was hoping the worst one was wrong.

He kept shrieking her name, his fists hitting the door harder and harder until they bled.

And then the door shot open.

Kinger's eyes shot wide open, and he stumbled backwards. He was horrified.

Her eyes bulged, blood-shot and looking like they would actually snap out of her head. Her hands clawed at her own chest, blood staining the white rim of her robe and her gloves.

Her eyes landed on him, and she slid forwards a step, one hand forcefully reaching out to him.

Kinger fell back, shaking as her hand brushed against the side of his face, staining his wood red with blood.

Her last words to him would be remembered by him forever.

"Kinger, please.. listen to me. Don't look at them, don't listen to them, and dont speak to them," the queen choked out, her final vague warning, shrieking as the side of her wooden head cracked open, dark red blood spilling out from the wound, her eyes flying off and thumping against the floor.

Kinger couldnt watch any longer as his robes were stained crimson.

He forced her off, shooting up and running back into his room.

Caine would handle it! Caine always handled the abstractions and made the residents feel better! ...But Caine's antics weren't enough this time.

As Kinger slammed his door shut, he let out an ear-pericing shriek, clawing at his own eyes as he kept screaming, not stopping until his throat hurt and burned, not stopping until his hidden mouth snapped open to cough out blood.

By the time he was done screaming, he couldnt hear, deafened by his own screams of anguish, terror, and anger.

His eyes were in his hands, the feel of his own blood running down his face would be terrifying if the screams didnt rid him of his sorrow already.

He didnt know if he could feel the same way he ever did before.

And he didn't want to.

[astrowhump]

Junior #2

TW: restraints, aftermath of drugging, threats, objectification, torture devices (this chapter’s mostly talk and no action tbh)

[previous chapter]

“Rise and shine, lovely.”

Noah grunts, his head feels as if it was run over by a car time and time again. He tries to gather his memory, his thoughts scattered and intangible; then they start rushing to his brain in slides, not in chronological order, but he grasps a sense of where he is and then everything falls into place—

“YOU FUCKING-“

“Sh sh sh shhhh.” His captor wraps a piece of cloth around his mouth, it slides onto his tongue and between his teeth as he tightens it behind his head.

“I’d watch that mouth if I were you, sugar” he coos in his ear.

He tries to use his hands, and that’s when he notices his position; his arms hang above his head, restrained by cufflinks that connect to the ceiling. He must’ve been left there for quite a while, his arms feel devoid of sensation.

He knows he can only make muffled noises through the gag, and what would be the point of that? He stops making a noise alltogether; instead, his eyes - filled with disgust and hatred- stare into those of the smug bastard, who only smirks back, clearly looking at him from a position of power.

“You’re quite the heavy sleeper…Noah,” He drags out his name on purpose, emphasising that he knows his identity even though Noah never introduced himself…to either of them. He remembers now, there were two of them, a…Junior, where did that one go?

His eyes wander around in search of the boy, but other – more interesting – objects catch his attention. He’s chained to the ceiling right in the middle of what looks like a dungeon. He sees a wall covered with a collection of whips -various models, shapes and designs- in an orderly arrangement. The wall across from him is where the door is, heavy-looking metal, and a tad over-polished, especially for a basement.

The wall to his left is what makes his bones shiver inside his body. There’s a wooden board attached to the wall with multiple leather straps on it; he can guess what each one’s supposed to restrain by the placement of them – there’s one for the neck, four for the arms and four for the legs- but the most gruesome part of that wall isn’t the vertical wooden bed, not even the medeival piercing handcuffs and worn-out pliers that hang next to it; It’s the blood that paints almost every inch of the cement in crimson. He can spot different patterns from different types of slashes, some consistent with long shallow blows of something light-weight and some with slow and deep cuts of a blade.

The whole room looks like a serial killer’s bullet journal; everything is neatly positioned and has its own place, and some of the items look purely aesthetic. Then there’s the wall of memoir, with the most disgusting traces left of his victims; the only part of the room that lacks structure.

“I can see you’re blown away by the decoration. Took me a while to design the whole place…with a personal touch.”

‘Your decoration makes me sick and you’re fucked in the head’ is what Noah wants to say, however, he can only frown, as he doesn’t have many muscles free to communicate; but he makes sure his facial expression gives his captor a hint of his thoughts.

“I try to be humble about it, but I can’t lie, I really am proud of how it turned out.”

He giggles as he speaks, like an excited little girl ranting about her new dollhouse.

“I imagine you have a bunch of questions, most of them do.”

Noah rolls his eyes in their sockets so hard he could see inside his brain. It doesn’t take a psychic to realize anyone in his position would have questions, and a rising urge to skin the man alive.

His captor doesn’t seem pleased. He grips the boy’s jaw, staring through his eyes and straight into his soul.

“oh I am gonna have so much fun breaking that attitude out of you…”

He lets go of the grip, sliding the gag out of his mouth as he retracts his hand. Every cell in Noah’s body tells him to spit on his face, to curse and scream and chew on the asshole’s neck. He takes a deep breath in, and decides not to waste the chance he’s been given; the guy looks too mentally unstable, he’d rather not try his patience.

“Who are you?” he asks first. Speaking hurts his dry throat.

“I was preparing for a scream, but I guess you knew better…”

His prisoner doesn’t react, still waiting on his answer.

“I’m Alexander, but you’ll refer to me as Sir. I’ll be taking care of you…for as long as you last.”

‘you’re doing one hell of a job taking care of me’ Noah barely swallows down.

“Why did you capture me? Why am I hanging from the ceiling like a slaughtered cow?” he couldn’t help the bitter comment, the thought was sitting heavy on his tongue, waiting to be spat out. Alex doesn’t seem to mind.

“Because I was bored, Junior’s hardly any entertainment anymore.” He answers honestly; not like honesty makes the sick content of what he says any better.

“why- what are you planning to do to me?” The bitterness in Noah’s voice is now replaced by worry. He gets visibly nervous and he can’t help as it leaks into his words.

“I’m gonna play with you, sugar. I’ll mold your mind, body and soul into submission and I’ll have my fun doing that. When you lose your…spark, you’ll be discarded and I’ll take on a new project. Simple as that.”

Something about that sentence, being referred to as a new project -a breakable object- makes Noah’s gut churn. He tries his damned hardest to stop his jaw from trembling and tears from falling. False hope, as Alexander notices the glint of tears in his eyes and his lips open to a faux-sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay to be scared, I would be too.”

He catches a tear that falls astray from his boy’s eyes with his knuckles.

“Last question?”

“w-w-why me?” He wants to slap himself across the face for the embarrassing quiver in his voice. The man seems to think about that one for a second before answering blandly.

“…You were at the wrong place, at the wrong time, and you made all the wrong choices.”

It can’t just be that, he can’t just end up in a horror movie because he decided to help out a person in need. He can’t just be randomly dragged into a torture chamber when he did nothing to deserve it. It’s unfair. He shouldn’t be here…but he is, and there’s not a single limb in his body he can move to protest. He no longer tries to gulp down his sobs.

“Enough chit chat for now, sweetheart. I’ll let you settle in for today, we’ll start the fun tomorrow. “

The gag gets shoved into his mouth again and the man leaves him there to weep, bound and truly miserable.

[next chapter]

I’m tagging people who reblogged the first chapter here, please tell me if you want on or off the taglist @ladygwennn @darkthingshappen @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @thelazywitchphotographer @horribleauthortm @angelwhump

[cheegu3]

Hi! Love your writing! I wondered, do you take requests? Because it's so hard to find any yandere P1Harmony fanfic, I'd love for you to do one with Theo! Thank you ❤️❤️

hi, thank you <3 I do take requests for p1harmony :) here's a small one-shot I randomly came up with - I hope you like it!

tw / trigger warning; yandere themes, abuse, bullying/harassment, swearing, blood, dead animals (mice and crows)

wc; 1k

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗼 - 𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘆

You were already late to school, running while hauling the heavy backpack filled with books behind you. By the time you reached the school gates you were panting. Sweat beads decorated your forehead and your arm felt heavy from the weight you had carried.

Luck was certainly not on your side as you quickly realised that the gate was locked. Groaning frustratedly you kicked it, letting it feel the temper that came from you having a bad day.

'' Stupid piece of sh- ''

You kicked it extra hard and was thrown back by the force, crashing right into a hard chest before you plummeted to the ground. Horrified, apologies started spilling out of your mouth at a rapid speed. But when the person hadn't spoken yet, you finally dared to raise your eyes and see who it was.

Of course it was him - Theo. The golden child of the school. Rich and popular, which was often accompanied by being an entitled asshole. He was quite influential at school due to his dad's money, and therefor he was the teachers' favourite.

As soon as you met those eyes narrowing while inspecting you, you knew by that action alone that you had fucked up.

'' Do you know who I am? '' he spat out, hands in his pockets while stepping closer so you were forced to be pressed up against the gate.

The way he said it made your blood boil. Like you were supposed to know who he was by his appearance alone, because he was that important. When in reality he had gotten the placement at this prestigious school handed to him without having to lift a finger; not even close to needing to fight tooth and nail for it like you had. It felt incredibly unfair, and you were reminded of it any time you saw him in the halls.

The distaste must've shown on your face because he raised his brow.

'' Well? '' he taunted, knowing you were on the verge of exploding.

You exhaled sharply through your nose like an angered bull and loosened the shaking clenched fists that were hanging to your sides; finally fixing your expression because you didn't want to upset the golden boy.

'' Yes. '' you answered flatly.

The boy in front of you scoffed and then brought a keycard out from his pocket, brushing against you as he put it against a sensor to the side of your head. A click could be heard before it was replaced by the sound of scraping metal as the gate slowly opened.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the newfound information that Theo - of course had his very own keycard just like the teachers.

You quickly darted in between the gate even though it was only halfway open. You couldn't wait to get away from him.

'' Aren't you gonna say thank you? ''

Unfortunately you didn't notice the warning in his low voice, mistaking it for petty and childish need for admiration. So you kept walking without looking back. You'd come to know very soon however, that you were not on the golden boy's good side now.

As the first class of the day had finished you headed to your locker like you always did. The books needed to be swapped out for new ones, which was easy to do since you kept it organised and clean - but when you opened it this time, it was anything but that.

Fresh, crimson blood was splashed on your notebooks and textbooks, some smeared on the top of the locker, and it seemed to come from a dead mouse laying in the center of it.

You gasped, slamming it shut immediately. A few students passed by and gave you weird looks while you struggled to breathe, backing away from the locker.

It was best not to react or tell anyone; you didn't want any rich kids spreading rumours of you. After all, that would lessen your chances of getting friends.

All you could do now was to read off of your seatmate's textbook and then clean it out late in the afternoon, when the school had cleared out. You spent the whole day pondering of who the perpetrator could be, but by the end of it you still didn't have the slightest of idea of who could've done such a horrific thing, not yet at least.

While walking home that evening you felt eyes on you. It was an eerie feeling you couldn't shake off. At first you suspected it was because of the locker incident, but your intuition was almost never wrong. Someone was definitely following you.

Thankfully you made it home, but even then you didn't feel safe. Anxiety occupied your brain, making it hard to study or focus on anything but the paranoid thoughts.

BANG

A sudden loud noise interrupted you. You pushed yourself off your bed, cautiously nearing the window where it seemed to have come from.

Below it laid a crow that wasn't moving, and yet again you saw smeared blood in front of you; all over the glass.

You suppressed the urge to scream, as shock was written all over your face.

This time you didn't shy away from it. A part of you gnawing inside told you that this wasn't a coincidence. So you took a deep breath and then confidently marched outside, only the small flashlight from your phone glowing in the darkness.

First you didn't see anything. The poor crow laid alone with no sign of the culprit around. But then you turned the flashlight so it could shine towards the bushes near the road, and you got eye-contact yet again with those same eyes. The ones that had carried so much arrogance and hatred, only just this morning.

'' Theo? ''

He hummed while casually standing up from his crouched position, brushing off the leaves on his pants before strolling over to you. His usual perfectly styled pink hair was messy, ruffled with leaves and had some sticks stuck in it. Why was he so bothered by you that he was willing to mess up his picture-perfect appearance to hurt you?

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to look confident and perhaps a bit intimidating. But you were sure it was failing by the look of pure amusement on his face.

'' Why are you doing this? ''

A painfully slow smirk spread across Theo's face, sending alarm bells ringing inside your entire body.

'' Because - '' he stepped closer, reminding you of his domineering aura he had during the morning when he had invaded your space so casually. Towering over you he leaned down, and said almost mockingly.

'' I fucking hate bad manners. ''

He laughed haughtily.

'' You should've just said thank you. ''

[justaduckarts]

Whatcha think about SH au angst? Hurt/no comfort, full on angst, tears, pain and suffering. Please do snatch our hearts and break them into many pieces right in front of our eyes. I crave angst

Hello!

Oh. Ooof. Man. You are havin' a rough one, huh? Alright bud. Lemme cook you something <3

These events will not be canon, for reasons of 'no comfort'! However, some spoilers ^^'

TW: Major Character Death, Blood, Hurt no comfort

How could this have happened?

Orange hands trembled as he looked down at the blood caked on his fingers.

What was it all for?

Standing tall under the proudly shining sun, his brother of the same namesake. At his feet, your broken body lay in the grass. Eclipse could scarcely look.

The light of the star in Sun's hands had turned a wicked crimson thanks to the blood soaked into the radiant object.

Eclipse had promised himself. He'd promised to spare you.

And he had failed. He'd failed in every regard.

Sun's laughter echoed across the fields. The sun burned so bright, it began to scorch the earth. Eclipse could hear the way his brother's laugh twisted and changed. Sounding nothing like the brother he'd loved once upon a time.

Pluto and Moon had already collapsed. They couldn't keep fighting. Lunar was slowly losing his strength.

It was over.

Sun won the war.

And you were gone.

Taking a shaky breath, Eclipse got to his feet.

He summoned his spear.

At one time, he had prayed that the war could be won without casualty. Something he knew was impossible.

Now, though.

Now he only prayed that in dying he would take his corrupt brother with him.

Sun pressed the star into his own chest. He grunted, feeling the sacred object burn its way into his body. Finally. Finally, he'd won.

The radiant god drew his sword and pointed it at his brother.

"Surrender now! Or I will cut you down." He grinned, sharp teeth shining in the afternoon light. Eclipse sighed, shaking his head.

"I can't do that." Eclipse's grip on his spear was so tight, his fingers left impressions. His lower hands rose, forming a small sigil.

"You're going to lose," Sun's voice was layered now. Eclipse could hear the demon's voice slowly taking over. Whatever was left of Sun was vanishing rapidly.

"Hubris will be your folly," Eclipse retorted. His hands parted. Shadows exploded across the field. The dark god had hoped he wouldn't have to use this spell. It would take nearly all of his energy.

Horrified white eyes watched as the shadows raced up towards the heavens.

"No." The demon that was once his brother shook its head. "No!"

Still, the shadows spread. They enveloped the sun like a blanket, painting the sky the color that your body had painted the grass.

Sun shrieked.

He rushed at Eclipse. Furious. Frightened. He couldn't lose now. He'd come so far.

No matter how strong or impressive a god may seem, it is still a physical being.

And no being that ever walked on two legs has survived without its head.

It took one swipe.

Sun's body continued to step, even as the head rolled about the burnt grass.

One step. Two.

Just far enough to jab the tip of his sword into Eclipse's chest. Right over where the mark that connected the god of darkness to you resided.

What cruel fate.

Eclipse felt himself bleeding, but did nothing to stop it. He walked past the collapsed body of his brother. Past Moon, healing the sobbing Pluto's wounds. Past Lunar, who sat among a pile of previously possessed cultists.

Eclipse knelt beside you in the grass. He gathered your broken body in his arms.

And as the eclipse above them dissipated, he cried.

He cried in a way gods are not meant to cry. An undignified, loud sobbing that racked his whole form. He cradled you like he could bring you back if he just held tight enough. You were so cold.

How could someone who'd brought him so much warmth be so cold?

The battle was over.

Eclipse had managed to save the world.

But you were no longer in it.

[lupuslxna]

Lavi was known to engage in battle with a grin in his face. Be it akuma or human beings, a taunting smirk would tug on his lips. With the Noah, however, that faded into a blank mask often shattered to a deep snarl underneath. Too many crimes against innocents. Against comrades. Against his own self. It was that mask that he now looked through, at Scott. Green eyes cold like grass on a icy dawn fixated upon the Alpha. Both a warning, and an advice. " I'll ask, then. How long d'you think y' can keep yer 'friend' safe from me." That hunter would have to fight someone else from her kind this time around. See how she likes to bleed.

⊰ ☾ ⊱~; The bitter taste of metal was coating the back of his throat, the hole which was still leaving a little gap open from when Allison's arrow pierced the tender flesh, refused to heal up as any other wound he had received over the years. And not to brag about that, the lycan had his fair share of near-death experiences that would have left a normal person in pieces by now. This tho, this felt as if a foreign force was keeping the void open, eating away every cell which tried to heal up and become whole again. Derek's mind was running all over the place as he tried to calm his body down, the rush of adrenalin still leaving traces behind that made his muscles twitch. With his eyes closed, he didn't need to see the redhead's expression to know this, the other male started to slowly slip away, leaving behind only a coldness so biting that when the wolf reached out to take hold of his friend...it felt as if fire gazed his skin for a little second. This physical pain was nothing compared to the fear and agony that he knew he would feel if Lavi slipped away in ways that no amount of strength and arms he would possess, could bring him back. Finally, tho, his own, shaky fingers, were able to hook themselves in the redhead's sleeve, then with a gentle tug on it Derek was able to feel the tender, icy skin. Eyes slowly opening he tried to swallow, but it didn't help as just more crimson oozed out of his body, leaving a horrid sketch of agony behind as more life was drained outta him. "Mo......sh..." Mountain ash, that is what prevented him from getting better. The undead hunter must have coated her weapon in it, knowing very well that it would prove fatal for a supernatural being; keeping the will of the one who wielded it. One was for sure, Allison still wanted him dead, their families spilled so much of each other's blood...and it was never enough. It was so tiring, this endless cycle of hatred and rage which flew through their veins like poison, driving them mad, driving anyone mad. Trying, he really did try, to offer his old companion a wide smile; failed. Lips quivered as if he were a toddler about to start to cry, not that this was his intention."'s fine...."

"...fin'.." He always was.

[timeguardians]

" no, don't move. you need to stay still. " (Bri)

Instantly, the air grows heady with the stench of SMOKE. A choking scent so pungent, her eyes can not help but scorch and water. A staggering breath rattles through surprised lungs. The more she attempts to drag breath in, the more pain surges through her bones. Despite herself, she coughs, dribbling up crimson that is warm and wet; a result of her cracked ribs. (when she jumped on the explosive)

Wayne shakily scrambles to rise back to her feet. A move that is met with firm resistance. Resistance that comes in the form of a sturdy porcelain hand upon her black clad chest.

Her yes flash upwards. Her first instinct is to FIGHT it, to push away the hand that keeps her firmly plastered to the ground. But it's him, it's her Logan. She can just make out the shadows of his face among the blur between her batting eyelashes. Instead of continuing to push him away, her own black-gloved fingers coil about his arm.

Ears scorch with a gnawing tinnitus. No doubt, it was a lasting effect from the loud burst that exploded before her. The piercing annoyance threatens to swallow every word Logan spoke. But she managed to make out pieces of his orders. A tiny part of her thought, he was employing his military voice on her--- but that was a thought for another time. It submerges beneath the more pressing ones.

"Y--you sh--sh--shouldn't be here." She exhales a rasp. The next sound that escapes her is strangled, a garbled unintelligible mess. Dragging in an impatient breath, "you-- you hit?" She grits out, her own chord full of panicked gravel. Then with a determined breath, Wayne tries to surge herself upright in one fluid movement. The jerk causes stars to flood across her dazed eyes and she remains downed.

WHERE'D HE GO?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She forces her water-logged gaze to scan the smoke hypervigilently.

Her languid form stretches, ignoring what she know would be a terrible assessment of her damages. "W-- where's the J---Joker?!" She manages to grit. Shivering with no little vehemence, she sputters. "I-- I have to-- to stop him---- NOW." Batwoman KNOWS has NO TIME for admonishment, nor any to rest.

[liecoris]

Content Warning : Body Horror and non descriptive Sexual Assault in this drabble about one of Mukuro’s frequent nightmares

Mukuro found herself sitting on her knees when she woke up, opening her eyes, she was immediately blinded by how bright the room she was in was。 Flinching and shutting her eyes almost immediately, Mukuro also began to realize that she was in fact, not wearing really anything, her long hair laid on her body, acting as if a natural censor。 When her eyes opened again, there was a large sunflower in a large black planter etched with a rose gold dragon on the planter’s surface sitting in front of her。 

Placing a hand on the floor in front of her, Mukuro began to reach out her other hand towards the flower, wanting to feel if the flower in front of her was real or if it would somehow vanish before her。 The flower seemed close enough that she could just reach out and touch it instead of getting up from her seated position and moving closer to the sunflower。

But just as her fingertips were about to graze one of the petals, there was a force pulling her back。 Not by shoulders like one would think but by her hair, it felt as though someone had taken a fistful of hair by her scalp and was harshly holding her back, and Mukuro being as stubborn as she was, was fighting through the pain to still touch the flower。

Just as soon as Mukuro’s fingers were about to touch one of the petals again, the whole plant shot backwards and the grip that was on Mukuro’s hair vanished, causing her body to fall forward。 When she was about to assume that whatever force held her hair let go, Mukuro saw a few small pieces of her hair floating in front of her, it was then she felt the cold air of the room hit her back and she didn’t even have to reach back to know her hair had been chopped off。

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, from her hair being chopped off to her falling forward。 Closing her eyes Mukuro waited to feel the impact of her chest hitting the floor, and when the impact came faster than expected, Mukuro opened her eyes and instead of finding herself face-first on the floor, she was bent over a table and her back felt like it was burning。

Knowing full well what was happening, tears began to form and slowly pour from her eyes, squirming under the pain, the burn felt like it was fresh, like the hot debris from her home landed on her。 Clutching her fist, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of the table, her knuckles turning as white as her surroundings。 Finding herself unable to move, all Mukuro could really do is wait out the pain。

Her eyes would slowly open again and through the blurriness of her tears, she saw the sunflower from before and tried to reach out again。 But just as she was beginning to move, this time what was preventing her from moving was a hand。 A hand that she knew too well。 Frozen with fear, she felt something cold and metallic pressing against her right shoulder and a familiar pain beginning to spread through her as the assault this man did to her when she was younger was happening again。

Closing her eyes, again, she waited out the pain, that’s all she really could do, with a gun pressed against her, and otherwise she felt immobile, there wasn’t much she could do. And she hated it. More fresh tears began to spill from her and her shoulders shook with silent sobs which seemed to anger the man behind her because in a flash the trigger was pulled and another familiar pain bloomed through Mukuro’s body。 A fresh crimson now began to pool on the table Mukuro was pressed against。 

   Mukuro’s voice was failing her, as much as Mukuro wanted to cry out and scream to stop, any sort of volume from her came out mute and as another round of sobs began to run through her body, the man as well as the table vanished, causing Mukuro to slump on the floor, the blood that had pooled on the table now splashed in front of Mukuro。

Using her uninjured arm, Mukuro slowly sat up and wasn’t surprised when she felt another familiar pain on her hips along with her lower back。 She didn’t have to look to see that there were now small burns on her hips from a cigar and now a brand on her back。 There was a theme happening here and Mukuro was picking up on it。 In this twisted room, she was re-experiencing every injury she had gotten during her life。 Did this mean she was dead, and this was her purgatory？ God, she hoped so。 But she seriously doubted that was the case here。

Cuts slowly began to open up on her arms, and she recognized each and every one of them. Seemingly fresh out of tears, Mukuro just sat there and took what was happening to her。 She only had so many wounds, so she figured it was in her best interest to just wait it out。 Sitting limply on the floor, Mukuro winced again as pain spread on her lower back again, recognizing this as when she covered up the brand she had received from Jin。

A few moments pass before another pain erupts through her body, this time from her chest, hot tears flowing once again from her eyes as the piercings that where once nice and secure on her chest were roughly pulled out。 Drops of blood dripped down to join the pool that began to form underneath Mukuro, normally having blood decorate her body would be something Mukuro found hot but after revisiting all her past wounds in such a short succession, really drove home just how ugly she really felt about herself。 Having her hair taken away from her to cover the large scars that covered her back made her feel the most vulnerable she’s really ever felt。

What seemed like hours passed as Mukuro sat, her body seemingly numb to the pain at this point as she just sat staring ahead, but not really looking at anything。 So she didn’t know how long the plant was sitting there but the flower from before was again in front of her but this time was easily within reach now。 Mukuro stared at this flower, debating on reaching out towards the petals again, now knowing what this flower was symbolizing。

What felt like more hours passed as she stared at the flower, waiting for something to happen, Mukuro slowly lifted one of her heavily bloodied arms and just as her fingers finally brushed one of the petals。 A few gunshots rang out and the flower wilted unnaturally as blood began to ooze from various holes that appeared with the gunshot noises。

Just as a scream was about to rip from her throat, Mukuro woke up with a jolt。 A cold sweat covered her body as she sat up from her sofa, frantically looking around and slowly calming down as the scenery was familiar to her。 She hated that nightmare so very much, she hated sleeping。 Drawing her knees to her chest, Mukuro buried her face and cried。

[pazodetrasalba]

Boundaries

Dear Caroline:

You have to forgive the nerdy philologist in me, but 'skirt' is such a lovable word, and with such a peculiar etymology. You probably know about it, but just in case: it actually shares the exact same root as 'shirt' (both from Proto-Germanic *skurtjon "a short garment"), and it is one of those medieval borrowings English took from a close relative, Old Norse. During the High Middle Ages, the Vikings directly controlled most of modern England and put it under their rule(s) - the Danelaw-, and one of their legacies was the reintroduction of Germanic words that in their language had retained the original <sk> consonant cluster, which in Old English had mutated into <sh>, in this way giving rise to pair, like ship/skipper, dish/disk, shabby/scab, shatter/scatter, shoot/scoot, -esque/-ish, shell/skull or shrub/scrub.

Interesting as well are the figurative meanings that 'skirt' has acquired, generally connotative of “border, rim, boundary or outlying part” of anything, as witnessed by nouns like 'outskirts' or the verb 'to skirt'.

But anyway, and moving on to the substance of your post, I have to say that I am a real sucker for overt and traditional symbols of femininity, of which long skirts and long, flowing hair are probably the ones at the top. I think few other elements of apparel in a woman can have such a sweet, warm and fuzzy effect on my emotions, as well as contribute in me to a more refined and charming form of attraction than mere carnal lust and overt sexualization can ever hope to achieve. And the long skirt shines, of course, against a backdrop of elegant, feminine and discreet companion pieces.

Being a person who usually doesn't give any thought at all to fashion and clothing, it surprises me how much I like those posts in which you talk about it -the Halloween colors piece comes to mind-, but then again I visualize those pieces of attire as bedecking you, and just as a gold band makes the diamond shine all the more, so it is the case here. There is a lovely sonnet of Luis de Góngora, my favorite Spanish poet, about a lady whose finger was pricked by a ring. It loses like 90% of its appeal in the translation, but I think enough remains gleaming through for it to be worth quoting.

Quote:

A prison of nacre, for a diamond

(The bright rival of my constancy)

Was wrought and, ingeniously,

Was itself imprisoned here in gold.

Chloris, who will not, with grace,

Let even the precious metal press

Her finger for a day, impatiently

Released it from its golden chain.

But oh, since that insidious gilt sliver

Drank sacred blood, sacrilegiously,

From the crystal of her lovely hand,

Crimson dye shows less on Indian

Ivory; and with envy, on the snow,

Dawn despoils carnations in vain.

Luis de Góngora