#TW: graphic violence

[pearl-likes-hunting]

There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with me.

You killed your brothers. You’re a horrible sister. You can’t even protect them.

No they’re alive they’re alive they’re alive.

Hades is merciful if I give him more souls he’ll give them back. I’m a good sister I swear.

[slimeranch7]

Would you mind a Countess Chelsea request?! I don’t see a lot of any PTN fics so I’m kinda desperate :~: the sky is ur limit with this one if you do do it!

Fun fact: the name of this draft is called "Chelsea req attempt 6"

ao3 link

Content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and murder

-----

The gentle beat of a heart that isn't yours pounds in your ears like a heavy, persistent drum.

Lub dub… Lub… Dub…

It doesn't feel real. The guttural imagery forever burned through your rose tinted glasses, impossible to scrub the scar off your mind. You could never forget the way poor Sitri writhed until bright red blood stopped spurting from the gaping hole of her chest. She goes limp without a sound.

Your throat was raw from screaming and begging. Eyes burning, yet still endlessly welling with tears. Your grip on the hem of father's coat loosened, leaving behind deep, ugly wrinkles in its wake.  

Father was never this cruel. Father was strict, yes. He demanded only the best from his only daughter, he expected polish and grace. He worked Chelsea to the bone, but provided more than enough for her and Sitri to live comfortably as your family's lapidarist. 

Father was stern and rough, but he never… He would never…

Sinew and blood drips from his hand. Your own pulse drowns all else out of reality, and leaves the world to spin on an uneven axis. A heap of pink before the dark shadow of your father, separated by a deepening pool of sickly red. 

You trip over your own two feet to get to Chelsea, landing painfully on your knees, but the imminent bruising was the least of your concerns. Your father, terrible, cruel father, calls your name, but it echoes like a distant howl lost in a vast garden of fury. 

Arms wrapped delicately around her head, pressing her flush against your chest to let her know you're here through the frenzied rhythm of your heart. Delicate, manicured fingers gently cards through long locks of pink. You're here. You're still here even if Sitri isn't. 

A shadow casts over your trembling figures, accompanied by the familiar clicks of expensive heels. 

"Stay the fuck away from my daughter…!" A monster rages behind you. 

Even as he pulls you by the collar, you persist and instinctively drag yourself against his force, fear and defiance taking the helm of your body and mind. Bloody, warm knuckles brush against your neck and sullying your clothes. It sends sickening shivers down your spine.

But he doesn't get far. 

Chelsea lurches forward, reaching behind you and grabbing your father by the wrist. In an instant, he violently recoils, a blood curdling cry cut short by a string of the most vulgar curses you've ever heard him utter. 

Glass shatters behind you, pelting against marble tiles. Your father's anguished howls don't stop even as the chamber empties of all other sounds. 

His entire forearm is taken off- torn sleeve soaked darkly with his own blood, and you could almost see the disturbing white of his bone underneath fibrous, gory flesh. Blood spurts from broken vessels in increments, pooling over Sitri's corpse and soaking her already dirtied fur. 

Pieces of ruby-colored gems caked his gaping wound. 

You dared to sneak a peak at Chelsea, whose eyes were wide as yours. 

Protectively, she pushes you behind her, and lunges towards your father, now more monster than man. 

His nose, brows and mouth contorts into a wicked, vile snarl, high on adrenaline, and mindless enough to attempt another clumsy swipe at the younger girl.

She dodges with ease, letting him stumble from his own momentum, before twisting his other free wrist, and oh, you could see it- the way his skin breaks, splits, red, translucent stones slipping from between tight strings of muscle, breaking off bit by bit and scattering like bugs before your feet and rolling to a stop.

He pitifully collapses, face wet with tears and drool and snot. There's a sheen layer of sweat caking his head and neck, from exertion and agony, now that both his arms were turned into pellets of gemstones scattered across the chamber. 

You couldn't quite make out his expression, though you're positive it would have looked nothing like the impassive, self-assured father you once had. Chelsea's figure hovers over you, intentionally blocking him from your view. 

You can do nothing but stare up, frightful and wavering, eyes drifting over to her fingers. 

Chelsea cups your face with her bloody sleeve, frown still apparent, but her eyes hold no ill intent. Rather, it's sad, wet with tears. Having seen too much. Lost too much. Sitri is- was family to her. 

Shaky hands grips her lapel as she leans down to you on one knee. You tremble, shaken, mind still lagging minutes behind trying to process your trauma, but your gut doesn't scream danger. It never did in the presence of your Chelsea, after all.

She slowly lifts a finger to trace your hair, experimentally. It doesn't crystalize, or split, or shatter like your father's arms did, so she moves down to your cheeks, tracing a stray tear. You can feel the way it shrivels into itself, hardening and growing heavy, before it falls by itself beneath your collar, sitting heavy and uncomfortable under your shirt, but still warm. 

"You misunderstand," She suddenly says, glassy eyes still trained on yours, but she isn't addressing you. "I was only asking for your blessing, not your permission."

Her thumb hovers over your eyes, urging you to close them. Hot lips pressed against yours. Her hair tickles your jaw as she hovers above you, tilting your face to meet hers. You feel her hands groping your thighs softly. The kiss lasts for eternity, drawing your breath, like a feverish, lascivious show intended for the wrong audience…

And suddenly she withdraws as fast as she closes in, air turning frigid without her overwhelming presence. You resist the urge to peak. 

There were no final words, no parting jabs. Just a strangled gasp that puts a stop to the incessant, pained wheezing. Then it rained stones. Priceless, valuable gemstones, clacking obnoxiously and echoing across the chamber. 

When she prompted you gently, you opened your eyes in search of your lover, you were instead met with a beast, dark and muted pink. Subdued and indistinct. A shadow cast over her face, hiding the dangerous mania residing behind her gaze. 

Smiling, she leans down, content, pressing herself against your chest, lulled by the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat. Warmth shares itself between your bodies. Those useless gemstones could never compare. You're still here. You're still here, even if no one else is. 

[pepplemint]

oh ok well at least that means u wont say “i will k*ll anyone who ships *insert problematic ships in trgun*” and mean it lol

A few days ago I opened twitter and the first thing I saw, top of the page, was cctv footage of a lesbian getting stabbed to death in the middle of a mall as her girlfriend tried her best to drag her out of harms way, her head all but decapitated to in the end from the amount and viciousness of stabs she received. Her girlfriend was also murdered after because she tried to help, the post told. The killer didn't know them, he just saw them in the store and the woman was non-gender conforming. This murder happened this year, less than a week ago.

Just wanna put in perspective how freaking insignificant I find the supposed problematicness of fiction that doesn't reach further than fandom. I would never say something like that, even if your ship made me ill to even imagine. I would draw you a hundred problematic ship drawings if it meant the world felt a little safer and more peaceful to queer people for the moment.

[youmixxx]

This is a small contribution to @kaitopitoo and @othervio ‘s FS vampire AU! The story immediately starts after the plot of Kaito’s comic. I’ve been greatly inspired by this AU and just needed to write a little something. Kaito has also created a few drawings related to this fic, and it is just such a great honor! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I hope you guys enjoy it as well!  Read the fic on Ao3 or underneath the marker! Thank you so much to the AU creators for allowing me to participate! :)

“Go find Green and Vio. I’ll stay with him.”

“Huh–” It didn’t occur to Blue right away that what Red demanded of him was probably close to a death wish, but when it did, it struck Blue like lightning. Leaving Red alone with a vampire?! Sure, they were all capable fighters in their own right. Still, Vio, as well as Green, were living proof that alone by themselves, they were nothing but weak meat sacks against a starving vampire. They couldn’t be trusted. It was a call for disaster. “H-Hey! Are you out of your goddamn mind?! I’m not just leaving you alone with him! Mind you, he was feasting on a dead animal! What do you think he will do to you once you’re alone with him? You remember what he did to Green and Vio, right?!”

Red turned towards him with a gentle, comforting smile, unfazed by his ranting. “Sure, I remember all that. But… What if what Vio said was true?” he offered softly, lowering his rod that was loosely resting in his hand. “I mean, just look at him! If he really posed a danger to us, why would he rather eat from an animal’s corpse rather than go on a hunt in the nearby villages?”

“Because he knows what awaits him when he gets caught! He’ll get killed. That’s why! That doesn’t stop him from jumping at the next closest opportunity when he gets it.”

“Still… Vio trusts him.” Red’s eyes lowered to where Shadow was still cowering on the floor, hunched over, hand pressed to his face in a vain attempt to stop his supposed meal from leaving his body, shaking and convulsing in a way that made Blue’s own guts constrict from nausea. “And we trust Vio, so… why can’t you trust him?” 

Blue released a disdainful grunt in response, turning away from the scene and vigorously refusing to have his better half scratched by this pitiful sight, his consciousness stirred. As pathetic as this whole situation was, he couldn’t let it influence him. What if this was a ploy? What if he lured them into believing he was defenseless and entirely at their mercy? Vampires couldn’t be trusted. They were the enemy, vicious, disgusting things that could mess with their minds, break bodies and alter their perception in order to suck the life out of them like humongous ticks. They were nothing more than evil reshaped in its most devious form, a stain upon this holy land that belonged to their grace Zelda. That was why they became hunters and devoted their whole life to–erasing these pests from the earth’s surface. It was their duty, their calling. And suddenly, everything they had believed until this point was supposed to be what? Nothing but a lie?

“Have you forgotten about the oath we swore?” Blue hissed back, facing Red again, the grip on his sword so tight it made the leather of his handle churn angrily from the abuse. “<i>We</i> are hunters, Red. It is <i>our</i> job to kill the likes like him. We should take and kill him as we speak! And you want to reason with me about trust?!”

“Blue…” 

“Vio threw away our trust when he decided to return to this pest! He-!”

“But what if he is right?! What if they aren’t what we think they are? What do we really know about them apart from what Zelda told us?” Red countered sharply, his eyes fierce with determination. “Oath or not, you can’t deny that this whole thing is not adding up anymore! If Shadow is the killer we take him for, why is Vio still alive? Why is Green still alive? Why is he drinking the blood of a decaying animal? Don’t you at least think it’s strange that none of our expectations about vampires have been met yet?” 

Blue grit his teeth, shaking his head furiously in denial. “Even so, Zelda’s words stand above everything-!”

“Forget about Zelda’s words and look for yourself!” Red stepped aside, gesturing at the pitiful pile of misery still moaning and wheezing in agony. “Does this look like a dangerous killer to you?!” 

This time, Blue couldn’t find it within himself to argue, for one, because he knew he was in the wrong to agree and, maybe, just maybe, a part of him wanted to doubt, wanted to believe what Vio said to be true. But he couldn’t. It spoke against his principles, against every fiber of his being that had spent sweat, blood, and tears into becoming a hunter, becoming Zelda’s extension to execute her will. Allowing himself to doubt was a betrayal beyond fixing, a stab in the back to his queen, comrades, and himself. It just couldn’t be… if only he had enough evidence, enough proof to justify this. 

Evidence. Proof. Vio’s word couldn’t be trusted, not with him being the only person around Shadow and staying alive. He could be brainwashed, manipulated, or something along those lines. However, one judgment he could trust–his own. So if he stayed behind and remained alive as well… perhaps that could sway his opinion. 

“Fine then,” Blue sighed, his features softening while remaining sharp and focused. “You go find the others. I’ll stay here.” The smaller man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“B-But-”

“I’ll see for myself how harmless he really is…and how much the bookworm’s judgment is worth. And, if things go south after all, I can buy us more time than you can. We both know I’m stronger. Now go.” Red seemed like he wanted to object, his mouth opening, the look in his eyes indecisive. But despite all this, he remained quiet, closed his mouth again, and gave Blue a meaningful nod before quickly skipping into a sprint back to town. Blue’s attentive gaze followed him until he disappeared behind the trees and shrubs, and the sound of steps lost itself in the distance. Only the airy wheezes of the vampire before him remained, him still dealing with the aftermath the foul drink had caused, but now calm enough to grace him with a spiteful stare from below under painfully slow and controlled breaths. 

“You should have followed your friend….” Shadow groaned, his hand reaching up to wipe off the remains running down his chin. 

Blue’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat, scum?!”

“No.” Blue would have taken it as a lie if it hadn’t sounded so annoyed and strangely nonchalant. “... you’re just wasting your time.”

“I wonder if you’ll say the same once we have you tied to the stake and burnt just like the rest of your cursed kin.”

The corners of Shadow’s mouth moved up to a crooked smile, but it appeared sadder than… amused. “I can’t say it enough… but killing me is pointless.” 

“Is that what you told Vio as well?” Blue scoffed. “I’d be shocked if this was all the convincing he needed to believe you. And here I thought he was the smart one.”

“He <i>is</i> the smart one,” Shadow insisted, pushing himself up slowly. Blue pulled the tip of his sword forward, ready to strike at any given time should he decide to attack. He intently watched his every move, every little twitch of a muscle. However, despite his expectation, he remained peaceful, not moving rapidly. “He immediately understood that slaughtering my people served nothing other than that supposed savior king’s wicked fantasy. And that bitch of a queen on the throne right now is no better. She is but the mere image of her father’s insanity.”

“How-!” Of course. Tarnishing the mighty king’s and Zelda’s name suited a vampire just right. Blue’s anger flared with newfound fuel, and he thrust the sword forward as a warning. “Don’t you even dare say her grace’s name!” Completely unfazed, Shadow moved the blade aside with a swift brush of his hand, his expression remaining unnervingly neutral, pushing Blue further into defensiveness, expecting something underhanded to happen any second now. Vampires were known to be unpredictable. But no worries. If he wound up dead, his friends would know what to do and take out that monster once and for all. He’d gladly take it if all it took to clear the fronts was his sacrifice. 

“Your queen means nothing to me. She is an heir to a bloody throne, nothing else. Protect her all you want, and praise her name. She will always be a murderer.” 

“She? A murderer?!” Blue spat, infuriated, his arms shaking from adrenaline. “It was you! You and your cursed kin! Don’t you think we’ve already forgotten what you did to us, all the innocent people you slaughtered like pigs!” 

Another exhausted sigh. “You mortals are so quick to forget… But I guess it’s easier to put the blame on others, isn’t it?”

“What are you saying, filth? The blame for what?!” 

“You said we murdered your people, but you completely ignore that it all started with your people, not mine,” Shadow explained. “It was you who attacked us first, not us. You wanted us gone while we were just trying to get around. It was you who invaded our land and took everything away that once belonged to us. That doesn’t sound very fair, does it?”

“That’s-” Blue swallowed heavily, unable to wrap his head around what the vampire was trying to convey. Was it supposed to be their fault? Nonsense! Lies. Just more lies. He wasn’t going to fall for it. He wouldn’t be as naive as Vio! “-That’s a fucking lie! We never-!”

“That’s what your precious Zelda wants you to believe–that it’s all lies. Do you know what else she wants you to believe? That she has a claim to this land, that it’s hers. It had never been her land. It’s the land of my people, the land your kin invaded under the savior king. But it was never an invasion, right? It was but an attempt to save everyone, even though there was nothing to save, to begin with. But it sounds better to suggest your ancestors saved everyone from the evil vampires instead of saying that you murdered vampires for the sake of murdering them.”

“Shut up-!”

“Because that’s what you did, what your precious king wanted. He wanted us all dead-”

“Shut up—!” 

“And now that bitch of a queen is continuing on her legacy of killing and more killing and justifying it as saving-”

“SHUT UP—!” Unable to contain his anger any longer, Blue drew his sword up before bringing it back down with a powerful slash. His blade met little to no resistance as the body in front of him seemed to tear apart into black shreds, recollecting and reassembling tiny, leathery wings and dashing past his face in a rush of cold wind and ear-piercing shrieks. He spun quickly, catching Shadow staring back at him from arm’s length, wholly unharmed and hardly impressed. 

“Don’t,” the vampire warned, his tone flat. “I told you it’s pointless to fight me.”

“As if I’m going to listen to a pest like you!” Blue lashed out once more with a grunt, but again the vampire dispersed into the air and swished past him, his blade singing menacingly as it connected with the ground.

<i>Curse this—!</i> 

Tempting his luck, Blue blindly threw the sword around himself in a circle, letting the weight of the steel carry his body as he smoothly turned with the move. Still, the other saw it coming immediately and dodged again, reappearing a few steps away in his field of vision. Blue gritted his teeth in frustration as he regained his balance, pulling the sword in front of his body like a shield. “You–! Stop messing around! Fight me honorably, coward!” 

“Honorably?” Shadow mocked, his fangs flashing against the stark light of the moon under his mildly amused grin. “In which way is it honorable to die for a genocidal maniac and his offspring?” Blue’s blood roared with fury, his arms shaking violently from how tightly he was clutching his weapon, teeth bared, his jaw tense. This disgusting low-life just couldn’t stop. To hell with waiting. He would no longer listen to this preposterousness. He would finish this abomination here and now. No one called his queen and the mighty king names like that! 

“That’s it–!” Completely blinded by rage and stripped of all caution, Blue charged forward, tempting his fate and slashing at the vampire in a storm of dancing silver. Each move was controlled and focused, his feet like ankers against the ground while his upper half floated from stance to stance. He had been training for this day since he was little, spent sleepless nights perfecting each little move, each twitch of a muscle. It would all come to use now, and he would give it his all. Serve his queen. Serve this land and its people. All that devotion he had put into his body to fulfill his calling. Everything, he would do everything to meet his purpose, that which he had sworn himself into–even if it cost him his life. 

But it only did so little when his opponent ran past his grasp like ink dripping through his fingers like he was trying to cut down a wafty curtain dancing in the wind. Shadow shifted into his semi-present state, where he could evade the blade’s sharp edge, but Blue found confidence in the knowledge that it couldn’t go on like this forever. At some point, the vampire had to grow tired, weakened, and thirsty from the start, but so could he. The question was, who would give in first?

“Quit– it–!” Blue hissed through clenched teeth, his head spinning as he tried to focus on the black shreds before him, not stopping his furious assault. “You can’t dodge forever! Might as well give up now!” In response, the shreds collected to bats again and wildly began to circle around Blue’s head, tiny claws picking at his hair, tearing his collar and scarf, and obscuring his vision. “<i>Hngh–!</i> Damn it!” It did what it was supposed to do. Blue fell out of rhythm to instead wave and slap at the tiny creatures distracting him. He stumbled away in a rush. Shadow used the opportunity to gain distance and reappear again, his expression mere annoyance rather than the possibility of fear. 

“Stop this nonsense….” Shadow groaned, struggling to stand upright, a little slouch to his stance. “You’ll achieve nothing out of this.”

“Why stop?” Blue panted heavily, smoothly flinging his sword through his hand as he pointedly stepped forth once more. “I’m only getting started.”

Shadow’s gaze darkened. “Believe me, you don’t want me to hurt you. So don’t make me.”

“I’m not scared of you.” Taking a deep breath, Blue lifted his blade purposefully, eyes sharp. “You can threaten me all you want. I’m not running away. You’ve caused far too much trouble already, hurt people, hurt my friends, brainwashed Vio into believing your vicious lies, and stained my queen’s name! I have to put an end to this. I’m not leaving until I put you out of your miserable existence!” 

Blue’s arms extended out wide as he built up momentum for another strike as he dashed forward, mouth torn open to release the roar humming against the back of his throat. He brought the sword down fast, and, this time, Shadow did not budge, almost as if accepting his fate. That was it! He had him! <i>He had him!</i> However, before the steel could connect, there was a flash of black, and Blue felt the hilt of his sword being torn out of his grasp, followed by a sharp sting running along his upper right arm. 

“<i>Ack–!<i>” The force with which his sword had been sent flying caused his body to helplessly tilt to the side. He managed to brace himself, skipping to stop, and watched bitterly as his sword landed a good few feet away from him, throwing up dust and dirt as it landed with a shattering sound. <i>For fuck’s sake-!</i>. His left hand shot up as the slight sting turned into a full-fleshed burn, feeling the rough edges of his torn shirt and something warm and moist collecting in his palm. A small inconvenience. Blue had had a couple of injuries before. That little cut wouldn’t hinder him much. However, it didn’t quite occur to Blue just yet that this small inconvenience, in addition to him being without any protection, had just so created a mixture of disaster. The reality of it only struck him when he looked back at Shadow, his pupils dilated, any kind of expression melting from his features as something primal seemed to take hold of him. His hollow gaze fixated on Blue, pinning him down securely like an archer with his target, the blue of his iris slowly fading to a vibrant ruby red. No thoughts laid behind those eyes, only an intense hunger that needed to be quenched and a maliciousness that promised an agonizing death. 

The blood… he could smell it. 

“... I beg you….” Shadow’s voice was distant, a desperate call from a faraway place. “Run….” 

Blue hadn’t been scared before, but seeing the other detach himself like this, letting his instincts take over, he couldn’t help but let his ego fall and feel the dread grow in his chest. This wasn’t just fun and games anymore. This was serious. 

“... leave….”

The hand around his arm clutched the wound tighter despite the pain, almost as if he was hoping it would keep the smell away, but he knew better than to believe that. Nothing could hide the scent of a vampire’s most precious fluid, especially not a starving one. 

“... just… leave, please…!” Blue quickly searched for his sword in the distance, finding it glistening in the moonshine, too far away for his liking but still close enough if he just made it there fast enough. The rigid grip of fear let loose enough for him to slowly move backward, mentally hoping that Shadow would keep himself together until he made it there. Nothing rash now. Otherwise, this would end quickly and… very messily. 

“Blood….” Blue swallowed heavily, nervously glancing between the vampire slowly unraveling before his eyes and the sword that, with a lot of luck, might save him. He could run, but to what avail? There was no running away from a vampire. He would get to him faster than he could scream for help. “Blood… I– need blood–!” 

<i>Shit… shit!</i> Only a little further. He almost had it! 

“... I need it…. I need it! I need it– NOW!” 

There was no time. Blue took a leap for it and dashed. It was either waiting for demise or taking the risk of turning his back and maybe saving his sorry ass. He couldn’t count on the others. Knowing his luck, they weren’t even close. It began as a one-on-one, and it would end as such–and he was on the short end of it. How short, he would witness right away because he didn’t get far before two arms pulled him right back, clinging to his body strong and unyielding like iron chains, hands clawing at his chest, daring him to try and resist. His collar was yanked off forcefully, cotton ripping, exposing his neck to the cold air. 

But the frigid touch of nature wouldn’t last long. What first felt like a nasty prick instantly turned to an overwhelming pain that had every single fiber of his body vibrate in resonance as the vampire pierced through his skin, sinking his fangs mercilessly into his neck. Venom quickly burned through his veins, raw and hot, a scream erupting from his lungs as it took hold of him, forcing him into submission and stunning him momentarily. But, for the smallest of frames, his self-preservation began to take over, and Blue struggled against his captor, leeching off of him with fierce determination. 

“Let go–!” Blue brought out breathlessly, pushing against the arms around him, jerking and twisting, tilting his head back and forth, anything to free himself. But Shadow stayed persistent, too entranced by his meal and having every means to continue feasting. 

“Re-lease— me!” 

Then, Blue managed to reach around himself and get his hand on Shadow’s face. Without thinking, he got a fist full of Shadow’s hair and yanked as hard as possible. It showed effect as Shadow tore his mouth open in a howl of pain, and Blue used the disturbance to shove him off for good. Blue stumbled forward, nearly kissing the floor without the other’s strong hold, and ran for his sword. He picked it up with shaky hands, righting himself and ignoring the pulsing sensation along his side and the hot stream of blood running over his neck and shoulder. His stance was wobbly, unsteady, his legs heavy like cement, the rush of adrenaline making his head spin. The image of Shadow, standing there with this dumbfounded, almost shocked expression on his face, tilted dangerously from side to side. For a second, he was convinced he would charge at him again like before, but instead, he just stayed put, eyes strangely clear, his mania barely present any longer. Had he drunk enough to be sane again? Or had the sudden disturbance beaten it back into him? Whatever it was, it gave Blue enough time to steady himself–and make one last attempt. 

This wasn’t over yet. 

“... you… filthy pest–!” 

His sword weighed a ton as Blue strenuously lifted it over his head for a swing. One step, barely a second step, and suddenly, his body turned numb, his legs giving in, his sword leaving his loose grip, and he tilted forward, completely at the mercy of earth’s unyielding gravity. The ground wouldn’t quite embrace him yet as he felt a strong pull, something, whatever it was, holding him up in the air, causing his useless meat shell to hover. His vision swam from dizziness, white and black blotches dancing before his eyes. If it hadn’t been for his mind still rioting from panic and his sheer will to survive, he would have long surrendered to whatever was sucking the energy from his bones. But he was still there, he was scrambling, kicking… maybe. He wasn’t sure if he was still resisting. He had to fight somehow. He couldn’t die like this. He just couldn’t die like this! So undignified, so exposed, so shamefully. This couldn’t be the end yet…

<i>I can’t… I can’t die… Leave me! Leave me be–!</i>

“You won’t die….” Blue heard a strange echo through his detaching mind. “Please… stop resisting. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to. Please stop… I- I’m just so thirsty.” 

Blue’s vision cleared a little, and he realized he was facing the sky, half laying half leaning against something or someone, gentle hands holding him, cold hands, but so incredibly gentle, on his arm, as they brushed back his hair. 

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Just… don’t resist me.” 

The anxious voice in his chest told Blue not to listen, but a part of him wanted to believe that strange, comforting echo. Don’t resist… What was he actually resisting? His head felt pleasantly empty. What was there to resist?

“... please forgive me.” 

Through the numbness, Blue felt his body twitch violently, a familiar sensation running through him, one that should have alerted him right away. Still, he couldn’t find it within himself anymore to care, not with how fast his head and body seemed to shut down. The only things that remained were a foreign cold, a burn against his neck, and the mesmerizing sight of the moon against the blackened sky. 

…

Some time might have passed. Blue remembered someone calling his name, but whatever followed ran through his head like water through a sieve. 

-

“... Hey.” 

The swishing of the curtain surrounding his bed had already become too familiar, a sound that–despite being quiet–always managed to unpleasantly pull him out of his semi-delirious state. Reality and sleep still seemed to fade into one another. It was hard to tell whether he was truly awake, grasping what was happening around him, or simply swimming in yet another vivid fever dream immediately forgotten as soon as this unfamiliar soreness crept back into his sense of self. He became awfully aware of the dull ache flaring along the curve of his neck and felt himself groan internally from resignation. 

He felt it now, quite prominently so. Therefore, the small ball of light slowly closing in from the foot of his bed had to be real, and so was Vio’s calm form taking shape behind the candle’s soft glow. Vio, huh? Maybe he was dreaming after all. Whenever would Vio come to visit him? 

“How are you feeling?” Blue idly watched through half-lidded eyes as Vio gently placed the candle on his nightstand before slowly sinking down on an empty spot on the bed, the mattress shifting ever so slightly under his weight, sending waves of strain through his entire form despite all the caution. His gaze was mild, analyzing, and also sort of expectant in a way. It took Blue a moment to realize that what Vio had said to him had most certainly been a question, one he would probably expect an answer to. He ended up juggling it through his head repeatedly to make some sense of it. 

“... how do you think I’m feeling?” His voice was rough, throat still sore from screaming, most likely, and lack of moisture, but the message came across, forcing a light chuckle from the other. 

“Can’t be too terrible if you manage to be sassy about it. Though, I have a suspicion.” A light way to say that he had a decent idea of how he was feeling, having been there before, if not multiple times by now. Blue could only wonder why one would volunteer to undergo this over and over again. It was far from pleasant the first time, and he greatly doubted it would get better the more frequently it happened. Frankly speaking, the circumstances hadn’t been ideal for him, and he didn’t necessarily contribute to making it easier on himself. Oh well, he was smarter now, which didn’t mean he was keening for another go. And definitely not now anyway. He was fine just being alive. “Can you sleep alright?” 

“It comes and goes, but it’s far from restful,” Blue replied honestly under a long sigh, letting his head fall to the side to watch Vio reach for his drinking cup while pulling a brown, ominous bottle from his belt. The liquid pouring into the cup looked like ink against the candlelight, viscous in its quality and harboring a strange, sweet smell. “What’s this?”

“I’m not entirely familiar with all its contents, but it’ll help you recover faster,” Vio explained casually, stopping the bottle again. “Shadow gave me something similar when he first bit me.” Reaching down, Vio looped his arm around Blue’s shoulders and carefully lifted him up into a sitting position. Even though he tried his best to cooperate, the urge to succumb to the dizziness and soreness and flop right back into the sheets was strong. So, in the end, most of the workload was on Vio despite his efforts, leaving Blue shamefully resting against his side to brace himself as he couldn’t trust his body to hold him upright, shaking like a leaf as the warm embrace of his blanket slipped off his shoulders. Vio was thankfully foreseeing enough to not let go of him and held the cup steady for him as he had barely any strength in his hand to hold it by himself, shaking with the hardship of lifting it up to his mouth. Unlike the smell suggested, the drink wasn’t particularly sweet but herby and overwhelmingly fruity and sour, like someone had boiled a whole tree of apples down and combined it into this syrupy, goopy sludge. 

He had difficulties swallowing all of it, but Vio’s persistence made him finish it despite the distaste. 

“... nasty…” Blue exhaled harshly, feeling the drink annoyingly clinging to the back of his throat. 

“I know,” Vio said with empathy in his eyes as he lowered the cup. “But it helps, I assure you.” He waited briefly, studying Blue’s posture with finical precision before slowly pulling his arm away, making sure he sat steady enough without his aid, which he did. But he was still shaking mercilessly. “Are you cold?” 

“Very….” Not needing further words, Vio reached for the blanket draped over the foot of Blue’s bed and laid it over his shoulders, wrapping him up securely to shield him from the relatively cool ambient but knowing awfully well that it probably did nothing short of an improvement. Nevertheless, Blue could still appreciate the gesture. His eyes darted back to the bottle. A strange shape, kind of dated. “Did Shadow give this to you?” 

“Uhm–” Vio needed to follow his gaze briefly to follow his trail of thought. “Oh, yes. It’s from him.”

“Did you meet him?”

“I did. Or, well, tried to would be a better way to call it.” Blue raised a brow at the remark, causing Vio to act sourly. “He– is keeping himself covered. He hardly ever leaves his place, to begin with, but he thinks it’s best if we keep our distance for now.” 

“Sounds like it bothers you….” The look in Vio’s eyes was empty as he met Blue’s eyes briefly. It lasted a couple of seconds, silently conveying the conflicting feelings of the other before he averted his gaze entirely. 

“He feels very guilty for what he did to you, Blue. It rarely happens to him that he snaps like this. At least, that’s what he said,” he sighed in defeat. “From what I’ve witnessed, he is perfectly able to control his urges… but I guess he fears he could do the same to me now, and that’s why he doesn’t want me around.” Vio seemed to notice that his tone conveyed guilt, and he chewed the inside of his cheek in an immediate response, attempting a different explanation. “Don’t get me wrong, what happened to you was unforgivable. He shouldn’t have done it-”

“But he still did.”

“But it wasn’t a conscious choice he made,” Vio quickly intervened sharply. “That’s who he is. He is a vampire. He needs blood to survive, and if he was starving the way he described it, he would have jumped anyone nearby if they had been bleeding.” Blue pondered on this statement for a bit, recalling the memories from that night, that divisiveness between that feral being inside of him that thirsted for a drink and his consciousness trying to relent. Even though he hadn’t seen it back then, he knew now that nothing could have prevented this from happening. And, to be frank, he also did nothing to detain the inevitable and instead played right into Shadow’s claws. It was meant to happen, and, all circumstances considered, he sure could call himself lucky that Shadow had been sane enough to not kill him within the skirmish. 

“... I know that,” he finally uttered, canting his head slowly. 

“What?” 

“I know he didn’t have a choice. Nobody with the benefit of choice begs you to run away from them,” Blue explained, meeting Vio’s eyes firmly. “And they certainly don’t apologize for what they did if they willingly committed themselves to it.” 

“You…” Vio appeared startled upon the reveal, mouth agape in a lack of fitting words. 

“I’m not a fool, Vio. He knew what was coming and he wanted to prevent it from happening. If he had every intention of biting me and killing me in the process, why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

“So…” Vio finally closed his mouth, his expression hardening. “You believe me when I say he is… not what we think he is?” Believe. It might be a harsh term to mention, not after everything he had believed about vampires had been shattered to pieces. But, with what he had just witnessed and what he had gone through, it was easier to accept this reality as a given. It wasn’t all black and white, vampires evil, Zelda good. He understood that now. But what was truly right? He wasn’t so sure. 

“I– honestly don’t know what to believe,” Blue responded sincerely, taking a sharp inhale, his head growing heavy on his shoulders. “I mean, Zelda must have her reasons for wanting vampires dead and gone. And she isn’t heartless either. It’s a fact that many of Shadow’s kin have killed Hylians before, ruthlessly so. Whether it was self-defense in the end or not doesn’t matter. However, it doesn’t justify punishing someone for… what they are, or does it? And, if what Shadow said carries any value, vampires and the likes like us could live together. So why all this now?” Vio nodded vigorously, seemingly sharing the same ideas as him. It wasn’t easy to see this through, but given their current situation, it wouldn’t get easier either, not when the broad mass was convinced of the bad and evil that vampires resembled. One thing Blue was sure of, however, was that Shadow wasn’t at fault. If anything, he just tried to survive… just like they did. 

“When you meet him again,” Blue added after a long pause. “Tell him he is forgiven. But- I’d rather not have him near me as of now. Not that I’ll be going anywhere any time soon… though… ugh–!” The longer he sat, the more he felt his energy leave him, his body wobbly and unsteady. His hand already shot up to hold himself up on Vio’s shoulder, the other clutching the side of his face as his head started to throb and his ears sang with white noise. Vio was alerted before he could even voice what was wrong and got his hands on him before he could tilt to the sides. 

“Shit… ‘m light-headed….”

“I know. Come on, lay down. I got you. Easy now.” The pillow swallowed his head as Vio gently lowered him back down, his limbs heavy like stone bricks against the mattress. Sinking, sinking… his body just constantly sank without stopping. Blue carefully blinked his eyes open, the haze of dizziness settling again, Vio hovering over him as he tugged the additional blanket in place, making sure to wrap him up tightly. It was probably a wasted effort because Blue was still unpleasantly cold, but just having his body tugged in and pulled together like this was quite comforting. “Get some rest. Red will look after you in the morning.” 

“I’ll try….” Blue hummed, closing his eyes as his eyelids grew heavy instantly. “Just… don’t do anything stupid.” There was a noise of confusion, and he attempted an explanation but was already drifting off into the abyss that was his wildly deteriorating sub-consciousness. A part of him was worried about Vio. Even though he could understand his motivation better now, he also understood the danger that came with it. Vio was the type to settle things by himself. And if he had learned one thing in the past, it never ended well. 

He could only hope that Vio–smart and foreseeing as often claimed–was indeed smart enough to see that this was an affair that he couldn’t fix by himself. Not this time. 

-

[kazik-bitch-ass-motherfucker]

Chapter 30!!! TW: Graphic violence!

Matthew makes a contract...

[lpvncnt]

@jezebelrisen

On a good day, Lip's body is just an instrument being played by his consciousness, constantly adjusted for performance — today is turning out to be a very good day. I do not feel human. It is all so in tune. There is a slow, quiet rattle within his chest. Or maybe it is more like the fuzzy hum of a theremin, singing its sad spacey song. For certain, it is no human heartbeat nor could it ever easily be mistaken for one. One could question that he is from Earth at all if they opened him up on a table. I feel nothing. Stalking in the twinned-shadows of this juiced, luxurious enemy-crowd, a monster lives unseen. His spine is a twisting electric-tense cable, all this nonsense violence churning through his brain and thickening up, been given the time to marinate. God's gift is, truly, the power of rumination. Reliant on what is, what he would imagine to be, a similar feeling of a semi-blind, bat-like radar, and an equally blind faith in a grim mother's fairytale, is where his intuition resides. Lip is inebriated, but not quite to his detriment tonight. I'll huff, and I'll puff... All he sees around him, is some fever-dreamy-rose-colored-powder-faced-mescaline-unreality royalty, and his sick, sick leper brain pictures their pretty frills bloodied from an unforgiving barrage of gunpowder. He'd go as far as to say that they're just as beautiful covered in blood, and worth twice as much as they were alive. He vividly imagines shooting at them all with a primitive antique musket of the 18th century. And I'll blow you the fuck down... Sending them into the essence. "I would love to know," nothing but a premonition of a person, he floats into earshot and lingers beside Dmitri, avoiding casting his eyes in the other's direction. He is feigning having had to stop behind some convenient old friends who have decided to catch up in the hallway. God loves Lip, and Lip is a sucker for that sort of love where you can confess anything, so he'll take the time to pray later about how grateful he is to be graced with good timing. "You aren't ... waiting for someone, are you? You've got this, sort of ... Pitiful, look on your face," a brief glance. It is an arrow shot so close that you cannot see it, but you can hear it. A warning, maybe? "Then again, what do I know."

[bishimightwing]

Tag dump vol.1 - issue#2 - naughty tag, TWs, OOC PSA, friend and foe muses tags, self and other blog promos

Friend/Loved ones tags get blue 💙 hearts

PLZ DON'T REBLOG

[pale-fairytales]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers), Jetfire | Skyfire & Starscream (Transformers), Optimus Prime/Starscream Characters: Megatron (Transformers), Starscream (Transformers), Jetfire | Skyfire (Transformers) Additional Tags: Past Megatron/Starscream (Transformers) - Freeform, Skyfire worries about his friend :(, Skyfire is a good friend, Domestic Violence, Physical Abuse, mentions of carrying, Abusive Relationships, Prowl and Starscream are cousins, endgame Optimus Prime/Starscream, Slow To Update, Slow Burn Series: Part 1 of This is How to Disappear Summary:

Starscream has had enough of being a ragdoll. And when Skyfire's spark is no longer pulsing, and Starscream is left with all he needs to start anew, he finds opportunity. A plan is forged from grief. A dream is realized. He knows what he wants.

Falling in love again isn't part of it, and he hates every second of it.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

How Bill was defeated and captured by Ford in my Gf AU! He basically just tricked Bill into accepting a deal that trapped him within Ford's mind and under his control :]

He may have gotten a little out of hand though....

>:)

Next post :]

[vexxerveesvoice]

@docescene Fifteen Day Word Count Challenge Day Five: Burgundy Moonlight

Aeva poked her way through the underbrush of the forest, feeling her way through the dark with her feet. The path was familiar, at least. She and Charlotte had visited this spring hundreds of times before. The cool, deep waters washed away everything that separated them, brought them close enough to brush fingertips, even if a kiss was out of the question.

This visit felt different, though. Charlotte had sent a letter – odd, especially given the stationary: rough, with scrawling, messy penmanship, without the royal seal on the envelope – requesting a meeting outside their regular schedule. Like clockwork, they met under full moons, with the hope that the extra light would illumine their way. This invitation demanded a meeting at its polar opposite: the upcoming new moon.

Aeva tripped over a tree root and cursed. Everything about this felt wrong. Her skin was already prickling, imaginary hackles raising. She needed to hurry.

Tonight, the spring was barely visible, but she could tell from a distance that the viscosity of the water was off. It sloshed slower, thicker, like congealing-

blood. The spring overflowed with more blood than should ever be drained from a person. And in the center of the spring, floating stomach-up, face twisted in horrified surprise, lay Charlotte.

Fuck. Aeva stumbled forward, tearing off her overclothes as she entered the spring, reaching out to pull Charlotte towards her.

“Charlotte, please-” Aeva whispered. “Please, please, no-”

“Funny. I thought there’d be more wailing.”

Aeva whipped her head around to squint at the ambiguous human-shaped thing leaning against a tree.

“Derek. What did you do?”

“Is it not obvious? Her royal highness here was fraternizing with a peasant. I couldn’t let such an obvious provocation go unanswered.”

“So you drag me out here to see her dead body? What, are you going to kill me, too?”

“I’d toyed with the notion, yes,” he lifted a hand to look at his wedding ring – maybe, it was hard to tell. “But I think it will be much more satisfying to watch you be unable to grieve her properly, mourning her until the day you die.”

“I hate you.”

“Good. We’re on the same page.”

Aeva turned back towards Charlotte’s body, caressed her stiff, still-cooling face, then reached towards her necklace, daintily removing the tiny, misshapen gold ring she’d gifted her. It was all that was left of Charlotte now. Aeva pocketed it.

[sticks-and-stones-are-great]

Whumpay - Day 4

Main Challenge - Mad Science - Vivisection Mini Challenge 4 - Torture - Begging To Be Killed Original Work - The Sleeping Stones

(content warning - graphic violence)

The silvery light of the glowing noose illuminated the tears running down Ylen’s cheeks from below. He rushed to grab hold of the rope of light, and reeled back with burned hands.

“Alixor.” Ylen gasped. “Alix, what are you doing?”

“You did this.” Alixor sat down heavily in the dewy grass, panting and sweating as though he had just run miles. The spell had taken almost all of his energy. “You did this.” He gasped. “When you refused to help me.”

“What?”

Ylen fell to his hands and knees. His eyes were wide and stared into Alix’s face.

Alixor looked down to the ground, averting his eyes from Ylen’s stricken look.

“You refused to help me.” He said again, much quieter than before.

“Alix, I-”

Alixor pounded his fist into the wet grass. “You won’t help me!” He screamed. Alixor looked to Ylen again. Braved the terrified eyes. “You won’t help my people!”

A beat.

Ylen’s face softens.

But instead of looking scared, Ylen just looks sad.

“I will not kill for you. That is what you mean.”

Alixor shook his head. No, Ylen can not change this. Ylen is wrong.

Ylen continued, voice becoming stronger, the furrows of rage in his face becoming deep in the silver light shed by the noose around his neck.

“I will not use my power to kill.” Ylen said.

Alixor shook his head again, feeling tears pouring from his eyes. “You won’t help me.” He sobbed. “I need help.”

“I am not your weapon. I am your friend.”

“We are not friends. Not anymore.”

Ylen fell silent at this. With shaking hands, Alixor pulled out the rest of his supplies from his bag. When he set the ornate knife on the rock, it rang out softly against the stone. Ylen started and stared at the weapon. But he asked no more questions.

Ylen remained quiet as Alixor finished the spell and bound his hands and feet to the ground, spread-eagle.

Ylen said not a word when Alixor picked up the knife and crouched over Ylen’s body.

He only looked at Alixor. Studying him. Eyes shimmering with the light from the luminous ropes.

“I’m sorry.” Alixor sobbed.

“No.” Ylen smiled. “You are not.”

Alixor plunged the knife into Ylen’s belly and began to carve. Ylen screamed and struggled, but the shining ropes held him fast to the ground. Alixor’s vision was blurred by tears. He continued to cut and cut, laying Ylen’s body open to the air. Exposing every facet of the god’s existence. When Alixor finally found Ylen’s heart, the ground was soggy with blood.

The crimson organ beat wildly in the god’s chest, cradled in a nest of blood and bone and sinew. It was hot. Burning. It almost smoldered.

“Please.” Ylen wheezed.

Ylen had watched Alixor’s every move. Almost like he was committing this atrocity to a memory that would soon be gone.

Alixor wished Ylen would screw up his eyes and just scream. Rather than this. Rather than pleading with him. Anything but this.

“Please.” Ylen repeated. “Please kill me.”

Alixor set down his knife, now slippery with viscera.

“Please don’t use my power for this.”

Alixor had long ago run out of tears. He was feverish and thirsty at this point. Dizzy with the heat of Ylen’s burning body. Who would have thought a god of wildfire would boil on the inside? Alixor braced himself and reached for Ylen’s heart with his bare hand. He wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t lucid. The cold night spun about him and he gasped for breath.

The heart seared his flesh. Alixor cried out but did not let go. He pulled and tore and wrenched and ripped and twisted. The heart came free. Alixor slumped down on the ground, clutching at his scorched hand. The heart flopped onto the grass and continued to beat.

“Please.” Ylen continued to whisper.

Alixor sobbed, great heaving sobs that nearly choked him. He vomited bile. Then lay there for a long time trying to catch his breath.

“Please don’t use me to kill.”

Alixor, laying on his side, watched the heart continue to beat. It steamed in the cold night air. His hand throbbed. He had to do this. This was the only way. He had to save his people. This would give him the power to save everyone. Alixor reached for the heart again with his blistered hand.

“Please.”

Alixor’s mouth was scalded when he took the first bite of flesh. It hurt even more when he swallowed down the second. Agony bloomed in his stomach. He was on fire, from the inside out. Still, he ate.

Ylen watched him. “Please.”

Alixor kept eating.

[angelnumber27]

The Tyre Nichols Memorial Fund

Tyre Nichols was loved by his community and was known to be gentle, kind, and joyful. He loved skating and was originally from the Bay Area in California. He was known as someone “you know when he comes through the door he wants to give you a hug” and that “he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“He had never been in trouble with the law, not even a parking ticket. He was an honest man, a wonderful son, and kind to everyone. He was quirky and true to himself, and his loss will be felt nationally.”

Btw, the link includes a photo of graphic injuries. View with discretion.

[kazik-bitch-ass-motherfucker]

Chapter 20!!!

TW: Heavy graphic violence (Vivisection), Cannibalism, Transphobia (Deadnaming, misgendering), Sexual abuse mention, PTSD symptoms (Mania, dissociation)

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT!!! (Summary in tags if you’re squeamish!!!)

[aychama]

Cw / Implied Violence

Thinking about Lambert’s backstory and getting sad…