#YA.

[stuckinapril]

[shininguponthestars]

happy birthday minglesssss

[galactigatorr]

dynaswap redraw over a photo of jamie lol

[mclynch]

something something toxic yaoi

[madaraservingcunt]

[sunnypogue]

[angelbinder]

i don’t think father ward wants to slay anymore

[cattstep]

:3

[singaporesainz]

listen i know to each their own but i think it’s pretty weird that people had fan accounts for alexandra when she’s pretty much as private as a wag can be. like do they not feel weird posting scraps from friends accounts and like the blurriest fucking fan cam ever just to be like “omg my queen 🥰💕” ???????? i think wag accounts for any of them is soooooo …. soooooo interesting

[realityandrebirth]

while im on the topic of Gender:

nonbinary morro using trick/tricks/trickself or treat/treats/treatself. bye

[raremikey]

Pictures that make me want to bite his neck

[fieriframes]

[OKAY. TWO HOURS? HOW LONG? TWO HOURS. MEANT TO DO—AND DOGS, AND BEES? I'M WITH YA.]

[ratrot]

Man I forgot to post this, it’s a bit old and I don’t like it that much anymore but it’s alright.

Lemon demon oc…guess which song I based him off of 💀

My little silly traumatized zombiegirl. I love him dearly though he’s so hard to draw consistently.

[twilightarcade]

I love aksing tumblr users quesirons

[kits-ships]

baby girl i want u

[epistrefei]

butterflies. our muses doing something new in bed. / rosie. go fuckin nuts

There are some nights that Artemis is more of a Wild Thing than she is a woman. Could be the silent shine of a full moon upon the quiet Earth. The impenetrable darkness of some nights under the forest canopy. Maybe it was her innate nature calling to her after so long stationary, so long tamed under Zahrosa's roof. Regardless, it had to escape somewhere, somehow.

This night, it is so dark that the stars do not even cast a twinkle in the broad sky. It is eerily quiet, no wind to speak of, not even the chirp of some chatty birds. It was quiet. Eerie. The site of a beautiful, horrible hunt, with the sorceress at the epicentre of it.

She runs so quickly through the forest that her legs can barely keep her skinny body upright. Zahrosa navigates the dark like a shadow, so familiar with it and yet darting about in a strange, whimsical wood. It is the type of place that would strike a chill into anyone who had an inkling of survival instinct. Here, predators lurked. They thrived. And for tonight, Zahrosa was prey.

The only hint that she is being chased is the faint crackle of twigs not far behind her. There, flashing through the smallest rays of light, blurs a body. Human-shaped but not acting with an ounce of humanity in the slightest. It runs on all fours, barely visible to the human eye with the speed it moves. Another flash of light—sharp, sharp canine teeth peek out from bloodied lips. A third—silver eyes narrowed into the skinniest feline slit. A growl, deep and guttural.

Zahrosa's breathing quickens, though a spike of fear-arousal flashes through her quick as a bolt of lightning. How dreadfully familiar this scene was, this chase, nearly like nights centuries ago.

Instead of villagers, a feral, unpredictable Goddess, stalking her and eyeing her like the next meal.

In the clearing ahead, it looks to be bright, open field below the breaking moon from the clouds. An escape. Almost to the end. So obvious and blatant, it was never a place to be slaughtered. It was too much on the nose, too vulnerable a place to feast. That is why Zahrosa promptly careens into the muddy ground.

It is so simple a strategy it is maddening. A makeshift snare perfectly sized for a foot—wire cutting into black flesh to let blood warm the ground in sickly sweetness. A chain reaction of other more elaborate traps sprung by the first until jagged wire and rope loop and tighten around each of Zahrosa's limbs. Artemis—some part of Artemis—drops from high in the trees and stalks low towards Zahrosa. She stands over Zahrosa silently, so stock still that it almost looks like she is going to help the sorceress.

No.

The carnal Goddess drops flat to the ground on her hands and knees. Dirt flecks her naked body as it comes into view. Her knees, feet and hands are grass stained and streaked in flecks of gold like little skinned wounds from the tree bark and rock. She crawls up and her mouth meets the hard black of Zahrosa's ankle. It resembles a kiss—but it turns into skimming sharp teeth hard enough to scratch. She licks where the snare had cut into, pressing into the thin wound with no mercy.

When she tires of that, her silver eyes flash menacingly. Rearing back once more, Artemis pounces onto the other woman and dives straight for the neck. She bites ferociously into it, seeking out the taste of her blood warm in her mouth and the crush of flesh under her jaw. It is safe to say that the blonde's dress does not survive much longer—she rips it off of her body into shreds, ribbons, and soon the sorceress is crying out the Goddess' name into the night.