#crimson innit

[thedrunkdrawingboard]

Meanwhile in the main timeline… wonder how that Crim fella is doing?

[the-crimson]

I’ve seen a decent amount of people comparing the vibes of the qsmp to the dsmp and I thought id give my two cents because there is a huge difference between these servers that I haven’t seen mentioned. I’m gonna put it under a cut so if u don’t care for the dsmp or this comparison ignore this post XD

So, the main thing, is that the dsmp was never intended to be a roll play server while the qsmp was 100% a role play server from the start- like that is the entire point lol

Because the dsmp was never intended to be an rp server, it didn’t have the infrastructure to support the collaboration required irl. There are so many horror stories of last minute script changes and people being left out of the loop for key events and its like... the server had had so much time to implement things irl to help with that but they didn’t because only a few people were running the show.

This is the other thing, the main lore and story was mainly driven by like 3 people so all the other ccs lore and plans were left in the dust. People were constantly being rainchecked on important lore events until it was too late and the server/audience had moved on or the lore that was there was belittled and mocked by the more popular ccs. And because these ccs didn’t take it seriously, neither did their massive audience. Most people only cared about lore where they were the center so collaborating was very difficult. It was really messed up and I’m still salty about a lot of it lol

My favorite arc on the dsmp was the eggpire arc because there were no main characters. Everyone involved was on equal footing and you could tell there was a lot of communication and planning irl and that everyone involved was passionate about the story they were telling. However, any time Tommy touched the lore, I would get so pissed because he was such an ass. Like, any lore Tommy touched that did not revolve around him, he ruined and I’m glad people stopped trying to involve him in the eggpire after like 1 or 2 streams lol He is one of the main reasons many fans thought the eggpire arc was a joke. He is just one example of a cc on the dsmp that had terrible rp etiquette, there were many more.

I think the end of the eggpire arc, the red banquet, was a victim of the more influential ccs on the server not wanting it to become the server ending threat it should have been. They wanted it to remain a side story. The lead up to the red banquet was so amazing and the stream itself was also so amazing but it just felt like the beginning of the eggpire’s arc! I was so confused when that was the end of the eggpire because - without changing anything about the red banquet - it opened the door for a truly great conclusion to the dsmp storyline that could have tied of everyone’s character arcs without it dragging on for another 1, 2?, years only for a weak ass finally.

I have an entire 40 chapter fic outlined where the red banquet is the beginning of the end for the server and its a banger - if i ever actually write it T_T

I’m going to briefly explain why the red banquet planted a future arc perfectly: the egg killed a demigod (Foolish) which could have given it enough energy to hatch or at least become close to it. Purpled could have been playing Quackity and BBH to get double payment and told BBH that Quackity was going to attack, that’s why Purpled didn’t chase after the eggpire when they were escaping - then, when Quackity destroyed his UFO, Purpled joins the eggpire to get revenge on Quackity. Everyone at the red banquet who ate the soup could have been infected by the egg and slowly brainwashed over the following days/weeks. Nicki (a member of the anarchist commune) was on the inside and could have been working with Techno, leading to the anarchist commune joining the fight against the egg as a whole. The Red Banquet was a false victory that put the rest of the server at ease while the eggpire was only growing stronger.

It could have been so good!!!! Screams.

But - my theory - is that bbh and the others had to wrap it up because the bigger ccs had “more important lore” that they wanted to do. The eggpire and red banquet arc felt the most close to the qsmp out of any lore on the dsmp which makes total sense as to why Quackity invited bbh since the eggpire was mainly his creation XD

I think Quackity learned a lot from the chaos and disorder of the dsmp behind the scenes and went out his way to ensure his server would not run into the same problems. Not only is there a solid infrastructure of admins and discord channels, he chooses to bring in ccs who are respectful and have good rp etiquette and know how to tell stories. Everyone has been wondering why Jaiden was added, including Jaiden XD, but it makes sense! She is a story teller and those are the types of people Quackity needed.

At the end of the day, the dsmp was never intended to become an rp server and was doomed by that from the start, just like L’manberg. There are plenty of wonderful stories that were told but so many more that were left in the shadows and forgotten due to poor rp etiquette and that will forever be a tragedy.

[thistuesdaynight]

I am hopelessly and desperately in love with Regulus Arcturus Black.

Anyway, I wonder what it's like to be mentally stable? Anyone know?

[delicehm]

HEADCANON TIME!

There are plenty of divine figures and each of them has a vision of how the world must look like and mortals they want to succeed. There are many disagreements within godly community. Compramissions can't be made, but war of such powerful beings would demolish the whole universe and looking for new one would be tiresome. Instead, every group of divine figures in any universe have something, that looks like game. Such games have different names and rules, but always are about manipulating mortals to achieve their goals without direct interventions. They may look like game of chess, but they aren't even remotely similar.

Members of divine game in Dream SMP:

1. DreamXD. First guardian of Dream SMP. The one, who created it's world and gave it the name. Created the rules for it's divine game, that every other members agreed with. One of three best players. Stole Foolish from Mother Innit(she didn't mind it). Pretends to be divine patron of Dream, but in fact patronise George. He believe that stories have meaning only if they have end and so want every mortal to die, bringing the end to his perfect symphony

2. Mother Innit. Goddess of Life. One of three best players. In fact, she was so good, that XD could outsmart her only after years of trying to put her guard down. Divine patron of Tommy. Want the world to evolve on it's own, but will make sure, that her son would be safe and happy. Brought Kristin, her business(if it can be called like that) partner, to Game

3. Kristin. Goddess of Death. Qualified player, but does not take game seriously. She has her own realm to give little care about the world of living. Divine patron of Philza and, basically, just tries to make sure, that he will be happy in the end. During game, give some advices to Sally

4. Sally. Goddess of Ocean. Has literally no idea how to play, but tries her best(and still every move is terrible). At first was divine patron of Wilbur, but lost faith in him and began to patronize Fundy. It didn't help him mich. Youngest of Gods, if we don't count Karl Major. Appreciate Kristin's mentoring

5. Karl Major. God of Time. At first, was just ordinary Karl Jacobs, the Time Traveler. After Incident learnt everything about time traveling that Inbetween could teach and spent so many years trying to fix everything with those powers, but failing every time. Each time he tried, he lost parts of connection to the Time(he learnt, how to keep memories, but sacrifices are needed), until ascended above it. Now, tries to create the best timeline from new position. Divine patron of Karl Minor, his younger version. Stole Overseers of Inbetween and Other Side from DreamXD. Dream didn't like it. While others play "Chess", he plays "5D chess with multi universal time traveling", still failing in most timelines

6. Blood God. Pretty self-explanatory(Not just blood tho, power, rage, war and justice all are his symbols. In a way, Nether is his domain). Divine patron if Techno. With Mother Innit about allowing the world to evolve on it's own, but want to create a system, that will make this evolving just and fair. Created a fragile faction with Kristin And Mother Innit due to similar views

7. Egg. Creature of Corruption. Pet of DreamXD. NOT A PLAYER, but comes from time to time to flip the table. When it happens, everyone shout at it and tries to put away.

[kaptain-kosmos-hq]

i love the artstyle holy crap-

also Eggpire!Innit???

hello starlight

[forsworned]

WHAT IF

WHAT IF SUB!PRICE?

JUST A THOUGHT

WHAT IF WHAT IF WHAT IF I AGREE JUST A THOUGHT ALSO I AM WORK OKAY SO I JUST WANTED TO UPDATE THIS BLOG RQ HIIII

John Price is an authoritative man. His words are naturally of a presiding nature, governing where his subordinates should be, and keeping them in line. But a spark ignites when your heel is perched by the side of his temple, outlining the sharp edge of his jaw, and the border of his collarbone. His hardened length presses against his tactical pants as he glances up at your form towering over him, so he can see right under that mid-thigh length dress.

"No knickers?" His rugged features are painted crimson red, grinning from ear to ear as he smoothes out chestnut hair between his calloused fingers.

"Who said you could speak?" You skim the outline of his bulge with the tip of your heel, and it sends a frisson up his spinal column. Your face illuminates with delight at the sight of him seeking thrill from your dominant stance over him (literally).

He eagerly licks his lips. "Apologies, madame." He turns to kiss the point of your pump, and he continues to leave a wake of kisses on the bare skin of your foot. A sigh escapes you and you're losing your balance, and you come crashing down, but with the help of your husband he catches you in time. An embarrassed giggle leaves your lips and he follows.

"Hard being in control, innit?" He breathes out, brushing the strands out of your face and you feel warm under his gentle touch and his tender gaze.

You nod. "Difficult job you have, Captain." You reply with a coy smile. He hums at that, feeling his trousers tighten and your melodic mirth fills his ears as his cheeks blossom with vermillion.

"You like when I call you that, huh?" You tease, kissing the corner of his lips and he chuckles, resonating against your chest as you feel it vibrate against your sternum.

There's a mischievous glint in his cerulean hues. "Maybe."

[drefear]

Sister's Mister

Summary: You and your sister are having issues now that Miguel and her are official. Your friends have some opinions, and things finally get heated.

TW: drinking, heartbreak, cheating, family issues.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Peter had begun bringing Miguel around more and more, to whom the only person who seemed to dislike this was Miles, but they didn’t interact much. Miles always just kept Gwen close by when Miguel was around, not trusting him around his girlfriend. 

Something about Miguel made MIles uncomfortable, and he tried to tell both you and your sister, but it was no use. Your sister was in love, and you were too visceral to everything now to even comprehend what he was saying. The situation had made you into a shell of who you were. 

One person who found this all very entertaining?

Hobie Fucking Brown. 

Hobie saw you in that nightclub and knew you were the one Miguel had mumbled to him about a few times while he was drunk. Hobie and Peter took Miguel, Jess, and Lyla out a few times since they’d all become friends freshman year and got them all drunk. 

But in the recent few months since Miguel’s summer classes started, he would mumble about some girl under his breath when he was drunk, talk about her like she was a figment of his imagination. 

When Hobie saw you sitting alone in the nightclub, sipping your drink and awkwardly looking around as if searching for an escape route, he knew you were the one Miguel was fixated on. But the poor big bastard was too busy grinding on a girl who could be mistaken for a hooker, so much caked on lipstick and ass almost hanging out. 

Chaos was Hobie’s specialty and when he started dancing with you, he saw a crimson fire burn in Miguel’s eyes. Over your shoulder, he kept winking at the larger of the two, seeing something itch Miguel on the inside of his throat, giving Hobie the idea that he was in for it once they spoke again. 

And then the floozy was dragging Miguel over to you and Hobbie, and this made the alternative boy smile. How perfectly everything was falling into place. 

Hobie pulled you closer, something that had gone unnoticed by the females of the group and had Miguel’s hand almost twitching. 

Weeks had gone by, then he saw you at that party and heard you drunkenly venting. 

“Big and fuckin… stupid, ya know, Gweny? And like… my sister tells me about the sex, Gwen, the sex!” You were barely coherent as you rambled and this made Hobie laugh. He walked off to find his own fling of the night and a few hours later, he saw the big guy carrying out your passed-out body. 

The next day was the pool party and after the heat interaction between you and Miguel, he clapped his hands and laughed. 

“Time for grub, innit? How bout the food now?” He stood and walked to Peter, who hurriedly started passing out food. 

He just sat back and watched, waiting to interfere when he might be needed most, which he had a feeling would be soon. 

Meanwhile, Miguel walked around and finally found Gianna in the upstairs bedroom. 

“Gianna?” He asked and she turned, hugging him. 

“There you are, Miggy! Did you two talk? She still seems really mad.” Gianna bat her eyes and poured a bit, and Miguel felt sick to his stomach. The guilt of wanting you made his mouth dry and his hands freeze. 

“We need to talk.” He took her hand and led her to Mile’s living room. 

“Oh my god.” She covered her mouth and sat down, moving away from him a little. “I guess this was inevitable.” She let her shoulders sag and stared at the ground. 

“Well, I don’t think I’d say it was inevitable. It just started before us, and if I never-“ he looked up once her heard her crying, big tears streaming down her face as she hiccuped a bit. 

“I’m so sorry, Miguel. It’s just- I couldn’t help it!” She gasped and Miguel stopped dead in his tracks. What?

“What are you talking about?” He leaned backwards, frowning a bit. 

“This is about me and my ex, right?” She looked up, eyes glassy and red from crying now. Miguel stood up and furrowed his brows. 

“This- I didn’t even know… did you cheat on me?” The words felt sour in his mouth and like razors on his lips. He stepped backwards and watched as she stood up, reaching towards him. He moved from her hand and glared at the girl. 

“I thought you already knew, wasn’t that what you wanted to talk about?” She looked up to him in shame, then squeezed her eyes shut. “It wasn’t anything much, just a hookup.” 

“I came out here to tell you this wasn’t working because I want someone else.” He blurted out and a hurt expression flashed across Gianna’s face. 

“Who?” 

“Does it even matter now? You’re the one who cheated, I was going to cut things off before anything happened with her.” He started walking away from her. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To go fuck someone else, so I don’t have your taste in my mouth anymore.” He growled and stormed out. He needed to find you. Now. 

But you went home. You snuck out of the bathroom and went home, too embarrassed and hurt to see everyone again. 

How could you face your sister? Ben? Miles and Gwen? Everything was so screwed up, so messy now and you didn’t want to deal with it. You drove home and locked yourself in your bedroom, afraid of the world. 

Days had passed and it was the last class of the semester. You’d been watching your classes online so you didn’t have to leave your house, wanting to avoid everyone and everything. The only time you had to see anyone is when you had to eat, but your mom mainly brought your food to your bedroom. 

Walking onto campus, the sun beat down on you so hard and blinded you behind your sunglasses. You hurried into the lecture hall and bent your head down behind your laptop screen. You needed this final grade, it was an important class for you, but there was only one issue.

A looming presence made you scrunch your eyes shut and curl over your computer more. 

“We need to talk-“

“Class is starting.” You cut him off and fixed the darkened lenses on your nose. 

“Fine.” He yanked out the chair beside you and plopped himself down, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You sighed, giving up and letting him sit there. “Did you study?”

“No.” He answered, as if your question was stupid, “Did you?” 

“I tried, but I couldn't focus.” You slumped, to which Miguel bit his lip. He felt responsible for your distractions. 

“Cheat off of me, then.” 

“What?” You blinked in surprise, uncomfortable with how this sentence made your morality feel. 

“It’s the final, and you know your shit, so if you need to look over to me at any point, just check your answer. I know I’m gonna get an A anyway, this is my whole job.” He rolled his eyes and scooted closer to you, making you suddenly very conscious of the heat of his body near yours and how you looked. 

“F-Fine, but only if I need to, ok?” You stuttered and looked away from him. 

“Only if you promise to talk to me after.” He raised a brow and practically trapped you with just the look in his eyes. 

“Ok, but not here. We’ll get food or something.” You stammered nervously and heard the professor start talking. 

An hour and a half later, you finally finished the test, only glancing at Miguel once through the whole test. A lot of the source material came back to you every time you read the question, only one part stumping you briefly before Miguel held up three fingers and instructed you that it was the third option. 

Walking back out into the sunlight, Miguel grabbed your jean loop and stopped you from running away. “We’re taking my car, since you’re basically an escape artist.” You gulped, seeing how intent he was with speaking with you seriously. Every bone in your body was hesitant and afraid of what he might say, you knew him and Gianna broke up shortly after the fight you had with him and your bathroom excursion. She didn’t want to talk about it, and you didn’t particularly want to talk to her. Everytime you two even made eye contact, bile rose in your esophagus and you choked on the stifling shame of how you felt for her ex-boyfriend. 

Miguel followed you to his car and had you in the front as you watched everything pass by, thinking about how badly life had crumbled the past few weeks. 

Miguel’s hand gripped the steering wheel tighter as he saw you so quiet and upset. He hated this side of you, sad and hurt, but it seemed that this was the only side he brought out of you. 

He finally parked after the silent ride and walked around to get the door for you, waiting for you to jump out and also grabbing the door for you as you both entered the coffee shop. You’d never noticed him being a gentleman before, maybe because you’d never even given him the chance. 

You sat at a table inside and leaned on the wall beside you, too tired to even sit upright. He stood on the line and ordered coffee for you both, as well as a breakfast sandwich. You stared at his tall frame as he took the seat in front of you and sighed. 

“We should get some things out of the way.” He started and you nodded quietly. “I’ll begin with what happened . Your sister and I broke up because she cheated on me and I like you.” 

He spoke like this was obvious but your eyes widened in shock. 

“She cheated? With who?” 

“Some guy in her honors biology class. It wasn’t a big deal, we weren’t that serious and it was only two months.” He shrugged, sipping his black coffee as you milked yours with sugar and cream. 

“But still…” You trailed off and bit your lip. You felt his hurt, but he seemed so indifferent that it made you think again and then remember what else he said. “You like me?” 

His eyes found yours and he nodded.  “I liked you before I knew her, I’ve thought about you since the summer classes started.” He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, like he was thinking, and the movement had you mesmerized. “Never knew your name, and when I met Gianna, I liked her because she resembled you, but then I was always around you and I would get angry and bitter because I had gotten so close, yet it wasn’t you.” Miguel rambled, running a hand through his brown hair and sighing in frustration from trying to explain his emotions. You grabbed the hand from his hair before you even realized what you were doing and held it on your own, then dropping it and blushing. 

“I uh-” 

Without waiting for your response, he grabbed that hand again and held it. You sat in silence for a second and stared at where your bodies now met. “You run through my mind like you have no idea.” his hand brushed yours once more and you realized something. 

“You were the one who helped me when I was drunk at Miles’s party.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling a little. 

You two sat there for hours, talking and laughing as you shared stories and feelings, as if a weight was lifted from both of your shoulders and you could be open to the other now. 

As you threw your head back from laughter to something he said, you heard someone call your name from behind you as you turned and met the eyes of the one person who wouldn’t understand. You both froze, fear chilling the entire area around you all. 

“Gianna?”

Tags: @ihateuguys @spontaneousleo @ginger23 @y2cade @alex110370000 @winteringfalls @neverlandlostchild @haileycannotcometothephonern @loser-alert @idk-sam@bunnyrose01 @minalovesyoubabes @thedevax @arquiiva @freehentai @vonev @rue-ting @darkfairy102190 @iamv1n @teresalesbian @killykstudio @topreice @artyanimi@hrlzy @mikotoguilty @ceoofmiguel @jotarossshark @i-want-to-be-your-dreamgirl @arquiiva @loonalockley @spiderwriter2099 @mikotoguilty @scaleniusrm @angel-xx-1 @siidmm @tayleighuh @zaunsin @imheretoread @lazyotakuofficial @callmeurslxt-pls @angelaut0matec @vonev

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[darklydeliciousdesires]

Ser Alfred of House Lannister

Ser Alfred Lannister, King's Guard.

The first son of Lord Rywan of Casterly Rock, Alfred took his place within the King's Guard upon his twenty-first name day. A savage swordsman and close friend and confidant to King Aerthurys, his intended betrothal to Princess Adaerya will bond the families in their alliance further, forging them as the most powerful houses in all of Westeros. Indeed, Aerthurys broke the sacred rule that no knights of the King's Guard are ever allowed to take a wife, all in effort to bring his wild and tempestuous sister under control.

No man other than his closest friend was more fitting to take on such a role.

"I am trusting you with her, Alfred," Aerthurys spoke, the two men standing at a window within the Red Keep, watching as Adaerya flew over the water aboard Mele, the dragon's scales glittering crimson in the bright morning sun. "I have bent the rules considerably for this marriage to take place."

"Aerth, you're the King, old lad," Alfred began, gripping his shoulder fondly. "You can do as you please, so don't act like it's some huge thing here, yeah?" Sipping his wine, he looked to the skies, watching Mele swish her tail as she ascended further. "It's me who's got the hard work ahead of him."

The King hummed on a chuckle. "Haven't you just?"

"I've cut down our enemies into shreds at the end of my sword, protected the realm, but my biggest challenge awaits. Taming a fucking Targaryen princess; one who's much too fond of cremating anything that don't please her, innit?"

"I'm sure you'll manage just fine. Give her babies, another purpose besides her penchant for fire."

Alfred smirked. Oh, he intended to. "And I will, but trust me here, your grace. Come the time when she needs to, she'll lead the fight in the air while I march upon the land. All the babies in the world ain't gonna knock that out of her. It's in her blood. Same with all of you violet-eyed fuckers. Ain't no taming none of ya."

"Then I happily settle for you slowing her down at least some of the time, old friend."

With Adaerya, that was truly all that either of them could hope for.

@call-sign-shark @cillmequick @justrainandcoffee @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

@shelbydelrey @mischievouslittlecreature

[mikey-innit]

"It was never meant to be."

heya! i'm michael (aka mikey-innit, old username jolteonsparks) and i'm mainly on here to reblog stuff from fandoms i like or just relatable shit, but i also really enjoy making friends. i can be a hardcore yapper if you're willing to listen to me, and i also really appreciate any asks that are sent my way. :]

Fandoms:

dream smp + mcyts in general

percy jackson

the owl house

hazbin hotel

sonic

undertale

marvel

pokémon

keeper of the lost cities

stranger things

teenage mutant ninja turtles

the hunger games

wings of fire

harry potter (inc. hogwarts legacy)

Fave Songwriters:

marina

mitski

cavetown

lana del rey

olivia rodrigo

ayesha erotica

tv girl

mac de marco

artic monkeys

isabel larosa

alex g

imagine dragons

Facts About Me:

i'm a proud slytherin

i'm a cabin one kid (child of zeus)

i'm probably a charger (kotlc)

my favourite streamers are ranboo and quackity

my favourite pokémon are quilava, growlithe/arcanine and absol

my favourite song is probably "she" by tyler the creator or "put me in a movie" by bulcadoshow

my biggest kins are probably scaramouche and blitzø (no im not ok)

i'm an editor and have a yt channel called @.mikeyinnit

i'm a writer and tend to write a lot of shit on my quotev account @.quiiava and currently have a book i'm working on called "crimson wealth"

if you let me ramble about my ocs and obsessions i will love you forever

i'm omnisexual and my pronouns are he/him only

shoutout to my best friend @pocketedxoxo and my partner @thund3rfox-greenhouse and to my moots @blue-razzslushie, @inkcapjester, @lamieboo, @bleep-bloop-boo, @salamandercloud, @lanaactuallyabanana and @tomathy-inside-of-the-it :]

please be my friend i need some so badly

Thank you for reading all the way!

[tiktaalic]

Hi so if you feel like it. Do you have any starter horror recommendations for someone who wants to watch more horror but is a wuss about it. For context I have an extra hard time with gore/body horror. Guy with knife much scarier than ghosts/demons/etc. Anything more thesis-horror is helpful because thinking about the thesis distracts me from the Scared. Weird/insane/unhinged women are borderline mandatory.

Again just if you feel like it but if you do thanks a bunch in advance!!!

hmmmmm okay. let me look at my letterboxd. gonna cut this one for lenght.

oddity - from my memory pretty light on blood guts etc. there's really only one scene where you see like. blood splatter. iirc. i thought it was really beautifully shot. ghosts AND guys with knives.

red rooms - there's literally one visible shot of "yuck" (bones) in the first 15? minutes but it revolves around a trial for murder so there are yknow. people detailing gruesome acts out loud but theres literally only the one shot in the whole thing. awesome women in this one. guys with knives.

creep + creep 2 - as far as a i remember more of a suspense thing than blood and guts. and also really good! crazy woman in 2. guy with knives.

hell house llc - i watched this one today and really liked it for what it is. there's one scene towards the end with blood but that's really it the rest of it is suspense. ghosts.

crimson peak - awesome. women in it. ghosts. i dont remember there being a ton of blood? people die in it but i dont think any of it is like. on screen close up on wounds. ghosts.

it follows - ghosts. i do remember going yeek! at one of the ghost forms. the soundtrack is great.

stoker is showing up when i sort by horror which i dont think is true. but it does rule and it does have nicole kidman in it and is in comparison to horror as a genre light on gore. women

whatever happened to baby jane another one that letterbox is calling horror that i dont necessarily agree with. but definitely OK as far as yuck goes. no yuck #noyuck. women

lake mungo - kind of a normie pick as far as tumblr rec goes. shows up on a lot of ppl's fav lists. shows up on a lot of lists for women in horror. ghosts. no blood guts even a little bit just ghosts that look creepy

poltergeist - as far as i remember really really tame. ghosts. obvs.

psycho + psycho 2. well its psycho innit. so.

signs - aliens in there.

the craft - witches. women. i dont remember it being a super gross one?

night of the living dead - it's literally night of the living dead

i grew up watching the old universal horror movies. wolfman invisible man mummy frankenstein dracula creature from the black lagoon etc. which i do think are worth watching.

looking at this list realizing i watch a lot of stuff that's very what if there was a fucked up guy. anyway. those i think are pretty safe bets in terms of. light on blood/body horror. if you feel braver. well.

bodies bodies bodies - not a scary movie just a silly one where people are dying. there is blood in it though. so. women

talk to me - ghosts. i liked it a lot. there is like. head slamming into a table repeatedly so hard someone goes into a coma though. woman

malignant - sillayyyyyyy. but quite bloody. kind of ghosts themed

12 hour shift - dont remember how much blood is in this one but it centers on organ trafficking so probably some. i remember liking it a lot tho. no ghosts. woman

us - scared the shit out of me the first time i watched it. no ghosts but . not classical guy with knife either. but quite good. woman

hereditary - theres blood in this one. sometimes things that are lauded are good. sorry.

raw - blood. but really good. and #women

cabin in the woods - blood in there but it is i think probably my favorite referential horror comedy.

jennifer's body - yeah you know it. dont need to say more

the descent - really fucking good really fucking scary people's bodies get fucked up. women movie of all time

28 days later - i liked it. i dont remember much about it but i liked it when i watched it. zombies

eight legged freaks - sillayyyyy. giant spiders

ginger snaps - classic for a reason. women. e blood

candyman - the original reallyyyyy good. havent seen the new one but the original incredibly good.

reanimator + bride of reanimator - silly one. with some. um. one blood. two. body horror. three. content warnings.

frankenhooker - nother silly one. with moderate very silly gore.

tremors - creature movie. silly. fun.

lair of the white worm - creature movie. awesome

killer klowns from outer space - quiteeeee silly dont remember where it falls on gore even a little bit.

hellraiser - i rmemeber it being good. but i mean. species of demons called pinhead. due to having pins, in their heads,

nightmare on elm street 1/2/3. one you kind of have to watch. 2 is bonkers homophobic it's awesome. 3 is just fun. demons. i guess.

the hitcher - guy with knives. blood. pretty cool though.

the thing - body horror as fuck. but really good. creatures

american werewolf in london - gore + body horror but quite good.

friday the 13th. i liked it! kind of guy with knives by definition tho

phantom of the paradise - another silly one. dont remember the blood content but its quiteeee silly and fun i liked it a lot

long legs - i liked it, but there's deffo blood in it, and i also think it should probably be watched in a theatrical setting to enjoy it.

my watchlist, which i havent watched, and cant vouch for:

may (women)

titane (women)

hatching (women)

[a-gal-with-taste]

Certainties & Mistletoe - Part 2

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable... but the events it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 4946 Words |

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Tags: Slow-burn, humor, banter, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, maid!Reader, some world-building, pining (?!?), denial of feelings/everyone has denial, Scrooge being a grump (shocker), I literally don't know where this is going but gosh is it fun

A/N: Second chapter. Why? Haven't figured it out yet, and also don't know where this is going. Enjoy the ride!

If anything was affixed in reliability in regards to your strange-sort of new-reality, it was the fact that it was difficult to ignore that pesky little sprig. 

Not just difficult. 

Quite impossible, actually, considering it sat prominent at the corner of the undecorated desk of Mister Ebenezer Scrooge. 

A desk currently unoccupied. 

The district of Cornhill in its entirety left shaken by the sight of such a man on the prowl, particularly in this season’s time. Pity as it was to wish-upon the innocent the presence of Scrooge, you felt free alone in his business-quarters as you went-about your normal, average routine...

As normal as could be, with the singular reminder of your transgression still sitting upright and full of life, on that small glass of water at the miser’s desk. Right there... right there, out in the open, for all, and especially the Master-himself, to see!

It felt like a mockery. Taunting you, with a memory already half-repressed, forcing it back into the forefront every time you saw the spiky-leaves from the corners of vision, the crimson berries gleaming-still in candlelight...

You half-thought the thing lived-on, refusing to even consider wilting, just out of spite.

Henceforth, why you chose to regard it with an eye full of loathing, and offer a wide-berth around its immediate proximity. A fact that was as ridiculous, as it was entirely unignorable by parties not-privy to your internal conflict.

“Miss?”

You hummed in a way that proved you were listening, despite the venomous staring-match you were engaged-in. With a plant.

“Fairly sure those berries are only poisonous when eaten... they don’t jump out ‘atcha, frankly.”

Ah, Robert - though he swore that Bob was the name written on record - ever the relieving fresh-air in the stifling atmosphere that was Marley and Scrooge. His humor politely-stifled on most days to appease his mentor and employer, the brief freedom allowed between the hours of mid-morning, to five hours past-noon, were well-spent with an easy smile, and a more at-eased attitude.

Usually, it was a well-welcomed attitude. 

But the mischief that gleams in bi-colored eyes, that shift from yourself and to the out-of-place sprig, is enough to leave you wary before he even speaks.

“Though I can’t quite decide... whether your loathing comes from its poison, or spikes. Have you pricked yourself, perchance?”

“Were I lacking more wit than I currently possess, perhaps, but I am not-yet that clumsy,” You insist, but there’s a small smile shared from you to him, one that does-away with most of the troubled glint in your eyes. Most. 

“Strange, ‘innit?” He hummed in that almost-sweet, disarming way that had earned your gratefulness early-on in your employment. “Thought I’d be a-long into some great beyond before ol’ Ebenezer decided to stock up on decorations.” 

It’s spoken all in light joviality - out of respect, seasonal mood of jolly or legitimate amusement at the old man, you weren’t certain - but the second-opinion of the foul little thing does little to ease your mood. 

Your eyes slowly trail-back to it, nails digging into the meat of your palms as they tightened into fists. 

“I would think the very-same,” You murmur, eventually finding yourself able to turn your back on the desk and what resides there, in order to begin work along the shelves, all under Cratchit’s keen gaze. Keen, very-much curious, and unfortunately, eager for gossip to pass the hours.

“Well then. Have you any idea why he-?”

“Why-what? Who knows why that man does anything he-wills to do?” Too hasty, you knew, not only by how swiftly eyebrows shot-up, nearly touching his hairline.

Honesty would relieve you of some of the worry, you knew.

But it also seemed unbearable. To admit one's misconduct was enough of an embarrassment, but the crime-committed felt so much more severe than a slip in composure or social-graces...

Yet, it only took another lingering stare at the surviving twig of holly, before you wrung the dusting cloth between your fingers, “Mister Cratchit, have you ever done something truly... dreadful?”

No one would ever think a dear such as Bob capable of anything less-than goodness, but the copper-haired lad nodded rather quickly. “Oh, indeed! Rightfully so, my missus never lets me forget it.”

Stunned, breath caught between two-lungs, you asked out in a rush what it was.

“Thirty minutes late, I was, to own second girls’ arrival.” He confessed, a great and sorrowful light entering the eyes of two-shades as he wags his chin mournfully. “Nothing more-dreadful than that, Miss. It’s only out of blessing and that gold-heart of hers, that Kathie has never scorned me for it.”

Your heart sank - not necessarily from the story, though you did pity the family-loving man - but because it wasn’t even remotely-comparable to your own situation, and all the complications that now come with it.

Though, likely being the sole-woman alive who has so-willingly bestowed a kiss upon the lips of Ebenezer Scrooge, there was very-likely none to properly seek confidence-in.

So, physically shaking your thoughts from mind, you turned your inquiry to a subject far-less combustible, and humiliating. “Yet another child I find myself privy to be learning-of. Tell me, Robert, what good have I done to deserve such knowledge?”

“Bob, or Mister Cratchit if-you-please,” He corrected immediately, but with a pleased grin assuring you that no-offense was taken. “Two-years anniversary comes soon, since you’ve strode into this very office. It seemed appropriate.”

“In a way of celebration, I trust?”

“No other way I would speak of your presence here, miss.” The assurance is cut off, as Bob raps his knuckles upon his desk once, twice, with a canine briefly worrying at a chapped-lip before he continues. “That, and... well, you might very well privy to the sight of my children, soon enough. Two of them, to be exact.”

“Oh, Mister Cratchit, surely you don’t desire to host them among the company here.” You certainly had no issue with their attendance, but the office of Scrooge and the late Mister Marley was hardly a place of welcome for children.

“Oh no, they’d be so horribly bored, and Mister Scrooge would likely be-” A darting of eyes, much akin to your own, is paired with a gulp as he lays a gaze upon the somber work-station of the man-himself. “... displeased. But Kathie is of-age to begin work, with a voice as lovely as the Queen’s, I'd say! She might design to come ‘round upon her day, with my little man.”

“A son, too?” 

“Tim, man ‘o the house when I'm here, hard at work!” The declaration is spoken with pride, and it’s quite easy to respond with a small smile at the proud-father.

Perhaps it was selfish, but discussion of his life, rather than your own recent actions, was far more welcomed, even as something terribly weary entered his eyes before he continued.

“My... my boy would dowell with walking. Winter has never-quite been a friend with him, and... well. It’s come to the point where the exercise is much-needed, y’see, and I-”

“Mister Cratchit,” You interjected, sympathy in your eyes. “You need-not explain further. Perpetuating your woes with my curiosity was never an intention.” And it was clear, even with a lapse of details, that the situation with the Cratchit’s son was a woe-indeed.

“Right... right!” It was now his turn to shake-himself free of his troubles, which he did with a zeal that left his bright-copper hair to flip over his forehead. “Well, regardless... Miss, ‘ve no-doubt they’ll make the occasional trip! ‘Tis only natural for Cratchits to wish in staying-close, even when hard-at-work, though I can assure you, they’ll keep their business outside!”

“Tis not me you need to assure-this-to, but the caution is appreciated.” And the fact gave you plenty more to mull-over between the repetitiveness of your daily routine, dust collected and shaken-off the dusting-cloth with practiced ease. “Have I time and ability, I can spare a cuppa, warm, for the little-ones.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you-”

“And you haven’t, it’s merely an offer,” The smile you gave back was meant to invite ease, something which the clerk accepted after a moment. “Free-of-charge. Though darenot tell the Master of-that.”

“Heh, right... I shan’t.” A pause, the quiet words of gratitude nearly-silent, but no-less sincere. Again, pleasantries were a rarity in such-offices... three-years gone by, and still Cratchit was slow to get-used to them in your presence.

Keeping to normalcy. A lifestyle you thought mastered, and now something you missed bitterly, as your routine now seemed to revolve around... it, at his desk.

Foolish, it very-much was, but nonetheless, your steps naturally merged upon a new-path as you went about your duties - a bit quicker than normal, after the pauses taken during your conversing with the clerk - and kept ensuring you made as little visual-contact as possible with the sprig of your ire, the reason for that writhing cluster of uncertainty gathering inside you.

Why keep it? 

And, more significantly, why display it? As some sort of warning? Perchance it was a form of mockery, a private joke of which only one gains twisted-humor from... 

But was there humor to be had? From yourself, certainly-not, but recollection reminds you swiftly of the man’s own reaction to the incident... 

Averted eyes - surely out of the morbid embarrassment of the unprompted action.

Rapid, repeated clearing of the throat - solely for discomfort, you dreaded what occurred whenever the gentleman fell-ill, and what that entailed for you to do.

Your concern of some ailment only increased at the memory of reddened-cheeks - an occurrence that had twice been a happenstance. The prior evening upon your departure, and just this morning, upon your return.

With a sigh as you shuffled the books back unto their place on a cleaned-shelf, you resolved to detour from home to speak with a physician, speak on behalf of his welfare. A second-opinion... was it not what was desired in the first place, except for another scenario entirely?

You supposed you had to take victory elsewhere. If you could not succeed in unraveling the frazzled, mangled remnants of your good-sense, at least ensuring your employer was not catching-cold, was an acceptable alternate achievement in defeat of another.

That is, of course, what you tried to convince yourself. You feared you didn’t succeed much there either.

Speaking of the man, the clock struck the fifth-hour of past-noon.

By the second-ring announcing the time, you were dusting yourself to an acceptable greeting-condition - picking-up the pace as you passed the desk, and its topside contents you so-loathed.

The third and fourth tolling of bells both near-and-far finding yourself positioned, as always, by the front-door to brace to take hat & coat. Arms extended slightly, expectantly enough that your eyes slipped-closed as you sighed, bracing for the temporary flurry that would be let-in. From the season’s snow, and Mister Scrooge's return.

The twelfth-toll. 

The minute-hand passed the twelfth-rung entirely, marching onward to time forever and ever... and the front door did not open.

Understandable. It had slushed more than it had snowed the night previously, making the banks of snow less-pleasant to traverse through by oneself... doubly so, for Prudence would not make traveling conditions any-easier, despite the companionship she provided.

Allowing this consideration, a moment passed without fanfare. A second moment, another... but by the forth, you began to peer at the doorway rather perplexed, a frown gathering on your lips as you squinted out the port-window of the entryway, stretching upon your toes, and still catching no-sight of your employer.

A flicker of... something, unpleasant, crossed your mind.

“Robert-”

“Bob, miss.”

“-Mister Cratchit. Master Scrooge is late.”

“Oh no.” Less of alarm, more of polite-dismissal, the clerk raised his ruddy-nose high-enough over his freshly-inked book to squint-down the corridor to the back-offices, the grand clock sitting proudly at the back. “Hardly even five-after... five minutes after, miss! Hardly a wink in time."

You shook your head, glancing between the unopened door and clock. "Mayhaps, but this is Mister Scrooge we speak off. A man who considers ‘time to-be a finite resource to be transacted sparsely, to avoid its waste.’"

After nearly two-years, Ebenezer Scrooge was nothing, if-not predictable when it comes to stifling-speeches of practicality. You liked to think you did a well-enough mimic of voice and posture too, but the humor is lost quickly when six minutes pass.

A seventh. “He surely hasn’t gotten into an argument of some sort.”

“Mister Scrooge is rather, erm, efficient with those, miss. Doesn’t much-like getting caught up in one such as those.” An eighth, flirting close with the tenth-past the hour.

But Cratchit’s words were true enough; it was quite-possible that the man was among the most stubborn of humankind, the kind to be set-firm as stone, plowing through as efficiently and steadfastly solid as marble.

Which was why you started to pace at the entrance, when the minute-hand reached the first ten-moments of the hour. Sitting at the windowside, two-minutes later, with that cluster of troubled-nerves within you building and building, to the point you feared a combustion would take-place.

The avoidance should have been welcomed. 

Extra-time, even only the length of only a quarter-hour, was something you would normally see as a blessing and something to be welcomed wholeheartedly, entirely, and without any questioning as to the why.

But then you glance at the almost-empty desk, your eyes catching-sight of what exactly made the desk only almost empty.

The sprig of holly doesn't seem as much like a physical taunt, at this moment.

It's motivation.

One you find yourself taking subconsciously, as you rise from your waiting-seat at the windowside, and march over to the coat-rack. With your bonnet shoved over your hair as you tug on your coat, the voice of the bystanding clerk is enough to cut through the fog of your swirling-thoughts, "Leaving sooner than normal? No emergency, I hope?"

"Only the emergency of a search. I worry the worst, Mister Cratchit."

A slow blink, and lowered quill as the man frowned. "For Mister Scrooge? Surely not... yes, it's not-normal that he's absent for so-long, but I'm certain he's right-as-rain-"

"And if he's not?" You demanded, fingers a flurry over the buttons as you bundle yourself up to prep for the outside-chill. "Slicked-cobble is a nightmare, even for a man with a cane. Especially so, mayhaps, and God-knows there's few willing to help him if he's slipped or fallen."

Most would probably laugh, though you-yourself find little-humor in the thought.

"Oh, come now, miss, someone would fetch the doctor, surely! Imagined we would hear Prudence half-the-city away if something befall the fellow, besides-"

"I'm quite certain of it, but I need to be sure!" You insisted, tugging your gloves into place as you turned towards the door, turning to Cratchit in the midst of your strides. "I... I only wish to ensure all is well. If such-is, I'll be back only momentarily-"

The sharp, sudden gust of pure ice to your cheeks was only barely-registered, in time with the modestly-sized office building shaking from the force of the door flung open.

You had very-little time to register these two-sensations.

Even less time, to slow-down enough to prevent the collision, of you striding-out, and your fashionably-late employer marching-in.

Rather spectacularly, soundly colliding against his chest, your hands are coming up too-late to cushion the blow, and curl on his vest. It's only thanks to the sudden-rigidity in your body that you don't stumble-along with the gentleman as he staggers, winded from the blow, and you-yourself are able to keep upright.

Though, your legs feel slightly-weakened at the sharp, flabbergasted inhale that you feel, more than hear.

Another-breath is felt beneath your cheek, after the man finds his center-of-gravity once more, and after the faint deflating of his chest at sharp-exhalation, Prudence slices through the stifling fog of the incident with an excited bark at your feet.

Hands curled tighter, before you push yourself off his chest with chin still tucked-low towards your own. "I-I... You... I apologize, but you were running quite-late."

A poor, poor excuse. And hardly an apology, something Ebenezer Scrooge sincerely agrees with, as evident by his scoff. 

"A typical occurrence, miss, when one requires a detour from average paths."

"Well... yes, but I had-fear that you slipped, the cobbles are quite-slick this evening-"

"My relation with gravity is of such grand-importance to you? Humorous, considering you nearly made me fall-"

"You only did just the same, Mister Scrooge! An accident of equal blame, you can hardly push responsibility solely onto...." You trailed off, a bit lamely, as your gaze has raised in response to man. 

Pompous and sneering as his words are, you quickly take notice that Ebenezer has held himself in such a way that can only be described-best as stiff... he also refuses to look at you directly, line of sight barely-skimming over your brows. 

The non-whiskered skin of his cheeks still host some redness from his exposure to frost, even if the door has already swung-closed behind him. Excessively so, as the flushed-hue upon his skin extends from face, down to neck, peeking upon his ears from beneath his hat...

And...

He's also holding a fresh sprig of holly in a gloved-hand, newer than even the one hosted at his desk. Fist clenched tight about it, as if his body was subconsciously, fiercely opinionated on its existence.

You cannot yet-tell what that opinion might be.

"What... what is that?"

CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST ON AO3

[ragingbookdragon]

Empress is seemingly satisfied with herself as she prods at the Bluetooth in the corner of the bar, trying to change the music, and she’s successfully managed to fight off three Vaqueros wanting to keep the channel but there’s only so much Latin pop she can listen to before something else needs to play. A note of victory passes her lips as it switches to an American country station out of Laredo.

It’s an older Conway Twitty song, bouncing with guitar and drums, and a buzzed Empress is pulling a crimson-cheeked Rudy out of his seat to dance with her. It’s never been more obvious to the 141 and Vaqueros that their resident requisitions officer and Sergeant Major are in love. Alejandro is chuckling as he watches his best friend put one of his hands at her lower back looking rather flustered—it reminds him of the dance he peer-pressured Rudy into going to with Esmeralda down the block when they were fifteen—but Empress’ smile is infectious as the one on Rudy’s face begins to grow.

She spins them around, singing along. She said ‘I married money, I’m used to wearing pearls. But I’ve always dreamed of being just a good ol’ boys’ girl.’ Something in Rudy’s expression changes, softens almost when she sings it to him, as if he’s the only audience she has. ‘So tonight I left those crystal candle lights to live a dream. And partner, there’s a tiger in these tight fittin’ jeans.’

Rudy knows the song. Heard it before when he and Alejandro had taken a trip to Houston to visit some friends who’d moved up north, and the older man had switched the channels until he was satisfied with hearing the old country.

He holds her a bit closer as he sings back to her. Well now she’s back in her world, and I’m still stuck in mine. But I know I’ll always remember the time. Rudy takes her hand in his, spins her back until her spine is pressed against his front, arms wrapped snuggly around her as he sings in her ear, A cowboy once had a millionaire’s dream. And Lord I love that lady wearing tight fittin’ jeans.

Price and Alejandro are sitting next to each other, watching the two swaying to the end of the song, cheeks hot and giddy smiles on their faces like two teenagers in love. It hits the two square in their chests.

“This is why we fight, innit?” Price asks, sipping his beer and Alejandro nods, a pride in his chest as he watches his best friend falling deeper in love with the woman he’s always dreamed of having in his life.

“It is.”

[corvidco]

Ponk was always a very generous person, until she joined a little smp with her friends and was commissioned by Tommy Innit to make a prison. He took the job, why wouldn’t he? 64 diamond blocks is a lot. They never thought to question the boy’s intentions. Three months of hard work later, Lotus Penitentiary was born. After Tommy was thrown into the prison Ponk was left as the only one to run it, and run it he did, with the help of crimson vines that had infested the place. All seemed well from his perspective, he only abandoned his fiancée, pets, and friends for a job he never asked for. She had hardly even remembered her past life, why would he? He had no reason to leave!

MY EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN

[moondragon618]

Hey guys c!Dream butterfly chat propaganda except it's also c!Prime :)

First of all, I really like the idea of Chats being entirely amoral entities that are very much shaped and influenced by whoever they've attached themselves to. Some people have one and some don't- for the most part, it seems to be connected to having a very close connection to a deity or deities of some kind, like c!Techno with the Blood God and c!Phil with the Goddess of Death.

Now here's where c!Dream specifically comes in- I imagine his Chat would start to manifest soon after getting the revive book due to the connection to XD that it has. Of course, when ppl start to ask questions about the seemingly endless amount of butterflies that follow him around now, he just says it must be because of his connection to the Primes :)

This becomes a huge point of insecurity for c!Tommy btw- he doesn't have a Chat, even despite his strong devotion to the Primes and founding Church Prime alongside Dream. Surely if Dream's connection to the Primes could manifest a Chat but his can't, then he must have displeased the Primes somehow… But maybe Dream can help him with that during his exile, the same way he's helping him learn to behave and be better :)

However, despite the little pang of envy and guilt he feels when he sees them, Tommy loves the butterflies- even when Dream is gone, he still sees them around in Logstedshire from time to time, easily recognizable by their colorful stained glass-like wings and small smiley face markings, and it makes him feel a little less alone. And the butterflies love him too- he can hold out a hand and they'll come right to him, as if they're drawn to him. And when Dream is around, they flock to him, and sometimes he'll have more butterflies perched on him than the admin himself does.

"Aww, Tommy, they like you :)" Dream had said with a fond, amused chuckle the first time he noticed it.

"Of course they do, they can sense how awesome I am. They're like 'Oh Tommy Innit Tommy Innit you are so much cooler than Dream we want to stay with you forever' because I am simply the best," Tommy replies, getting a laugh out of Dream- he feels a warm glow of pride at that as Dream ruffles his hair affectionately, stirring up the butterflies that were sitting there for a moment before they return to their spots.

It's so colorful and lively when Dream is around, and so much more empty and lonely when he's gone.

Of course, it's not long before Tommy inevitably fucks up in some way and needs to be punished- and strangely enough, the butterflies don't seem to differentiate between bonding time and punishment. Even as Tommy trembles and pleads for mercy as he faces Dream's wrath, they still flock to him, staying clear of Nightmare's blade as though they know exactly where it's going to hit before it does.

Even as he lays in agony, blood seeping from multiple deep wounds, they stay with him, their bright colors a nice distraction. It's almost comforting, in a way. Some of them land around his wounds and the deep crimson stains all over him, and start drinking his blood. He didn't even know they did that until now.

Meanwhile, Dream can't help but take in the sight in front of him with a bit of reverence- his courageous little hero, his Tommy, reduced to a trembling, whimpering little mess, littered with new scars and bruises of varying shades, fresh bleeding wounds and deep crimson stains, and a bright, vibrant rainbow of butterflies over every inch, almost giving the impression of framing him in stained glass- it's almost beautiful, the perfect finishing touch for his little masterpiece :) :) :)

[dumpster-fire-sapphic-failgirl]

“Fer fucks sake, all that pain has to be good for something”

Crimson mirror is gonna have my whole fuckin heart, innit?

[shavri-ffxiv]

is the Crimson Courier epithet an in-character thing! is it something Shavri is known for/as, and if so where does it come from - ie. who came up with it etc!

It is! That's actually what she titled her courier business: The Crimson Courier.

Her friend Sven was the one who came up with that little nickname. I think I mentioned how Shav met Sven when she sneaked into his farm to spend time with the chocobos (not to mention taking one out for a joyride)? Well, as punishment for breaking and entering, Sven made her help him deliver some packages around the desert.

One day, a client asked him who the miqo'te girl was supposed to be. He slapped Shav on the back and "Why, she's the Crimson Courier, innit!" just sort of came out of his mouth. Probably because he often called her "Red" on account of her hair (to which Shav would always refute she was a brunette, haha).

Aaaaand that's it! It stuck!