#i love him and crimson so much

[tangledheadphonesxx]

little doodle of ennui from ridonculous race :3

[egophiliac]

Hello ! I positively adore the running joke of Idia unknowingly finding Lilia to be the coolest guy ever whenever he doesn't know it's him, like when Silver described his father, or obviously with muscle red. I can't say what'd be funnier, Idia finding out his online best friend is actually Lilia, resident spooky hyper fairy; or them both never finding out, and it'd become even more ridiculous as time goes on. How do you think it'll play out ? You're always so on point

(Also, though it makes sense, I'm still devastated bat boy didn't get a ticket for the Halloween skeleton train : ( does anyone mentions him at some point ? Like how he'd have fit right in with all those Halloween town little freaks, and how he'd have impressed them with his spooks and scared techniques; after all he's been every Briar Valley's children worst fear on Halloween for centuries. I'm on the eng server and I didn't wanna spoil myself by watching the whole thing on youtube)

Have a nice day !

you and me both, Idia and Lilia being oblivious online BFFs (+ Idia being incredibly intimidated any time Silver brings up his jock gamer dad) is my favorite running joke/subplot. 🤝 it's SO good, to the point where I also am unsure if I actually want it to ever be resolved or not...maybe, like, as a post-canon stinger or something? everyone's standing around covered in overblot ink, and Idia and Lilia's phones go off at the same time...

(legit I do think this is part of why Idia couldn't be present for Lilia's dream, because for some reason Lilia decided he was going to just. embody his past self online. he probably quotes his own battle strategies or whatever in the middle of boss fights. Idia didn't pick up on the whole "oh how weird that we both live on a super remote island" thing, but he would spend thirty seconds listening to General Lilia describing siege warfare and be like "w-wait")

all that aside, however it does end up happening, I do see Lilia being very blasé and all "oh! cool!" about it. y'know, taking it very much in stride! and Idia...very much not.

(can't tell if tumblr is going to chew this into illegibility or not, this will be a fun surprise ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

as for Lilia sadly missing out on Halloweentown shenanigans...he does get one little mention as part of an offhand reference to the light music club, but so far no one has brought up how this basically is just Lost In the Book of Liliatown (Sebek's been too busy yelling about not getting to be in the same group as Malleus). 😔 honestly though, it's probably for the best that he got left out, because he would just settle right in and refuse to ever leave. canon would shatter. we would miss out on all the delightful angst of episode 7 because Lilia is too busy eating poisonous shrubbery inbetween practicing his very best screams, and no one can pull him away from it.

(I can hope for a sequel next year though...)

[danaris112]

James "nervous beat-boxing" Potter

[crimescrimson]

Leon S. Kennedy in Resident Evil 6 (2012)

[sculptorofcrimson]

Yandere! Valdor

Valdor, the most loyal, the greatest of the Custodes, a Primarch in all but name. Who else can obsess more than him, whose every function besides loyalty was beaten out? A/N: Playing “fucked up obsessive twinks” on easy mode here, aren’t I? I’m sorry, SCP-XXXX who requested this, but you told me Valdor was a twink, and evil twinks are the best kind of men, so therefore this is your fault! Full throttle ahead, let us be damned together! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Relationships: Valdor/Gn!Reader, mentioned Valdor/Emperor Mentions: @kit-williams would you like some food?

Valdor does not love. 

The Custodes simply can not love. Their love perished beneath treachery and fire, ten thousand years ago, and they simply cannot piece the remnants that was a heart back together again. 

The Emperor took away their ability to love any but Himself, and what else could be left but a hollow void, an immortality without substances, a heart that beats while it lacks its other half? 

There was simply nothing left of him to spare when the Emperor had brought down his claws. His love, his joy, his dreams, all gone, wiped away like sand upon the sea. Leaving behind nothing more than a hollow without sustenance, a phantom vestige of a dream crushed long ago, its corpse entombed within perfected flesh and bone and blood. 

He loves no one, not even himself. When the Emperor died ten thousand years ago, he lost his way. He lost his tether to life itself. And for ten thousand years he wandered for the corpse of his master. There was a poem once, a poem so long ago about the loyal dog that stood guard before his master’s bones, who licked the once-petting hand once, and laid down to die. 

Valdor’s loyalty is no weaker than that dog’s.

He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves the Emperor. He loves Him, so brokenly, so obsessively, so utterly insane in his adoration, the First Custodian would have let Him tear him apart if He wished. 

He loved the Emperor. 

And that is why he loves you. He thinks you to be his Emperor. If not Him, then at least a shard.

He doesn’t care who you were, he doesn’t care whether you were once a captain, a Chapter Master, a Thunder Warrior even. He thinks you to be his master, back from the dead, one of His shards caught in life and flesh. 

He thinks you’re Him. Or, if not Him, at least a fragment of His former glory.

Valdor calls you his Emperor, his shard, his beloved, he ignores any name you had once in favor of calling you his master. A name is only a word, after all, and you are nothing but his Emperor reborn, in his mind. A guardsman, an Astarte, a Thunder Warrior, you are all mortal beneath his eyes. He only smiles that cold, humorless smile of his when you attempt to correct him, when he brushes off your words with the same cold, humorless disinterest. 

Valdor thinks you to be his Emperor. And he doesn't care that you were once someone else, you were not always his beloved, you were not the master he imagined, that you are not the master he built from memories and bones. 

You were nothing before his master, he reasons, you will be nothing after his master, and you were his Emperor once upon a time. It is doubtful if he can even know love, if he had not projected his own delusions of his Emperor upon another. Valdor failed Him once and only now the fates have judged him fit enough to protect a shard of Him, one that is so frail compared to himself, so unspeakably mortal, his atonement for the master he failed so long ago. 

He failed the Emperor once, and watched Him die. He will not do so again.

Protection. You will never walk free again, never without his cold presence by your side, that effortless, confident stride as he accompanies his master. You will never know the taste of sunlight, the easy voice of another conversationalist before their words taper off into uncertainty, and then fear, beneath the jealous glare of your bodyguard. How their sentences trail off, how Valdor looms like some ancient, murderous harpy, his shadow constantly overcasting yours.

He knows nothing of love, of human emotion. But he knows protection. And he knows obsession. 

Valdor is not a passionate man. But he is neither a cruel one either. Of course, Valdor will never raise a spear nor blade against his adoration, to strike his master would certainly mean death, but he will slaughter your loved ones without even horror. He will whisper litanies of loyalty on his knees while his Custodes sink in the knives. He will speak ironclad promises and gilded oaths when they label your soldiers traitors and slaughter them upon the snowfields, when they hail for unity, and hear the blade fall. 

He seems to like walks in wintery fields. It reminds him of what he lost long ago, when the Emperor took him atop Ararat, and he enacted His first vengeance upon the Thunder Warriors. He sometimes brings you there, to altitudes higher than even what a Space Marine can withstand, and gathers you beneath his cloak, whispering memories that were never truly yours, asking for your orders, asking for your forgiveness, asking if you can remember what it felt like ten thousand years ago.

(Sometimes, you can nearly believe him when he says you’re a shard. It’s flattering, almost, to be under the eye of the captain-general.)

He can kill. There is nothing left of him if he could not. Nothing but the Emperor’s spear, a sharpened tool meant to kill and to serve, and to be cast away when its function is complete. You have nothing to fear from him, of course, he would rather end himself than raise a blade against his master. But he loves no other. He does not know how to love. And that makes him dangerous. You know it when you gaze into his eyes, you are sure you could imagine him covered in the blood of your loved ones, guardian spear flashing as he hacks through them without even the shadow of hesitation. He will take no fear, no regret, no relief, barely even satisfaction in the grim act, and yet that is somehow more profane than joy in slaughter. Not even a single hint of joy, wild and unfettered in the sheer cruelty, not even a single hint of an ambition for why he would lay such altars of blood before his master’s feet, only simply because He wanted it to be so, and simply because he loved Him. 

In his eyes, you are his Emperor. But he does not always obey you. He does not kneel as he would’ve knelt before his master. Because he knows, Valdor knows that to protect Him, to serve Him properly, sometimes he must smother Him for His own good. It’s the twisted rationale of a dog who has lost his master, whose death had rocked him so thoroughly he was willing to kill to save Him again. 

Valdor kneels, of course. He’ll kneel before you and speak his words of loyalty, he’ll give you his names one by one if you only ask. Valdor has never considered himself eloquent with words, but he’ll listen to you, he’ll even let you command him as the Emperor would have done. Rank be damned, he cares not if his Emperor had been reborn as a guardsman or an Astartes or even a Thunder Warrior. 

But he does not hide his obsession. To obsess is the only way he knows to love, after all. He’ll smother his beloved with his protection, with his adoration. He’ll hack his way to be their only protector, their only bulwark before the madness, the only man they can trust to defend them. Gaze upon his Emperor once, he’ll tear them apart. Love the Emperor more than him, and he’ll bury their bones beneath the snowfields. 

And be loved by the Emperor more than him….and he’ll betray them as he had betrayed the Thunder Warriors. He’ll sink in golden knives and golden spears in turned backs without even the hint of remorse, Valdor will remind his beloved that it is he who is the servant, it is he who serves to be praised for his duty. Valdor can take you from your family as the Emperor took him from his, he’ll so effortlessly ensure the utter protection of his new Emperor, all for himself. 

No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 

It is he who should be the favored servant.

No one can love you more than I, my Emperor.

He’ll croon those litanies of loyalty to you. He’ll whisper those promises of protection, of ambition, he’ll promise you an eternity while standing atop the frozen ashes of your loved ones. He’ll promise you a throne if you don’t cry, if you’ll love him as his master did. He’ll bring you a crown of gold, he’ll strangle the living storm for you, if only you promise to let him protect you, if you promise if you’ll be his Emperor. 

You died once. I will not let you do so again, my Emperor.

And his obsession would never be checked, and much less ended by the true power behind the Imperium.

You are his Emperor. In that mind He broke so thoroughly long ago, you are the Emperor, reborn. Heavy is the head that bears the laurel, bloodied is the hand that holds this mad dog’s leash.

It is Valdor who should be the favored servant. 

No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 

He will protect you. 

He will protect you, obsess over you, guard you with the hollow that is a heart. He’ll bring you a throne, a crown, an army, an eternity, if only you promise, if only you’ll be his Emperor. 

The Emperor died ten thousand years ago. And in turn, he casted you in His corpse.

[hualianschild]

let's talk abt hua cheng and the way his entire *almost* existence relates back to xie lian cuz it's been my current roman empire, his name having the word 'hua' which means 'flower' can be seen as relating to xie lian's god name (the flower crowned martial god), also he's called crimson rain sought flower cuz he was shielding a lone white flower (also represents xie lian) from the blood rain (he can be the said 'flower' in that rain too actually), that red coral pearl on his hair braid ? it belongs to xie lian, that red string tied around his finger, xie lian tied strands of his hair around that finger which represents marriage and ofc the red-string-of-fate soulmate trope, he has xie lian's name tattooed on him in his terrible writing, made an entire city just so his love can come there and rest and build a temple there so he can worship him and remained his only devotee when xl lost everything (that thing abt gods being in existence as long as there is someone to worship them) he gave up on becoming a god cuz then who will be worshipping his god ?? isn't afraid to show his true form to xl which he never did to anyone, destroyed those thirty three gods cuz they ridiculed his gege, took lqq along with him to qi rong's den so he can clear the false accusations even if xl didn't want him to CUZ YOU WILL NAWT BE HATING HIS DIANXIA OVER THINGS HE NEVER DID i mean his entire existence is because xie lian said 'if you can't find any reason to live, make me your reason to live' and oh isn't that level of devotion and love so devastating ?

[froggyrocket]

i‘m reading crimson rivers atm and what the fuck is going on why was i hysterically laughing reading about sirius almost killing regulus last night what the fuck

[oddvanilla]

IF I SEE ONE (1️⃣) MORE KILLJOY RP ACC I MIGHT JOIN YOU GUYS AS WELL

[queenjulia11]

New reaction image dropped:

[helluvagraph]

HELLUVA BOSS S02 EP03  ∣  Crimson.

[froggo-tea]

The Xero post I’ve been waiting to do ft. Markoth and PK.

Crimson nails are basically two old ghost men who betrayed their own kin and are in love.

[randomfandombullshit]

Regulus: fuck. Mulciber has his sword to james' throat and I'm outnumbered with all the other death eaters around too! We're definitely gonna die. If only someone else were here to save us

Regulus:

Regulus: why do I hear Gangnam Style playing somewhere in the trees

[crimescrimson]

Leon S. Kennedy in Resident Evil 2 (2019)

[crimsonmonsoon]

Qi Rong is my favorite character rn and I fel bad for everyone who has to listen to me talk about him. I never really post my art her but since its fanart I figured why not.

I am so scared to post fanart anywhere because what if people don't like my interpretation of certain characters. Like this is how I imagine Qi Rong (with the outfit from the manhua tho) AND I FEEL LIKE SOMEONES GONNA COME AFTER ME FOR GIVING HIM A FAT ASS TOOTH GAP. I just really feel that he has really shitty teeth. You know this guy doesn't give a damn about dental care.

[stergeon]

at some point i will figure out how to write the post-canon, post-empire edelgard autonomy fic of my dreams. it just feels like a very big task and maybe like with playing the dane, i’m simply not old and traumatized enough to manage it yet.

but my vision is thus: it’s set years (realistically, decades) after the end of crimson flower, when everything has gone as right as it can possibly go. fódlan is thriving. the social reforms have taken effect. the nobility system is nearly eliminated, if not entirely so, with titles made merely symbolic. social mobility, welfare, and prosperity are high. there’s an explosion in arts and culture and technology. brigid and duscur have gained independence; relations with sreng and almyra are much improved; heck, maybe they've even figured it out with dagda. in my most idealistic version, leicester and faerghus would eventually be ceded back to become autonomous regions, essentially disbanding the adrestian empire. rule is no longer hereditary, but merit-based. there's a roadmap for the future, and everything is on track—and more than that, people at all points on the power spectrum have already seen it bear fruit. with or without edelgard, it will be pursued. there's buy-in. they believe.

of course, it's not perfect—nothing can be—but edelgard's vision has been fulfilled. the people are empowered. humanity is free. fódlan has healed.

and somehow, she's had enough time to resolve her goals outside of politics, too. those who slither in the dark have been eradicated. edelgard and lysithea's second crests have been successfully removed, allowing them to live if not full lives, then substantially longer ones than they would have with their twin crests intact. who knows—maybe she finally gets around to having that wedding.

point for point, every item listed in edelgard's manifesto has been checked off. the ghosts of her past have been laid to rest. she can finally take off her crown. she can finally pursue the quiet, humble life she's wanted for so long. she can finally breathe.

... but can she?

edelgard is nothing if not driven. her intelligence, vision, and sheer willpower allowed her to plan and execute a revolution against two countries and the most powerful institution on the continent, all while she was still a teenager. as royalty, her life was never truly hers even before she became heir to the adrestian throne, with all the additional baggage of survivor's guilt and the desire for vengeance and her need to ensure nothing that happened to her can ever happen to anyone else, ever again.

so what happens when that drive has no outlet? what happens when someone who has been constantly in motion, constantly working and planning and preparing every spare second of every day since she was fourteen years old, suddenly has to stand still? what happens when someone whose hands have been bound for so long—first literally in the dungeons of enbarr, then by the weight and responsibilities of her crown—is set free?

being edelgard, she would step away from the throne, no matter how hard it was for her to give up control. she's always been focused on the endgame, and she knows that if she doesn't let go, she'll be setting the wrong tone for fódlan's future. she's too devoted to that endgame to cling to power much longer than she needs to, though i could see her making some excuses and trying to iron out just a few more things to buy herself some more time to mentally prepare before she's done for good.

but who would she be then? who is the woman without the crown? what becomes of a machine once it is no longer needed, when it has made itself obsolete? what about when that machine is a person with legs and arms and an innate unwillingness to gather dust on a shelf?

what happens when you get everything you want? what happens when all your wanting has been for others to thrive, and now you have to want only for yourself? how do you discover who you are when you've spent decades being everything for everyone else? how do you find meaning again? how do you find purpose?

after a lifetime of devotion and passion and movement, how do you learn to sit with yourself, and be quiet, and be still?

gosh, i would love to meet her. i would love to pick her brain. but boy, i do not envy the work that girl has to do.

[broadwaycantdie]

i fear james potter is the greatest man to ever exist and he’s not even real 😔