#nasty suicide moodboard

[sultryana]

꒰ა 𝐿𝒶𝓎 𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓁𝓈 ໒꒱

✟

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Day 14:  Nasty S(u)icide intersex pride

Disclaimer : This is just for fun, most of the moodboards have been chosen randomly. I don’t intend to force any sexuality/ gender on anyone neither I want to speculate or offend. Take it as it is : a fun way to celebrate pride <3  

[ccwpidsblog]

hi bb we're literally on the phone rn but im thinking about reader and how disappointed she'd be when her and the guys get to the base in London 😔

where are the trees? and the caves? where are the wandering tourists she can feast on? she's been happily eating exotic fruits on her island in brazil for decades and now shes forced to help these big nasty mortal brutes on their suicide missions. omg she's so so upset with her situation and hates that shes a woman of her word.

and to make it worse?? price won't even let her eat the new recruits or the men they hold hostage :((( not even a nibble. he's such a mean old man :(( like hows a girl supposed to get some nutrients around here? it's okay she might just eat johnny one day :)

i also made a moodboard?? for xoana cus she's one of my favorite ocs you've made. love you byeee

omg guys i have the best partner everrrr 🥹🥹

read wild woman for context

she is highly disappointed with the living conditions of the base. its smelly, loud, and unfortunately littered with men who are very interested in 141s newest member. thankfully the reader has very weird and off putting energy in like a sexy way ofc that causes them not to approach and those that do are quickly sent away with their tail between their legs when her eyes slit and she snarls at them like a caged animal. which price or kyle quickly show their disappointment in her behavior leaving her huffy. johnny and simon will it wholeheartedly encourage it though.

i can just imagine ghost taking her by the back of the neck like a scolded kitten when he catches her luring in a new recruit. just as shes about to take a bite he swooping in "we told you no eating." carrying her away while she snarls and curses.

on the topic of food she's not impressed by it but she does get free rain missions, killing as many as she can and making their jobs easier and she does get hostages sometimes. only the ones that choose to be extra difficult.

and poor johnny he knows no peace with her around but he doesn't wanna be saved.

[dayfaresthenight]

Jackie's Bio!!!

(TWs for disassociation, Substance abuse, suicide, and allusions, but no explicit mentions of NSFW topics.) Blue is Jackie, Black is Me.)

Name: Jackie!!!

Alt Names: Moriarty!!! (Aculia)

Special Titles: The Grand Archmage, The Mage In The Tower, the Woman behind the curtain, the heroine of Archalia!

Username: JackieMoriarty111

Nicknames: Jack, "That bitch.".

Chronological Age: 18 Physically. Timeloops have distorted her mind, lost track of the plot a whiles ago.

Age: 20 (I stopped aging when I finished the story!)

Pronouns: Any/All, IDC honestly!!! Lean more feminine though.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Gender: Cisgender

Species: 100% Human!~

Disorders: None!!! (Bipolar Depression, C-PTSD, Generalized Anxiety, Impostor Syndrome, Pathological Lying, Hypersexuality)

Physical Disabilities: None!!! (Underweight, Chronic Pain in Right Arm, Poor Vision)

Active Addictions: I dunno! I'm willing to try about anything, but I wouldn't call myself addicted to it. (She gets addicted very easily.)

Religion: God is just a fancy word for "OP."

Job: Scholar, Mage Tutor, Super Evil World destoryer

Major: Arcane Studies! (Never got to finish it.)

Lives in: My cool tower!!!

Languages: English, Angelic, Demonic, Feyish, uuuuuuh, a few ciphers… know I'm forgetting something… Oh yes, French!

Height: 5'2

Regular: Caucasian Human

Accent: Like one of those really loud annoying anime dub girl voices!!! (A somewhat soft English accent, when she isn't faking it.)

Powers: Astral Projection, Time Manipulation, Puppetering, Elemental Magic, Character Creation, Illusions, Alchemy… A few other things too, but why would I tell everything to you?

Weaknesses: None!!! I'm too strong!!! (Her old memories, warding seals, emotionally stable people.)

Weapons: None! (Because she stinks at physical combat.) (NO, I DON'T!!!!)

Wands: Uhhh, which do you need? I have a lot of them.

Alignment: Chaotic Good (formerly Lawful Good.)

Text Color: BLUE!!!

Main Hobbies: I like learning about new magic, long walks on the beach, puppeteering, traveling to new worlds, and alchemy! Sometimes I'll even dress up as NPCs in worlds and pretend to be a regular person.

Favorite Food: Donuts!

Favorite Flower: Roses (…)

Scent: Smells like Grapes! And maybe a little bit of Ash too…

Handedness: Right!

Blood Color: Red! Duuuh.

Awareness: VERY AWARE!!! AND ITS VERY VERY VERY POSITIVE ON ME!!! (Effect: Very Negative.)

Birthday: JUNE 21ST! Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: People make up all kinds of lies about me all the time; don't listen to them. (Refuses to acknowledge anything past a certain point in her life.)

Special Interests: Magic, Chess, High Fantasy, Writing

Stims: jumping up in the air, screaming, twisting

Stimboard: Maaaaybe

Moodboard: ^

Fashion Board: ^ Comfort Objects: None! (Her Favorite Staff: Aculia.)

Family: Doesn't matter!!! They are all long gone anyway.

Friends: Doesn't matter!!!!

Romance: Idk if she'd put it in the same catagory, but Are Yoru and I get along a lot!!!

Enemies: I think about 50% of the universe are my enemies right now. I dunno how I'm not dead yet, honestly.

Brief Personality: OH!!! IM SUPER FUN TO BE AROUND!!! That's literally all you need to know!!!

Jack is a very emotionally unstable person. Most of the time, they act extremely chipper, happy, and "Extra," putting on an over-exaggerated persona. However, the moment things don't go their way, they can snap on a twig—turning into a rather nasty and unstable individual.)

Jack is extremely manipulative, and almost everything they say tends to be a lie or an attempt to further some kind of agenda. (Treat every single one of their words like it's prime cut Grade-A bullshit.)

Jack is an extremely lonely person as a result, as much as they try to deny it. There is a deep void in them that they are trying to fill with anything they can possibly think of, often leading to them burning any and all bridges they can make.

(Some part of her wishes someone would just finally snap and get rid of the problem.)

Brief Backstory:

Nope!

Aculia comes from a storybook called "Tales of Archalia," written by a man named Daniel Crane. It was a tale as old as time—The Evil Witch Jackelyn had captured the rulers of the world, planning on destroying it. She had to go through many different twists and challenges. Blah blah blah, you know the story by now.

With her and her three friends, she had ventured to the top of the tower and done it. They had bested the witch; they had saved the day! And so everyone lived happily forever after…

But, over time, Aculia began to become… bothered. She noticed things didn't change any more. The same people with the same routines, the same dialogue, and even the same patterns every day.

It started off small. Her being less polite to people or ignoring her party members coming to visit. This caused a change. Almost as if the world itself was forced to, people began to act differently. The pre-set patterns they had gone under altered. Finally, after weeks, something new…!

That was the key. She just had to try different things, and everything would be peachy! They'd get back to their grand old adventures, and she would stop being so… bored.

What turned into a few small stunts here or there quickly turned into bad habits—using Alchemy to create hard substances, indulging in the unspoken pleasures of life, and whatnot, and so forth. This sudden change in personality deeply worried her friends, who attempted to comfort her.

For some reason though, their words rang more… hollow than usual, though. She couldn't quite put why, but something just didn't feel right about this place anymore. It felt too happy, too colorful—too cheerful. So... Fake...?

...

"Aculia, look—I know you don't want to talk right now, but… we were really worried about you. #u*#$ Said he found you passed out at the tavern the other day."

"Yeah!!! I don't know what's gotten into you recently, but knock it off. Your really freaking us out!!!"

"If something is troubling your heart, please tell us. We are always here for you."

"Please… were really… really scared… talk to us… please talk to us."

"I said I don't want to talk."

"Aculia, please-"

She-

"I SAID, I DON'T WANT TO TALK!!!"

…I ran away after that. My mind was in such a haze that I didn't know what to do. I hadn't known what to do for months now. It was just always the same until I did something bad, then it would change again.

I stumbled towards the old tower and began to walk around it. It was empty, empty as always. All that remained was the witch's old staff. I picked it up and examined it…

A scroll compartment??? I wonder what she kept in it.

i- no- i- this has to be a lie. but, its- how would she know that info about me- why is it all just there... nonono please

please

she couldn't of been- no she couldn't of been telling the truth

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! I REFUSE I REFUSE I RE-

That's when I realized. No wonder it all felt fake. Because it was fake! Everything around me was always fake. It was just someone's writing, and that person had left me to rot at a dead end. No actual conclusion or anything; nothing for me to go forward to. Just… THE END! He left me to ROT!!!!

Well, you thought I was going to take that one lying down? Nope! Nope, NOPE! I didn't! I broke out of that prison, and all it cost me was everyone I ever cared about. A small price to pay. That witch was right in the end; I did need to destroy the world to be free!

And when I finally got out, I discovered something incredible!!! So many worlds, so many people to help liberate. So many are doomed to their fixed fates in the narrative. I knew that I could help them—if I just took the strings and pulled them in their favor, things would change!

As long as I keep on trying to make things change, one day I'll feel happy! I mean, I'm already happy, but one day, I'll

I'll- YEAH! Anyways, eventually, I found the guy who had left me to rot. I gave him a book that let him see the truth, and then proceeded to trap him in it. He thinks he's free, but I'm the one in control for once!

Thats right, I won! I have all the cards in my hands! ME! I am the one on the stage! I'm not lonely! I'm happy! I'm GREAT! I'm fantastic! I'm-

I-

Why do I still feel so empty…?

And so she drifts throughout the universe, searching for more people to "free." But in the end, is freedom really worth it when there is nothing to enjoy?

I suppose that is a question for you to ask yourself, dear reader.

[the-sixxth-sinner]

Alexi's Art & Fics masterpost

AO3

Ko-Fi

Mötley Crüe

Art

demon!Nikki (based on @arnold-layne 's fic "Ex Malo Bonum")

Christmas comic

Vince (based on @tattooed-lies 's fic "Add it up")

Nikki as a Caravaggio painting

A very cool portrait of Nikki made with water and salt

Tommy sketches

Vince sketches

"God Bless the children of the Beast" pt. 1 (demon!Terror Twins portraits)

God Bless the children of the Beast pt. 2 (demon!Vince & Mick portraits)

Old ass Nikki portrait

Old ass Crüe fanart

Baby boy. Baby (Nikki w a dog collar sketch)

Tommy portrait (inking and shadows practice)

Run. (Tommy piece based on this fanfic on AO3)

City Boy Blues

Mötley taröts

stripper!Vince

Birthday moodboards

Vince

Mick

Tommy

Nikki

Fics

Terminus (See you in Hell) cover art playlist (Nikki's last moments before taking the extreme step. tw for suicide and drug abuse)

Mask of Sanity (inspired by American Psycho. Nikki has a bad trip and uh... shit happens. tw for sex, drugs & violence)

Rebel Rouser (Nikki Sixx x fem!reader. set in the 70s, reader has a crush on frankie and they skip school together. tw for underage sex)

To: my future self (Nikki writes a letter to his future self. tw for depression)

Sumthin' for Nuthin' (a series where i took the concept of gigolo!Nikki and ran with it)

Ep. 1 (Vinikki) (tw for homophobia and smut)

Ep. 2 (tw for smut and light bdsm)

Ep. 3 (tw for smut (who wouldve guessed) and public sex among other nasty stuff)

The Dogs d'Amour

Art

Tyla sketches

Tyla in his own art style

How come it never rains?

Tyla portrait

Jo Dog

Bam Bam

Planetary Pied Piper

Pourin' Out My Heart

Digital remakes of two of my faves

My Chemical Romance

Art

All Hail the Rat King (Gerard)

Gerard short shorts sketches.jpg

Gerard clown outfit sketch.jpg

Sailor Senshi Gerard!!

You Must Fix Your Heart (tattoo flashes)

Can You Stake My Heart? (vampire!Gerard sketch)

Frank Iero nosebleed.jpg

American Gothic (Gee+Frank)

St. Gerard d'Arc

Our Lady of Sorrows (Gee as the Virgin Mary)

❗Party Poison

Bonus:

I hope I die before they save my soul (Frank fanart)

Edits

The Foundations of Decay (tw religion)

Cringe is Dead and I Killed Her (glittery edits of Gerard, Frank & Ray)

Other

Art

Angels don't Kill (Children of Bodom)

Raw Meat = Blood Drool (The Editors)

Lani Sparks as St. Sebastian (requested by @psychicequalizer )

In loving memory (Chris Cornell)

Maya the Psychic

Moodboards

LA PAURA DEL BUIO (Måneskin)

[ylove-bandaesthetics]

Bands & Decades! 🕰

Nasty Suicide + 80s! ✨

Travel Through Time!

[whisperess33]

Moodboard Ask #14

Hiiii @thespacecowboyyy here's your Nasty Suicide moodboard, with an ocean/modern!Poseidon theme ��😘

Hope you like it 😄

As usual, if you like this moodboard and want me to make one just for you, don't hesitate, my askbox is open ❤🤘

[fan-with-issues]

@thespacecowboyyy Christmas Hanoi Rocks Moodboard~

[prolix-yuy]

hi hi lj! congrats again on your follower count 💖🎊 for your celebration i'd love to see you write ezra x reader with the theme of immortality 👀👀👀👀

Lissie my love! Thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine on this site, and for all of your wonderful encouragement. This one got very introspective, but also allowed me to explore Ezra's voice in another unique way.

In Print

Pairing: Ezra & GN!Reader, no specific pairing

Summary: A book found on the Green tells you a story of a man fighting for his life.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: T, angst, mentions of contemplating suicide, a tiny little bit of flirting if you squint. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: What better way to be immortalized than in writing? I think Ezra would agree. There isn't a true pairing, but I've written this with a F!Reader perspective.

It's funny, just as I'm posting this today another layer of meaning came to light, and it really resonated with me. So to all of my lovelies - the things you do matter. The journeys you go on, and the things that make you happy all matter. Even if you fail, or things change, that doesn't lessen their importance. Thank you for coming on this journey with me.

Edit: my beloved @beecastle shared this absolutely stunning moodboard for this story, and I need everyone to see it and send her love for being amazing.

The books are almost unrecognizable, a thick layer of dust covering the red and black covers. You plucked them from the soft folds of the rotting bed, turning one, then the other over in your hands as silt poured from thin leaves. Opening to the first page of the red one, you’re met with scrawling letters, not typed.

“Time to head back,” your colleague says as he pokes his head past the sagging tent frame. You nod and slip the books into hazmat bags, sealing them for decontamination. “Anything useful?” he asks as you tuck them away.

“Maybe some diaries. Could give insight, but not much else,” you say, lifting from your knees and dusting off. 

“Silky,” he replies, hitching his pack further up on his shoulder. “Let’s head back for decon. I don’t like this nasty on me, even if we are sealed.” You nod and follow, the infamous dust that plagues the Green floating by your ankles with each step. A deadly planet now stripped of its riches. Prospectors had made the dangerous journey for years, but since ships stopped coming out this way it had been quiet. That is, until word of the Queen’s Lair perked the ears of mining companies and a few quiet trips strip-mined the planet of any remaining aurelac. 

Your party was not of that same mind. The Green has many fascinating properties, the greatest being the creation of aurelac, but the second being the dust that fills the atmosphere. You’d seen something similar - another spore-based aerial pathogen on Rekun - be used to administer widespread antivirals. Your proposal to the university - an expedition to study the dust - was swept under more lucrative applications. So instead, you took the last of your grant money and shopped for safe passage for you and a small crew.

Not many ships were keen to return to the Green, far out of their way now that the aurelac trade was depleted. It was a lucky break, a letter that captured the attention of a wealthy benefactor with a mysterious fortune, that finally gave you a chance. A single trip, leaving shockingly soon, with enough seats and cargo space for your group of five. A single request attached: the benefactor did not wish to be involved, or mentioned in your research. Their original trip was meant to be done quietly. Your presence would now act as a cover, and you were not one to argue with the fortune being bestowed.

There was a small crew to greet you, and as you expected, no sign of your savior. Instead you were tasked with a long journey in tight quarters, the two crews amicable but mostly keeping to themselves. Your mind was preoccupied with the steps you now took, the possibilities that your studies might bring.

Taking wide strides across the mossy landscape, the book beats a quiet song against your thigh.

It isn’t until late in the evening that you get a chance to peruse the books. Semi-porous materials like leather and paper take extra care for cleaning, and you had to decontaminate each individual page before you could bring it into your small tent. Starting with the red-covered one, you caught words and loops of the pen as you carefully cleaned and irradiated each leaf. Finally, you held a handful of pages. The cover wasn’t salvageable.

Mornings came early and brutal on the Green, and you rarely stayed up late, but tonight you save a half hour to peruse the first entry. Leaning back in your desk chair, you hold the pages between gloved hands.

“Writing was never my strong suit. I prefer the company of words from other minds than my own. But I’ll admit that my time on the Green has become lonesome, and the words that once imparted comfort have become dull and irksome. So I am driven to create new prose of my own, if only to occupy my mind in the quiet moments between harvesting and sleep. 

It has been three weeks since my crew abandoned me to my fate.”

Your lips part, reading through the account of a disagreement, deadly in its outcome, and the writer’s exile as his crew left him to die on the uninhabitable planet. There is certainly some omission and hyperbole; you can’t imagine that a simple disagreement would cause metal to fly so carelessly. The narrator may be your only glimpse in, but you’ve always had a keen eye for analyzing texts. You can spot a lie sprawled in ink.

“Now I must travel, a spiral of despair from my camp as I search for other prospectors to come to my aid. I may be in luck soon enough. A brute of a suit lumbered just past my reach, and should I come across him again tomorrow we shall forge an alliance. My filter is close to the end, and while I have not fallen ill yet I can feel the deep wheeze of a cough at the bottom of my lungs. If nothing more, I may be offered the element of surprise and a filter of my own.”

The entry ends there, a cool blade dragging down your spine. A glimpse into the Green indeed. This writer knew how to survive on the planet, by any means possible.

The next night you indulge in another entry, and another the following eve. Your days are long and arduous, collecting samples and testing them in the medical tent. Work proves fruitless so far, the dust only existing as a pathogen deadly to the human form. A protection for this planet. The nights, however, are spent with a man you only know through his own view.

“I dare say, Number 2 might be the most pleasant partner I have had in ages. Doesn’t talk much, but then again I have always been told I am the loquacious one. And he has not tried to slaughter me in my sleep yet, so I would call this a success.”

“One deposit found. Another small harvest. Enough to get me off this Kevva-damned planet should I ever find a ship to take me.”

The despair starts to creep in after a week of entries.

“Caught a whisper of a transmission from a sling freighter. There’s only one more ship coming this way. Narrow window. Then nothing more.”

That’s the entire entry, and you have to flip to the next page for a continuation.

“I watch the sky for my salvation.”

The entries get longer and more introspective.

“I’m glad my brother is not here to witness my descent into despair. Not that he would have kind words or gentle reassurances. I do not believe he would hold out the same as I. But to have a friend at the end would be a kindness. I wish I could explain what drives me to stand every day as the freighter draws nearer. If I had any sense I would put a bolt in my brain and end my suffering. But something pulls at me to remain. I do not know what.”

“Number 2 has still said nothing. Does he understand the grave we both stand in? I asked if he had a ship and by the slap of his two hands together I came to understand that he was no better off than I. The window is closing, a steady squeak of hinges until I can no longer guess at my fate. My tiniest hope is for one last fool to come this way searching for glory. May he be plodding and unobservant. Weak. May he go quietly. I will use my teeth if need be. I will not die on this Kevva-forsaken planet.”

You stop watching the clock most evenings, finishing your work as quickly as possible to take more time with the diary. The mission is turning on you, annoyances at each other and the lack of anything useful making tempers short. Someone on your benefactor’s crew suggests selling the dust as a bioweapon. Your colleague splits the man’s lip with barely-contained rage. His wife died from the inside out in the Terran wars. The rustle of your pages was all you could hear for the remainder of the night.

Your window is also closing, solar storms making the timeline more condensed than you hoped. There is no word if the mission your benefactor is on is progressing. You’ve seen him a handful of times, walking alone from the shuttle into the Green.

“He doesn’t take security?” you ask one of his crew, who spend most days playing cards and patrolling for threats. The split-lip one shakes his head.

“Says it’s a mission only he can complete.”

Your nights have become more restless, despair for the writer growing until a few pages are left in your hand. The next entry is penned in messier script. 

“My salvation has finally arrived. I do not know which prayer it’s answering, but a lone ship landed in the early hours. I’ve woken Number 2 and we’re making our way to intercept its crew. With any luck we can talk our way on. If not, we will take it.

Kevva protect me and absolve me of what I must do.”

A burst of elation takes over your chest, putting down the pages and clasping your hands over your mouth. Suddenly you’re crying, tears snaking from the corners of your eyes into your hairline as you stifle sobs. Was it the parallels of your own entrapment, or the glimmer of hope when your research had none? It makes you turn to the next entry quickly, pulling in a cathartic breath.

There is only one line, scrawled messily as if a child had written it.

“The Green took my arm.”

You stare at the page, all warmth draining out of you like a squeezed-out sponge. You read it again, and again, try to comprehend it but it’s deadly simple. The Green took his arm, and doomed him. All this planet does is take.

Stumbling out of your tent into cloying blackness you begin to walk. You’d numbly donned your suit, barely registering the procedure you knew well enough to dream. With every bump and hitch of the ground your weight pulls deeper, as if gravity can sense all you want is to be swallowed up. 

The futility of it all feels thick in your lungs. What’s the point? What are you doing on this planet? What discovery do you hope to uncover that no one else unearthed decades before? The one precious resource gone, the dust an unthinking asphyxiation. What hubris you have, to think you could be one of the lucky to bring hope back from this planet?

Your helmet turned down, you collide with a figure, also apparently on a walk of his own. You exchange apologies, meaning to keep walking when he speaks.

“Another lonely traveler of the night. Mind keeping me company for a little while?” he asks, and the weight in his voice matches your own. The benefactor, on another of his odd walkabouts. You recognize the suit, older than the rest of the crew but well maintained.

Pleasantries and decorum should be maintained - after all, his generosity is what allowed you to come on this fool’s errand - but your tongue is leaden in your mouth. Instead you nod, following him as he weaves through the trees to a cliff face not far from the campsite. Your thighs burn at the climb, but once at the top you view the inky vista of hills, slight shades of black and gray delineating the horizon. If you keep turning your head you can almost believe the hills and the sky are one, stretching around you like the center of an onyx marble. A little of the weight lifts.

“Couldn’t sleep,” your benefactor says, his voice a hoarse whisper. There’s divinity in the dark.

“What troubles you?” you ask, his form melting forward from the darkness. His helmet is a firefly, one small speck that highlights the lines around his brow and mouth.

“Same thing troubling you, I imagine. If this is all for nothing.” You nod and hum, toeing the decaying underbrush. Fighting for the words you want to speak, he beats you to it.

“It’s not. There’s value in discovery, even if all we discover is nothing. There is never a true absence when we fail. We learn that we were wrong. Or almost wrong. But we learn.” You shake your head tiredly.

“There’s nothing here. All that work, all that money and we’re coming back empty-handed. My research will lose its funding, most of the crew will have to go back to worse jobs. Failure isn’t free.” Your benefactor nods, crouching down to run his fingers through the bobble-headed ferns by his feet.

“You are right. Failure certainly isn’t free. But we take risks for the privilege of traveling across the stars. We are a curious race, and our payment for our roaming ways is to better the universe as we pass through. I’ve not always been the best man to do that, but in recent years it’s become a mission I’m more than happy to assume. So don’t fret about the cost, or the research, or what may come of this. It was meant to fulfill a promise to a dear one, and I’ve done that now. And you were meant to fulfill your own promise, even if only to admit defeat. No one could do it but you.”

His words sink into your bones, allowing for a gentler weight to ground you. It’s not what you hoped for, but it’s what you’ll get. You can learn to live with that.

The walk back to camp is quiet, your twin gaits rustling through the Green. As the camp comes into view, twinkles of light in a perfect line, you realize how little you desire to be alone.

“Have a drink with me?” you ask, the words tumbling out before the impropriety flashes across your face. Your benefactor cocks his eyebrow, dare you say rakishly, with a smile.

“Lead the way,” is his subdued reply. Entering your tent, you both begin the intimate process of shucking off your suits. You always run hot under them, wearing little more than a light thermal and leggings to keep your skin off the suit’s coarse interior. Fixing two short glasses of whiskey - meant for celebration, but now will do -  you move to your cot, the final page of the diary placed face-down on the mattress. Sitting beside it, your fingers worry at the edge of the leaf. What more is there to tell? A letter to a loved one saying goodbye? A final will and testament? You flip the page, unfamiliar feminine handwriting an unexpected discovery.

“By Kevva’s name,” your benefactor says, and when you look up he’s tracing his finger along the pages piled on your desk. In the weak light of your tent his skin glows, the lamp catching a shock of blond by his temple. His eyes roam the page, brow furrowed and mouth downturned. 

“What?” you ask, before your mouth dries out. 

His arm.

You’d only seen him in his suit. It looked normal enough. But now stripped before you, sleeve rolled up to his elbow, you can compare the difference between skin and synthetics. His prosthetic fingers, as dexterous as his birth-give ones, lift a few pages closer to the light. The downturn of his mouth parts, the wrinkle between his brows smoothing out. 

“I do believe you found my journal,” he says, turning to look at your face. He gives you an awed half-smile. “I thought it would have rotted away by now. But here you’ve kept it like a little gem of your own.”

All you can muster is a shaky breath, parted lips, stillness. He looks back at your desk and his whole face lightens, lifting the second book into his grasp. With the wrinkles smoothing out, replaced by a smile that wars with headier emotions in your chest, he laughs.

“And you found hers. My daughter Cee’s.” He smooths his hand over the plastic-wrapped cover. “She never stopped talking about it, not even when I enrolled her in a school just like the one she lectured me about. I had to endeavor to find her stories.” He finally looks up, and his mission accomplished before your eyes, your hand in it unwitting, washes you with emotion. You can’t help the welling in your throat, the cut-off wail that tries to escape.

“You survived,” you croak, standing up and moving towards him. His face flashes concern before he steps to meet you and pulls you into his chest. The overwhelming scent of sweat and plastic fills your nostrils, but you swear underneath is stardust. 

“Oh, my dear, you’ve been suffering through my story all by your lonesome?” he asks, and you nod into his chest. He tugs you back, cupping your cheek with a knowing smile. 

“We always persevere.”

My name is Cee. The man who wrote this journal is Ezra. We are trying to leave the Green, but my ship was damaged upon landing. Tomorrow we set out to meet with mercenaries at the Queen’s Lair, and if what my father said was true, we will leave rich enough to never have to step foot on this planet, or any other mine, again.

I’m writing this to let you know that we are going to make it. Don’t tell me how I know, but I do. The odds have been against us, and still are. Ezra without his right arm will cause problems, but I can harvest, and I’m not letting us die on this planet. 

I should be more afraid of him. He killed my father after all. But what he lacks in civility, or the ability to shut up, he makes up for in a dedication I’ve never seen before. He’s kind with me, in a way my father never was. I’m not sure what he wants, or what he’s hoping for in our partnership, but I am at least grateful for his protection.

Tomorrow is the last day we can make the freighter before it flies too far out of orbit. If we do not leave rich we will at least leave. He asked me if I’m a killer and I think I may have it in me to save myself from this world. 

To whoever reads this, I want you to know that we make it. It’s not like you’ll be able to find out. So believe that we make it. If we are to only be immortalized by these words on a page, let us be successful, safe, and happy. Remember us as survivors. 

We make it.

END

[ao3feed-danganronpa]

All For Requests & Requests For All!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Eb8CMdW

by Sapphic_Assassin

Leave any and all requests for Oneshots, Imagines, Chapter Fanfics, Series, moodboards, etc. Here!

have fun and be safe! :D

don't be requesting nasty stuffs! >:C

Words: 274, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of All For Requests & Requests For All!

Fandoms: League of Legends, Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (2003), Loki (TV 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (Movies 2016 2021), Haikyuu!!, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Minecraft (Video Game), DreamSMP, Monster High, Ever After High, Rainbow High (Web Series), Scooby-Doo! (Live Action Movies), What's New Scooby-Doo? (Cartoon), Supernatural (TV 2005), Teen Titans (Animated Series), 殺戮の天使 | Satsuriku no Tenshi | Angels of Death (Anime), 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game), Gravity Falls, Five Nights at Freddy's, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Overwatch (Video Game), Encanto (2021), Jennifer's Body (2009), Adventure Time, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia, Super Mario Bros. (Video Games), Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019), Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Hocus Pocus (1993), Kim Possible (Cartoon), Danganronpa, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime), Lore Olympus, Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi

Characters: too many characters to write so ill list off the ones I write for in the chapter!

Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kate Bishop/Reader, Yelena Belova/Reader, Loki/Reader, Ahri/Kai'Sa (League of Legends), Ahri/Evelynn (League of Legends), Ahri/Akali (League of Legends), Akali/Evelynn (League of Legends), Akali/Kai'Sa (League of Legends), Evelynn/Kai'Sa (League of Legends), Ahri/Seraphine (League of Legends), Kai'Sa/Seraphine (League of Legends), Akali/Seraphine (League of Legends), Evelynn/Seraphine (League of Legends), Rell/Seraphine (League of Legends), Gwen/Seraphine (League of Legends), Supernatural/Reader, Dreamsmp/reader, Haikyuu/Reader

Additional Tags: general LGBTQ+ Stuff, Fluff, Spicy, Lemon(?), x reader stuff, most likely not beta read, so prepare for spelling and grammar erros, sorry besties, ill try to write good though, trying to avoid using "Y/N" as much as humanly possible, we do accept Y/N slander in this house, Crack, Crack Taken Seriously, multiple character deaths(?), not good at writing male/male but ill try my best, writing fanfics instead of doing schoolwork, fanfics are more important than college/j

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Eb8CMdW

[thespacecowboyyy]

Great one!!

a multicolored hanoi rocks moodboard

@major-tom-is-a-junky @thespacecowboyyy

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Hanoi Rocks Asexual Pride Moodboard

[guiltyfandomtrashwonderland]

Event: GaaSaku Spring Break Kink Break 2020

A casual event for you to participate in! Based off of an event of the same name taking place on a GaaSaku discord I’m in.

If you wish to participate, please follow the rules below the cut.

Spring Break More Like Kink Break Amirite 2020 [joke about April showers] 

Day 1: praise kink Day 2: roleplay Day 3: windows/mirrors Day 4: guilt Day 5: blindfold Day 6: food Day 7: oral Day 8: teasing Day 9: dom/sub Day 10: bondage Day 11: seduction Day 12: lap dance/strip tease Day 13: hand holding...but nasty?? Day 14: sleepy/morning sex Day 15: angry/hate/ex sex Day 16: dirty talk Day 17: aftercare Day 18: shower/bath Day 19: roleplay Day 20: masturbation Day 21: dream Day 22: first time Day 23: 3-way/group sex Day 24: voyeurism Day 25: cuckolding Day 26: orgasm control Day 27: sensation play Day 28: money shot Day 29: public Day 30: build-a-bear (u choose the scare!) Day 32: yiffing/omegaverse

Embedded Alternate Challenge [remix horn]: The Week of Wholesomeness Day 15: getting happy because they saw the other person happy Day 16: tilting partner’s chin up and saying romantical shit Day 17: getting cozy under electric blanket Day 18: compromising on a difference in a healthy manner Day 19: having clothes-on discussion about sexual desires and fetishes and boundaries Day 20: realizing one is not responsible for the happiness of one’s partner but finding joy in making them happy regardless Day 21: jumping in puddles together on a rainy day Extra Moist Challenge: During week of wholesomeness, double up on the nasty and wholesome prompt for the same day. Fill prompt in a way that is at once wholesome and nasty. (Have fun with Day 15)

Below are the rules. Lifted ideas/wording from the MadaSaku challenge.

LOS RULES POSTING

Spring Break Kink Break will endure, much like the wild shinobi, for the entire month of April. Posting begins when April 1st is a date somewhere and ends when April 30th is not a date anywhere.

For events like this one, creating and posting is based on a timeline of prompts. This is not an exchange or a gifting situation by design.

When posting your event work on tumblr, please tag using the following format: #DayX #Kink #GaaSakuKinkBreak2020. For example:

#Day21 #dream #GaaSakuKinkBreak2020

Do remember that tumblr has decided it doesn’t like porn anymore, except for the thousands of porn bots. Because of this, all porn needs to be linked to externally.

Post links to your finished work (1) after the month begins and (2) on or after the day for your chosen prompt occurs. Late submissions are allowed and encouraged provided they follow all other rules about posting. So, if you finish your Day 12th post on the 13th, you are allowed to post it on the 13th. Or after. Anything posted early will not be reblogged.

All content for this event should be GaaSaku or GaaSaku-adjacent!

Regarding content warnings: it is assumed that you will be including whatever kink is on that day. For anything else you think people might like to be warned about (or if you are writing on the build-a-bear day), please make note. This includes but is not limited to: dark works including things like torture, rape, drug use, suicide or mentions of it, and/or major character death; nonlisted kinks; etc. Dark works and other kinks are welcome, but they must be properly listed.

No one wants to stifle creativity or self-expression, but this is only fun if everyone is having fun. Do not “surprise” people with something that may make them have a bad time.

You do not have to create something for all the days!

PROMPTS

There is one prompt included for days 1-14 and days 22-30+32. You may combine prompts from different days. It’s up to you which day you want to choose to post on; do not double post on both days.

The Week of Wholesomeness is a silly joke but still subscribes to the same posting rules. That being said, some clarification for posterity… You do not have to make G-rated postings during the Week of Wholesomeness. Feel free to take the prompt about jumping in puddles on a rainy day (or any of the Day 15-21 prompts) and make it the most sexually depraved dumpster fire of a work you have ever made in your life. This is humorous.

You do not have to make explicit postings of the explicit prompts during the Week of Wholesomeness. Feel free to take the prompt about angry sex (or any of the Day 15-21 prompts) and make it the most wholesome work you have ever made in your life. This is also humorous.

Any combination of the above is hilarious. What will you do if you take up the extra moist challenge? Double down on the nasty? Or the wholesome? It’s up to you.

However, this is otherwise a Horny Event. All postings outside of the Week of Wholesomeness are expected to be rated T or above. If you find some way of writing about group sex in a way that is PG, feel free to post it after April so that I may marvel at your talents.

ACCEPTABLE MEDIA Everything! Yes. Art, fic, moodboards, comics, translations, etc. are all acceptable media. Please only submit your own work unless you are given explicit permission by the creator to post their work for this specific challenge.

[ahgasetay]

Request rules

These are just some simple rules for requesting. We ask you read these over, and request accordingly. We write for pretty much EVERY boy group

We will write:

Imagines

Scenarios

Reactions

Fake texts

Moodboards/ aesthetic

MTL

Ships

Custom playlists

Song fics

Idolxidol if it’s not in a romantic way (like bambam and yugyeom go to the arcade cause they’re bored)

We will NOT write things with Readers acting upon Mental Illness. EX:“BTS coming home to find their S/O cutting” “How would High4 react if their S/O committed suicide.” However we WILL write things that don’t act upon Mental Illness, but relate too.EX:“How would EXO react if their S/O had self harm scars” “How would iKON react to knowing their S/O has Depression”

We will NOT write overly specific or under specific requests EX: “Got7 reacts to being caught dating a girl that is Muslim/Islam/Jewish/Christian etc.” “ateez ideal types” as these requests might be hard for others to relate to because it’s so specific and example of under specific is “Yao Mingming imagine” but we WILL write ones like “pentagon reacts to their s.o giving them a surprise kiss” “Astro’s reaction to their s.o messing up breakfast”

We will NOT write smut for minors, nasty

We will NOT write poly relationships

[ylove-bandaesthetics]

Bands & Colors! 🌈

Nasty Suicide + Blue!

What’s your favorite color?✨

[whisperess33]

Can i request nasty suicide moodboard? Im glad youre back!

Oh hi yes of course thanks for asking ❤ And I'm glad to be back 😁 I'll PM you right now for details 😄