#neck trauma cw

[fictionkinfessions]

..She is not my mother, but.

Happy Mother's day to Sklonda Gukgak, the mother of my Romance Partner.

I, apologize for. Showing up in your mirrors and staring at my romance partner through the mirrors

And, also for snapping your sons neck.. You raised him well, and I am glad that he and you exist.

You are extremely kind, Sklonda Gukgak.

Also. If a Sklonda Gukgak sees this and has their Riz Gukgak.

Please tell Riz Gukgak that I miss him. And also to sleep for once in his life.

- Baron of the Baronies. Fantasy high / D20

x

[eusarca]

“One thing we all share is the desire to see tomorrow, right?”

In the vast white expanse left behind by the fantastical kingdoms, Kyrie stood among the forces opposing the Demon Lord. Their hair no longer unfurled like a flower, and the natural power they could tap into was what they’d earned in death. The dagger they held was once again what they’d asked for through Spirale’s strange ATM-like terminal. They gripped the handle tighter, finding relief in the familiar. 

They were dead again, but that was as it should be.

Although they stood on Spirale’s — Ofiuco’s — side, disgust bubbled up and burned at the idea of considering themself part of the allied armies. They resolved to ignore everything around them and fight as if they stood alone. Taking on what they could handle and leaving the rest to whoever was unfortunate enough to be attacked by it: that what they could bring to this table, and it would simply have to be enough.

Kyrie began their solo battle by fading from view. As soon as it realized it had lost its target, one of the repulsive creatures under the Demon Lord’s command stopped its approach. The spirit faintly rematerialized behind it, a see-through illusion except for a very solid hand wielding a very solid dagger reaching around the creature. They plunged the dagger into its chest, wrapping their solidifying arms around their victim and holding it close. The embrace was tender and firm; their continued stabbing was vicious and uninterrupted by the creature flailing its arms. When it slackened and started to fall over, Kyrie let go and disappeared into nothingness again.

The bloodshed around them intensified as Spirale’s captive force let their true powers free. Compared to those who could wipe out a line of enemies in one strike, Kyrie’s contribution was slow and methodical, eliminating one enemy at a time. Their head and heart were clear, feeling neither anger nor joy. Three down. Four down. Five down. All fell to personal, physical attacks — not that Kyrie imagined their illusions would influence monsters as well as they did humans.

After the fifth, they halted their counterattack. Out from among the Demon Lord’s minions strode a figure they knew: a silent version of themself walking among unending mist. None of the panic Kyrie felt when up against it before returned. This time, they were either on equal ground, or Kyrie was even higher. 

“I guess it’s time to finish this, huh?” Kyrie said through the din. Mistrie responded by dashing forward, and Kyrie reacted in kind. 

As they were about to clash, Mistrie went incorporeal, expecting their last encounter to repeat itself. A solid Kyrie did pass through it, but lost their own form the second afterward. Incorporeal touched incorporeal, and they took a big handful of MIstrie’s hair and yanked it toward them. It stumbled backward but still uttered no sound.

“I don’t think you deserve this,” Kyrie explained with a grunt of effort, pulling hard enough to toss Mistrie to the ground. “I don’t even know how much of a consciousness you have. Maybe you’re just as alive as I can claim to be.”

Mistrie didn’t answer; only pushed itself up and tried to drive its dagger into one of Kyrie’s calves. Kyrie stepped back, hovered, and focused on their own weapon. The night fragment reacted to their desire and briefly wrapped the dagger in shadows. 

“But I can’t stop now. Sorry,” they continued sincerely, a bitter smile on their face. Back when they’d faced their unstable but normal double in the city, they’d chosen to let that Kyrie take them both down rather than force them into submission. Ismael had been right there, too. It was painful and probably unnecessary, but it felt right. That Kyrie had never hurt anyone, and had never truly been hurt. 

Standing, Mistrie charged them again. This time it transformed into Ismael before their eyes, still holding that dagger with the intent to kill. With their own stability intact, Kyrie could recognize it as the illusion it was and only briefly hesitated. It was still long enough for that dagger to tear into their sleeve and upper arm, but then they grabbed that wrist holding the weapon and twisted until the illusion dropped it.

“I want to see the real Ismael again,” Kyrie said as they threw their weight on Mistrie, intending to put them both on the ground, “And Perona, and Sal, and—” They cut off the instant before they hit the ground, when the most dear face looked up at them— 

And after they hit the splattered white floor together, Kyrie laughed. “And Yaira. God, what’s wrong with you?” they asked as they pinned Mistrie down with one knee on each side of its torso. They didn’t get an answer; just the Mist Reaper reverting to its true self as a mirror.

Maybe under different circumstances, they would have tried to defeat another self by turning into the Onai sisters. Was this tranquility better, or worse?

“I’m sorry, again,” they said, and drove the point of their dagger through the neck of their Mist Reaper. They only realized it wasn’t entirely tranquility they felt when tears dropped from their face onto Mistrie’s.

The body soon began to evaporate as if it had never been there at all. Now alone, Kyrie stayed where they were for just a little longer.

“I’ll see you on the other side, if I ever get there.”

[emberoops]

This one is nice

[donutfloats]

Thinking about Nari’s big skeleton hands

[scribesofcalamity]

Another art trade with @lady-quen 👀

Scary Lich Mael. Why won’t this guy just stay down?!

[jyou-no-sonoko19]

My third entry for the Skullgirls Mobile Halloween art contest. Conceptually my favourite of the three, because they fit together so perfectly, both visually and thematically, it's Painwheel x Silent Hill, where I replaced the kanji for "red" with "pain", to create "Painful Pyramid Head".

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

🎲 *taps my chin * hm. rory and elias :)

:) quite the situation there, elias!!

[paraesol]

A butterfly caught in a spider’s web

🕸 Ko-Fi | Commissions 🕸

[knoggart]

Cringetober Day 14: Candygore with Syn (putting this under a readmore in case! CONTENT WARNING: neck trauma/floating decapitated head with candy syrup blood)

[honeydrrop]

alright who gave her an axe cmon guys you know she can’t have weapons

[calbun]

YUCKY DISGUSTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(second img is him without his scarf, Blood, or quill distortion. his muzzle being stained from the blood always sitting there is kinda funny to me its probably all gross and matted hes like a crusty old dog you know the ones)

[fictionkinfessions]

Gods, I am so glad I made a new tag for the three of us it'd be embarrassing to have all our whining associated with the rest of the system (even if this is all anonymous, it's for my own comfort more than anything lol)

Mirrors. Mirrors, right? It's so silly to be SO scared of something that happened ONE time in source, but I guess to my credit I had ptsd about it in that life? And I still have all kinds of anxiety disorders so it makes sense I'd still be a anxious? I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to find an explanation to feel less stupid.

I have all our mirrors (and general reflective surfaces like the tv) covered at night, done that for ages. Usually with leftover pride flags, or whatever I can find. I only really uncover them to use them when I'm getting ready, or want to play something on the respective screens. It's paranoia but it's whatever, it helps.

I can't cover up the bathroom mirror.

Usually I can manage but It's getting really bad this week, I'm getting so much anxiety about it that I don't dare to shower. Any time I stand in front of it I swear I can see something behind me, or that my reflection looks off. Or something. I don't know. Getting dragged into the mirror by your fake romance partner after they jump out of it and like, almost strangle you to death (I thought I was going to die. Oh my stars? I felt my neck snap I swear to you??) apparently fucks with you forever! Across multiple life times! It's so bad I think I have to like, figure something out. The bathroom mirror is nailed to the wall but I need to figure out how to remove it before I freak out and smash it.

I don't usually like talking about this stuff so, like, intimately? But this is anonymous and no one I know will see it, so I suppose it's fine. In that life I only really talked about this stuff in detail with Fabian and my parents, Jawbone a little bit. It's the kind of thing that, I don't know, I want to talk about simply because I don't want to keep it to myself but Gods is it scary to confide in others about it. It feels silly, it was all my fault anyway. I don't even hate or uh, dislike Baron for it, I think? (I'm still like, scared shitless though.) I guess it's not their fault I lied them into existence, I still beat myself up about it.

- Riz Gukgak (#🐐🌅)

x

[orangetintedglasses]

( hm.

cut for surreal gore + neck trauma )

[parhoshim]

[lockedtowers]

‘would cassie have been better off if her family was in her life’ her dads the j/abberwock and the one who took her her conscious to physically kill her to unlock her powers its hard to say if she’s have the same level of trauma or worse trauma but she would have had a father who loved her. in his way. which is still kinda shit.

[bunnys-kisses]

the jailbird (2)

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

part 1 | original text post

cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, romance & fluff, smut, size kink, sane and consensual, roleplay, rough sex, spanking, bondage & gags, tattoo kink, dom!simon, sub!reader

bunny says: love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are encouraged!

-

living with an ex-convict was interesting. he still woke up at the crack of dawn, and as a result you were up too. he didn't know where anything was in your apartment, he hated that he had to wake you up but he didn't know where the spoons were.

you were happy to help him and spend some extra time together before you went to work. the more you were around him, the more you realized how big he was compared to you.

even his hands were much larger than yours. he loved to wrap you up in his arms and hold you while you were making yourself some breakfast. those strong tattooed arms around your middle as you flipped eggs.

sometimes he'd bury his face in your neck and visibly relaxed. he was still dealing with his fair share of trauma from the previous events of his life. and while it often left him stressed, he found comfort in you.

"you're my anchor, love." he said within the first week of his return to society.

you simply smiled and tried not to blush too hard as you said, "well, si. i'll happily be your anchor, as long as your mine."

"you're anchor, your rock, your foot solider, your lover." he said as he kept his gaze on you. since he had been living with you, you found his expression had softened a little. he could relax here.

"my husband." you reached out for him. he took your hand and kissed the top of it before he held it for a moment then returned it to you.

simon had a long road ahead of him, being on the inside for so long was going to cause some problems. but, he knew even if he had nothing. he had you.

it was almost five months into living together and he managed to get an interview working in small parts manufacturing. while it was tedious, they didn't need to look at his criminal record. which greatly excited him.

when he came home from the interview, he told you that it went well. that they seemed to like his dedication and were impressed when he mentioned his time in the military. he said, "got the whole 'thank you for your service'." as he held you and kissed you deeply.

it felt like your little lives were coming together. but the one thing you hated to admit to yourself. you sort of had a dark side, it wasn't anything too aggressive or 'evil'. you thought that simon was the perfect boyfriend, he'd never hurt a hair on your head.

but the idea of being with a criminal sort of had a sexy ring to it. to be with the bad boy. you almost felt embarrassed to admit it when he'd come home with flowers for you, or when he smiled at you. or when he held your hand when you went out. with you he got to be a person with love.

deep down you wanted to know the depths of your boyfriend. you wanted to know what a man like him, with his skill set, was capable of. you wanted it to burn, ache and hurt.

it took a lot of courage, you communicated with your boyfriend about a little make believe. while hesitant at first, he slowly started to warm up to the idea. you knew he was open to it when he came home from one, actually the first day at his job, with a bundle of bondage rope.

"the blue looks good on you." he remarked as he finished tying you up on the bed. he had your arms behind your back with you on your side and one leg tied to the bed post.

you looked at him, those eyes of yours were so alluring. you tried to move your leg but was stuck to the bed. he smiled down at you and tapped the ball gag in your mouth.

"but it doesn't matter what you want. right?' he asked, "i've searched a long time for you. you're not an easy woman to catch." he got between your legs, and hiked one leg over his shoulder as he started to aggressively lick your cunt. it was already dripping from the act of him tying you up.

there was no escape for you, even if you somehow got out of the bondage. he was almost twice the size of you and could do some damage if he wanted to.

you squirmed and whimpered around the ball gag as he took long, hard licks against your clit. he wanted to make sure his girl was wet enough for his large cock.

"maybe i should breed ya. bring you back to the boys all fat with my brats.' he purred, "i don't think they can throw ya in the can if you're pregnant. but who knows, you got pregnant by a thief." he continued to lick your sweet cunt. he was in heaven.

he really was so much bigger than you. he overpowered you, he could keep you down and fuck you until he had his fill, and there was nothing you could do about it. you were bound and gagged like a good girl.

he kept at it, he even teased your hole with his thick fingers until you were squirming more with your moans getting louder. he slapped your ass and gave you a stern look over your pussy. he gripped your leg over his shoulder. "shut up." he growled, "i don't need ya causin' a scene. i'd hate to go back to prison because you can't keep your trap shut up."

you hole clenched and he chuckled. he patted where he smacked and grabbed at the flesh before he went back to his feast between your legs. it didn't take long before the slick between your thighs got all over his face.

he pulled away and sat up on his knees. he stared down at you with your thigh wrapped around his waist. he was going to fuck you at a weird angle, but it was the only way he could keep his little prize tied up. he wiped is face, "you are the best thing i've caught." he said, "stolen a lotta loose change, but they're nothin' to the sweet taste of your cunt." he got his cock out his sweatpants and started to rub it against your slick pussy. he let out a harsh sigh from the sensation, "they should be keepin' ya behind the vault door." the tip slipped in for a moment and you clenched around it.

you whimpered and tried to pushed yourself down on his cock, but it was hard to do that when you were so tied up, he pushed the hair out of your eyes, your leftover wetness got on your cheek from his movements.

"but, you need to know." he said, "you're mine to do whatever to. your mommy and daddy aren't gonna save ya. you fell in love with a bad man and now you're lettin' him fuck your cunt raw. what's gonna happen at christmas when you're all swollen with my brats. riley boys are lil hell raisers." he went back to rubbing his cock up against your slit, "you'll be mine forever. my little prize. i should've taken ya a long time ago. just snatched ya up off the train. keep ya to myself." his tongue was getting loose from the buzz of pleasure in his brain.

you whimpered around the gag and almost cried out when he slipped his large cock into you easily. you felt it in your guts and his pace was much more brutal than the other times you've made love. that was the difference, you made love before. this was dirty, primal sex between a criminal and his captive.

the sounds of sex filled the air, paired with simon's heavy breathing. his heart was thumping steadily as he pushed his cock as deep as it would go. he loomed over you as he drilled himself into you. you were a comfortably tight fit around his cock.

you dug your nails into your palms from the immense pleasure and yelped when he slapped your ass. you whimpered when he leaned further into you to get closer into your personal space. his pace was brutal and it excited you.

"i'm a bad man." he said lowly, his voice close to your ear, "my worst crime is tainting such a precious angel." he held onto your calf as he bent your hips the closer he got. his voice was hot, "fill ya right up, make sure no other man has a chance to get ya knocked up." his tattooed hand went to your stomach which he gave a small rub, "my girl carryin' my boys."

your eyes almost rolled back from the heat in your body. you were almost drooling around the rubber gag in your mouth. it was dirty, it was filth. if anyone saw the state you were in, they would be shocked!

your head felt full of lust, you felt your lover so close to him. you knew despite the roughness and the harsh words, the entire scenario was safe. you knew you could get out of this if you needed to. but it wasn't getting to be too much, it was just enough.

the wetness between your legs and the flips in your stomach only excited you. to have such a large man be so domineering. it made you feel small in a good way. it was almost like being bound made you feel protected.

that you could lay yourself over to him and he'd cherish you. even if you were his little 'prize' for the evening. the hottest part was the pace at which his cock was battering your womb.

you whimpered against your gag and felt the heat rush through you. you held onto your palms as best as you could with your arms bound. the entire situation left you spinning, there was no wonder that orgasm crept up on you so easily.

with a loud moan around your gag, you climaxed around his cock. the tightness of your cunt mid-orgasm milked his cock till he was seeing stars. he came inside of you, his seed hit against the back of your womb.

the feeling of being able to do so left him a little slack-jawed. but he kept it together, even if his cheeks were flushed. when he finished, he slowly pulled out and started to untie you. his hands were shaky from the after effects of his orgasm.

he took the gag out of your mouth and pulled you in for a kiss when he finished untying you. he fell into bed with you and laid on top of the covers with you. he held you gently and kissed your face. he gave you gentle praise as he kept you in his arms.

when he looked at you, all was right in the world. you held onto him and pressed kisses against his face. after care consisted of tea and a small snack followed by a shower together, where he washed every part of you.

even though you were capable of doing it yourself, you still appreciated how detail orientated he was in the manner of getting you clean. little did you know that biology was working its magic and simon's seed found home in your cervix.

you better hope that the line about the riley boys being hellions was untrue or you'd have your hands full. it didn't help that when simon's hand grazed your stomach as he washed you that you blushed and tucked yourself closer to him.

mama riley did have a ring to it.