#slight angst cw

[skxllbxnny]

If you have any ocs and you’re comfortable sharing I’d like to hear about them! No pressure!

[tumblr] stop trying to eat my inbox challenge impossible

THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS IN MY HEAD U DONT EVEN GET IT ok maybe u do because i, unfortunately, havent been fixated on my ocs but instead fully on BATIM so oops

anyways ramble under the cut

OK OK SO FIRST OF ALL I LOVE YOU SECOND I HAVE A WORLD IN MY HEAD THAT I STARTED TO LIKE WRITE ABOUT IN MY SKETCHBOOK LMAO

ok so sanaa, a fennsang- a hybrid between a banded linsang(sort of like a weasel, theyre really cool) and a fennec fox- is like the protag of this world. she was my brainrot for a year but uh i kind of maybe lost that spark

(i cant find any art of her but itd be like really old<///3)

i also had cody, an african wild dog!

i do not like my old art style but i love my little trans man ghjdbfjejfbr . anyways i also designed Maou/Mawu, an african moon goddess, and tried my best to do research on animals associated with her, as well as the blood moon festival. ofc, i was young and probably missed so many details, so please forgive my ignorance as i know i cant do it justice

i wrote, " in central africa, at the festival of the blood moon. Taking place every 30 years it is celebrated to welcome the Moon goddess, Mawu(Maou), from her 30-year slumber. It lasts the whole night, from 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 a.m. food and drinks are sold at stalls for a certain amount of bugs. Some bugs are more valuable than others." the bug part is my universe thing, obviously, theyre like a type of currency for most critters- another type is kelp or mushrooms, sort of like trading- but ofc its not exactly like real-life currency. another passage on a different page is " the moon parade, also called Mawoo, is a parade/festival celebrated all throughout Central africa, mainly in nigeria, where the canines gathered together to howl to awaken her(Mawu)" obv i put like worldbuilding there but i sort of feel like it isnt,, idk. i dont think i should have based it that closely on a real-life thing idk idk heres an old drawing

i was so proud at the time but i wanna redraw these goobers fjejbfje. actually brb gonna do tht

hi im back like an hour later with sketches tweehee

much better i think :)

anywayswhere was i,,,, uh. ok anyways moving on ig? sanaa's parents met at this festival and they were like yea we vibe together. jakob(linsang dad) and feechi(fennec mom) ((can u tell im not good at names fjejfn)) and they settled down in south africa to have a kid and raise it properly kind of thing. sanaa grows up alright, the kind of kid that like,,, wanders around her neighborhood, picking up sticks and rocks, throwing them at the ground from the top of a tree she climbed because you stopped looking at her for 2 seconds

so lne day she meets cody, because she accidentally threw a stick at him she wasnt looking. so they were like. yeah we r friends now :)

they grow up together, get an apartment and are ROOMIE BUDDIES when they turn like 20 cos its fun. insert angst insert angst and suddenly the town is in hysteria and THATS WHERE I STOPPED WRITING NOOOO :(

[azlrse]

➳ unintentionally (a boothill x gn!spouse!reader oneshot)

cw: major angst w/ open ending, reader has a bruise (unintentionally) from their ranger husband, accidental slap (also unintentional), established relationship, married au, lots of apologies and crying present here, ooc boothill (first time writing for him)

a/n: alright, as soon as i saw boothill for the first time, I was like "bet lemme write something for him". he's gonna be ooc cause 1. i didn't play the game yet (cries incompatible tablet) and 2. i am still learning the roots of this game's lore (and him once he's released) lol

!! fic contains sensitive topic, steer clear if this fic ain't your piece of cake !!

"darlin'?" a voice called out in the side of the storage room. "please come out, i-i didn't mean to hit you and im really sorry.." your husband called out for you softly to avoid scaring you further. his constant knocking and coercing you to come out lasted for 5 minutes, making you curl up further within the corner of the walls. "leave me alone.." you meekly spoke, voice still hoarse from your earlier cries as you held your bruised, swollen face.

his constant knocking just faded away as you sobbed, using your free hand to wipe away your snot and tears dripping from your face. if you just steer clear from him and not pestering him because of his anger, you wouldn't be hit and to be screamed by boothil to just leave him alone. you knew that your husband is like a dynamite, ready to explode at any moment due to his occupation. boothill assures you that he will never lay a hand on you, even when the both of you are either arguing or disagreeing over something that's simple and stupid.

but this day, he broke that one promise that kept you safe since the day he asked you out. just because of his anger towards that one outlaw who's on the run for weeks. almost captured but alas, his luck ran out once again as the prisoner kept on taunting him that he will never be caught by him.

boothill, on the other side of the door, won't give up as he waits for you to open the door and letting him treat your bruised lip and swollen cheek. he knows that it's not an excuse for him to let out such anger towards his spouse. guilt kept on creeping through his system, hearing you sobbing telling him to just leave you alone. "im sorry, sugar.." he sadly spoke, reluctantly returning to the sleeping quarters that the both of you shared.

at around 4:30 am, he quietly opens the door of the storage room and looks around to see if you are sleeping soundly; tear stains on your face, a bruised and swollen cheek, and using a rolled towel as your pillow. his heart shattered what he has done to you and knew that he doesn't deserve your forgiveness. he feared that there will be a day that you would leave him all by himself, all because of how he acted towards his own emotions and anger.

boothil scooped you into his arms as your head leaned towards his warm body. he knew that you liked it when you huddled close towards his chest as he placed a chaste kiss on your head. placing you on the shared bed, he cleans your bruises and places an ice pack on the side of you. he stared at your sleeping face for sometime before he murmurs soft apologies to you, even promising that he will never do again.

the soft light from the curtains woke you up from your sleeping slumber after the ordeal last night. 'strange..' you thought to yourself as you saw the ceiling of the bedroom you shared with your husband, not the plain white ceiling from the storage room where you seek safety during your husband's anger episode. you placed a hand on your bruised cheek and felt a small gauze on top of it and a bit of cold from the ice pack he placed on the side of your face last night.

you tried to get off the bed but felt a robotic arm wrapped around your waist. "no, no..." boothill softly murmurs. "five more minutes sugar, needin' you here right now.." a wave of anxiousness just came rushing towards you as you saw your husband on the bed with you, snuggling as he finally woke up from his sleep; his cropped jacket is gone and only had a pair of short as his sleeping attire, his hair smells like newly lit cigarettes from his trip to the saloon yesterday.

if you aren't anxious, you would be flustered of his appearance.

"mornin' sugar.." he softly spoke as he leans in to give you a kiss. afraid, you quickly jumped off the bed and quickly make a beeline for the storage room once again. "w-wait!" his quick reflexes caught your arm. "don't leave me, let's talk it here my love. I know what I did is unacceptable and I'm really sorry for hitting you." Silence looms within the bedroom as you eyes avoided his. "Please.." He pleaded, his eyes soften as guilt crept on his back.

it's up to you to decide of you should stay for him or choosing your own peace...

a/n: not my best work but hopefully you guys liked my take on boothill (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)♡

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[clownboi1i1ii]

Commissions for @meltingpiles

[the-softest-love-is-ours]

(Not intended slightly angsty, but you can interpret it that way if you want)

Imagine telling your (villain/morally grey) F/O “No matter what, I want to be there, I want to be with you… that’s the shape of my selfishness.” To which they respond “You don’t mean that… you can’t be as awful as I am…” and you remind them “I never say things I don’t mean.”… there’s a pause as they process your words and sincerity… then they say “I think I may have ruined you.”

[moviememokeeper]

Reca likes to act like he can hold his liquor, but in reality he gets drunk really easily

When he’s a tipsy he gets loud, cheerful and pretty energetic. If he’s around his s/o he gets flirty

When he’s wasted he gets depressed. Like that’s when you know he’s drinking to forget, something happened, he’s upset and not coping in a healthy way

[nemisisnemi]

Are you ready for the three for three angst asks >:)

This one might be a little intense for some people

So only do it if you're comfy but

Kalim with hemomania (the compulsion to drink your own blood jam on sight) :) If that's too vague or feels like uncomfortable territory in regards to how he draws blood, then maybe Kalim post kidnapping attempt <3

it's just jam i swear- pt 2

first-ish time drawing Kalim! The other time was a chibi sketch of him on a carousel in the playful land event made in my sketchbook

[kainekillinggod]

Where it All Falls

Bill stuck out his hand, smiling—if he could smile—widely. Dipper looked down at it, eyeing him suspiciously. "First, what exactly do you want from me?" Bill flashed red but kept the same posture. "Just something from Sixers lab.. and in return, I'll make sure Shooting Star gets all her little pearls back, straightened too, so another one of your... incidents... doesn't happen again!" Dipper shook his head slightly. "No, tell me Bill, what do you want exactly from the lab?"

Bill grows in size, towering over the small damaged boy. He seemed to glitch out turning several different patterns and shades. With a final sigh, Bill closed his eye. The Rift appeared on his triangular body, and he opened his eye again. "I want this neat little globe, that's all. Nothing special!" Dipper stood swiftly, slightly enraged. "The Rift?! The very thing Uncle Ford told me not to give to you!?" He was outraged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "No, never-!"

"Woah, woah, kid! Kid, calm down." Bill grinned in his strange way again, putting his hands up in front of him in, floating back slightly. "Here, I'll throw in some better stuff. I'll wipe all their memories of this happening, I'll even make sure a happier, more fun memory takes its place. Where you're the hero, and Shooting Star is smiling and enjoying herself. Come on, that's a lot for me to do kid."

Dipper stays still with his hands still in his pockets. He looks around, thinking of the best option. The image of Mabels braces and teeth goring up the dirt and ground flashed his mind, making his nauseous. "Oh god..." Dipper swallowed hard, wiping a tear away. "If.. if you swear it. If you swear Mabel is gonna be okay again, then that's all I care about. You swear it?" He asks, hesitantly pulling a hand out.

"I swear it, Pine Tree!"

"Then it's a deal."

Dipper sticks his palm out, and Bill grabs it with a bone breaking force, a blue flame igniting all around them, and they're floating, floating, floating past the trees and clouds. "You made a good choice, kid. But uh, I suppose I never did specify how I wanted to get that Rift, or when i'd patch up your sister." With a shreaking laugh, Bill dropped Dippers hand and barreled into his chest, flinging Dippers soul out and his body falling way down, down, down, into the forest below. The ominous blue light lit up the darkness, Bipper floating out of the trees and towards the mystery shack. Dipper let out a silent scream, unheard by anyone or anything.

Part 4!!

Part 1; https://www.tumblr.com/kainekillinggod/757932647684210688/where-it-all-falls?source=share

Part 2; https://www.tumblr.com/kainekillinggod/757933128846295040/where-it-all-falls?source=share

Part 3; https://www.tumblr.com/kainekillinggod/757933572128718848/where-it-all-falls?source=share

Might continue this idea later, with art or something :p

[trebuchet151]

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you."

(Remain silent.)

Having some fun with screenshot redraws lately

[weepingmilkshakedreamer]

My September

yeah I'm a bit pr0ud 0f thiz little animati0n and h0w it turned 0ut z0 uhh yeah i h0pe y0u guyz like it! l0l

alz0 fun fact the tw0 characterz in the BG here, being the w0man n the guy wh0'z h0lding 0nt0 Swap!Bradley t0 prevent him fr0m killing aure0la, are Alanz parentz b0th 0f which were made by my friend @/nasutchi. l0l

alz0 btw juzt adding thiz in here Bradley iz trying t0 kill aure0la cuz he think she killed Alan n ztuff.

[beevvy]

hyrule (zelda I - zelda II)

[hopepetal]

Part nine pog :D I have no strong feelings about this one but hey at least it's done hallelujah

We have some content warnings for this one! Graphic depictions of violence, murder, blood, kinda cannibalism ig?

Masterlist

@applestruda @stiffyck

Magic is a fickle thing.

When people are born, they all have life energy. This is what keeps them, well, alive. It is the beat of their heart, pumping blood through their veins. It is the inhale and exhale of air, the hum of the earth and the music of the stars. It is the feeling of peace one has when finally laying down in their soft bed after a long day. It is the joy in laughter, the tenderness in love, and the healing after heartbreak.

To say someone is born with magic would be, while widely socially acceptable, is factually incorrect. To be born with magic is to be born with a surplus of life energy that manifests itself in what everyone calls “magic”. Hence, magic is not something anyone is born with, but rather a side effect of life itself. Magic is energy, and a very demanding energy at that one. It must be used, for otherwise it will build and build until it breaks through whatever tried to hold it in.

For Scar, his magic was like water. The less he used it, the more he held it in and tried to control it, the hotter it got. Every time he suppressed the growing urge to transform, the pressure built. Soon, it was as though his magic was simmering under his skin, just about ready to boil over if he wasn’t careful. It was harder than he would’ve ever thought. Borrowed magic, contractual magic, or otherwise non-naturally received types of magic were much more heavily reliant on emotions than magic one got naturally, and the past few days had been… emotionally charged, to say the least.

Scar knew that Grian had noticed his condition. At this point, he couldn’t do anything about the white streak in his hair or the soft glow to his eyes. His fingers had begun to become pointed into claws that pierced through the palms of his hands whenever he clenched his fists, drawing blood. The avian was glancing over at him in concern, every so often leaning slightly closer and brushing his shoulder against Scar.

“I know,” Scar had whispered when Grian’s eyes flicked up to his white hair. He had shrugged, trying to keep a handle on the worry that was beginning to rise in his chest. He had never gone this long without using his magic before, ever since he got it he had always done his best to go along with his instincts and general “magic urges”. Cub had told him it would be bad if he fought his magic.

But going along with his instincts and letting his magic get the best of him was the whole reason he was in this mess. He hurt his friends. This was just the price he had to pay for his mistake.

Grian and Scar were walking along in silence for the most part now, with Opal and Fern both in front of them, talking too softly to be understood by the two walking behind them. Every so often Opal or Fern would look back to check on their captives, but for the most part Grian and Scar were left unsupervised. 

Which gave Grian the time he needed to cut through the ropes tying his hands together behind his back. Brushing his shoulder against Scar to get the other man’s attention, he grinned and held up the cut ropes with one hand and used the other to press a finger against his lips in a silent shushing motion. He shuffled over to be right against Scar, starting to work on the other man’s bonds. 

Opal and Fern seemed to be in the middle of a heated discussion, meaning they weren’t paying any attention to the two knights walking behind them. Scar felt the ropes around his wrists loosening, then finally dropping. He fought the urge to shake his arms out to get the blood flowing again, settling with rubbing his hands together and interlacing his fingers behind his back. His eyes met Grian’s and he tried to silently ask what the plan was. Met with nothing but a shrug, Scar had to hold back a groan. 

Oh boy. They were both going to die. 

So focused on the fact that they didn’t have a plan, Scar didn’t notice that Fern and Opal had stopped walking. He slammed right into Fern, which caused him to yelp and stumble back. The two turned around as Grian cursed and drew the small dagger he had been hiding, flaring his wings out in an instinctual defense mechanism to make himself look larger than he actually was. In doing so, he pushed Scar behind him and obscured the other knight from their captors. 

There was no time for talking then. Fern and Opal instantly drew their weapons and attacked, and Grian was barely able to keep up. It was over too quickly for Scar to do anything- one moment Grian was standing and shouting insults at their captors, and the next he was pinned to the ground on his stomach and Fern’s sword was at Scar’s throat. 

Scar put his hands up, smiling nervously. “Hey, hey now, there’s no need for that!” His eyes flicked over to Grian, who was struggling against Opal as she put a knee on his back between his wings. “Hey, be careful!” 

Fern pressed their sword against Scar’s throat, just hard enough to draw blood. “Shut up,” she snapped, before glancing back to Opal. “You got more rope?”

“Yeah,” Opal grunted, still trying to keep Grian down, “but not enough for these stupid-” She squawked when one of Grian’s wings, which she had been so desperately trying to pin down, smacked her in the face- “these stupid wings! Void, will you stop?!” 

“Let us go!” Grian shouted, trying to kick at Opal, his wings still beating the ground as he attempted to get her off of him. “You’ll regret this, just you wait!”

Opal let out a frustrated growl, her hand tightening around the hilt of her sword. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, glancing over at Fern. Her eyes were dark, and Scar felt anxiety rise in his chest as she spoke. “You have a health pot in your bag, right?” 

Fern frowned, keeping her sword at Scar’s neck as she nodded. “Yeah, I have a few. Always do. Why-”

Opal interrupted Fern as she stomped down on one of Grian’s wings, earning a shriek from the avian as the limb was pinned down. “I’m cutting off these stupid wings.” With that, she raised her sword to do the deed.

Over the course of four or five days- really, who was counting anymore- Scar had been suppressing his vex magic. It showed in his too-sharp nails, his eyes that had turned an icy blue, and his fading hair color. It showed in the slight tremors in his hands, the bags under his eyes, the pain that just kept building and building in his chest as he tried to hide an essential part of himself.

Magic does not fade. Once in existence, it will continue to circulate until it is used. When a person uses external magic without a spell focus or an idea of what they’re doing, they are simply putting their magic back out into the world, allowing it to become ambient magic. When a spell is chanted, or used with intent, the magic forms into something real. Of course, this is only for those who use external magic- for Scar, a user of internal magic like transformation, things are a bit different.

For internal magic, the basics are the same. It does not fade. But unlike with external magic, internal magic does not have anywhere to go. It cannot become ambient magic and rejoin a cycle through the world like external magic. It can only build up until eventually, it forces itself to be used.

Scar’s vex magic, being internal, was influenced by emotion. Not so much where he would get scared and his hair would turn white, but when he felt a strong enough emotion, he would change much more easily than normal. For example, a strong feeling of rage would leave him with glowing eyes and white hair for a while, until he could get himself calm at least. And that was just on a normal day.

Scar’s vex magic had been building up for the past few days. It was simmering under his skin, a raging tide ready to break free at any moment. 

And break free it did. 

Scar’s eyes burned blue as the color instantly fled from his hair, his skin changing to be the grey-blue of the vex. His nails sharpened into talons and a growl ripped from his throat as he grabbed the blade of the sword and yanked it away from Fern, not caring that his hand cut and bled. Fern let out a panicked shout as they stumbled back, giving Opal pause. She looked over just in time to see Scar lunge forward and tear through Fern’s chainmail chestplate, talons ripping through both armor and flesh.

Fern let out a choked wail as they fell back, blood pouring from the wound as she frantically tried to put pressure on her injury to stop the bleeding. Opal pulled her sword away from Grian and swung it at Scar, but it was too late. The vex was already right in front of her, and with a cruel snarl, he bit down on her throat before tearing away a huge chunk of her flesh. Choking on her own blood, Opal fell.

Scar let out a roar of anger, the sound haunting as it echoed throughout the forest. In the distance, a wolf howled in response. The sound of a goat horn cut through the screams of death and panic, and Scar whipped around to see Fern blowing into the horn. His anger surged, and as fast as lightning he was at Fern’s side, yanking her up by the collar of her shirt. “You,” he growled, his voice echoing with magic, “what have you done?” 

Fern spat in his face, and in return Scar tore out her throat. Throwing her body to the ground, Scar looked around, his brain screaming at him to find them all kill them they hurt you they hurt your friends- 

But so did you. 

A haunting wail rose from his throat as he sank to the forest floor, knees hitting the dirt with a painful thump as his magic continued to rage and swirl around him. The veritable hurricane of magic formed misty blue ribbons of smoke around him, miniature bolts of lightning at his fingertips as sparks of raw, burning magic flew from his glowing eyes. Blood dripped from his chin and talons as he screamed in agony, failure echoing in his voice. Hugging himself tightly, his talons dug into his skin, drawing small beads of blood that dribbled down contrasting blue skin in bright scarlet red.

The howl of a wolf sounded again, this time much closer. Scar could hear there was someone shouting- his name he thinks, but he can’t hear much over the magic roaring around him, whipping his magic-bleached hair in his face. His eyes were now glowing completely, shining like miniature suns as the magic just kept pouring out of him. The dam had burst, and it was impossible for him to stop it.

There were more people now, Scar could see a faint blur of red and white through the haze of magic. He let out an echoing cry, reaching out with bloodied hands toward whoever was there, his anger and fear giving way to a crushing loneliness and grief. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He had never meant to hurt anyone, really! He just messed up- he always did, why was anyone surprised- and… and he just…

“Scar! Scar, can you hear me? It’s okay, please. We’re here for you.” Grian. That was Grian, that was his friend… “Come on, please, it’s okay. We’re all here for you, and we’re not leaving you ever. No matter what. Promise.”

The magic died out as soon as it began, and Scar felt himself hit the ground. Darkness descended, and with one last sob, he let go of consciousness.

Impulse and Mumbo followed behind Pearl as she led them through the forest. They had left their horses back further in a secure location with plenty of food and water. They would be a lot more stealthy on foot, Pearl had explained, and the other two agreed. 

Impulse had frowned when Pearl said she’d be bringing Tilly. “I don’t see how the dog is crucial to the stealth mission, but…”

“Excuse you!” Pearl had exclaimed in mock offense, “Tilly is very important! Yes you are girl, oh yes you are!” And with that, they had set off, with the dog that Pearl kept insisting was a wild wolf.

They had been close to their destination when they heard screaming, and the sound of a goat horn. Tilly howled, and Pearl stiffened up, looking back at Mumbo and Impulse. “Something’s wrong.”

“You don’t have to tell us twice,” Mumbo muttered, and the three had taken off in the direction of the commotion. 

When they had gotten there, it took all Mumbo had to not freeze up in horror. Scar was in his vex form on his knees, magic as sharp as a blade swirling around him. He was covered in blood that Mumbo could only hope was not his own- something he confirmed upon seeing the two bodies next to Scar. 

Glancing over, he noticed Grian on the ground, struggling to push himself up. He rushed over and helped the avian to his feet, checking him over to make sure he had no grievous wounds. “Grian! What happened- are you alright?!”

Grian winced, nodding. “Scar, he’s- I need to help him!” He sounded desperate, and Mumbo had to hold him back to keep him from running straight to the vex.

“It’s dangerous!” Mumbo warned him, “do you see that magic? You’ll be ripped to shreds!”

Grian pushed Mumbo away. “We’re knights! It’s an occupational hazard!” He took a few steps forward, before kneeling down and calling out to Scar. 

As he spoke, Tilly began to growl. Pearl glared at the treeline, drawing her sword. “Others are coming. Most likely summoned from that goat horn.” She looked back at Mumbo and Impulse. “I need you two to get Grian and Scar out of here, alright? I can handle this.”

Impulse shook his head, stepping forward. “Absolutely not. We’re knights. We stick together.”

Pearl raised an eyebrow. “Are you doubting my capabilities? Go. Grian and Scar need you more than I do.”

Mumbo turned to look back at Grian and Scar as the magic storm died down, the color seeping back into Scar’s hair as he collapsed. Grian caught the other knight and held him close, though he looked close to passing out himself. Mumbo brushed his hand against Impulse’s arm, jerking his head toward the two other knights. “Pearl’s right. We should go.”

Reluctantly, Impulse nodded and sheathed his sword. “Right, then. We’ll meet you back at the horses?”

The sound of footsteps and faint shouting grew louder as Pearl nodded. Impulse scooped Scar up, and Mumbo helped Grian to his feet. “I’ll see you all soon.” She turned away, pulling up her hood and facing the sound of the approaching enemies. Tilly padded up to stand beside her, growling softly. 

Impulse looked over at Mumbo and smiled wearily. “Let’s get out of here.”

By the time they were back at the horses, Pearl was already there- covered in blood and smiling brightly, but there nonetheless. Grian had passed out halfway through the trip and was now being carried by Mumbo, though there were moments of semi-consciousness that made the mustachioed man chuckle. 

Carefully, the unconscious knights were settled on the horses, with Impulse sitting behind Scar and Mumbo sitting behind Grian to keep them steady. Pearl spread her wings, saying she’d watch from above and keep an eye out for them all. 

Slowly but surely, they began the long journey home.

[illyth]

Me, after getting completely burnt out by a job and not writing creatively for like four years: man I really should think about writing something again. I just need to find something I am passionate about to use as a jumping off point *immediately starts writing LU fanfic*

I'm gonna post the full thing on AO3 either tomorrow or Sunday but for the time being I just wanted to share this somewhere. This is a 400 word excerpt of a single chapter that is maybe half written and already 2000 words and I am planning on there being 3 chapters total so hand to god trust me there will be context at some point (if you know me irl no you don't jk y'all know im a complete gremlin for fanfic) Idk how good it is exactly but its the first thing I have written in so long that I actually want other people to see and I crave feedback, so do with that what you will lmao

cw: violence, blood, injury, the slightest body horror

Time and the Deity both snarled, lunging the god’s blade forward. Majora flung itself forward as well, its inhuman screams reaching a frenzied pitch as it whipped its clawlike hands towards the Deity’s face. Behind it, he could see the length of the helix greatsword erupting from the monstrosity’s back, spraying black blood outwards into the moonlight. But Majora pushed forward still, and Time could feel the Deity’s revulsion as its fingers grasped the sides of their face. Time braced himself for it to rake its claws against his face in dying spite, but something changed. Gently, oh so gently, Majora sank its claws into the flesh below his ears. The Deity screamed in rage and pain, but Time felt no pain. Instead, Time felt callused fingers slip into the seams between the Deity’s consciousness and his own and felt roughly textured knuckles run across his face while the Fierce Deity’s power was pulled from him. In a brief flash of light, Time felt the Fierce Deity fully recede back to his mask.

Time came back to himself holding the Fierce Deity’s blade as it began slowly dissolving into light, the crimson blood dripping from its edges and darkening the dirt beneath them. His mind was hazy and unfocused, as if stunned by a thunderclap. His faculties began returning, but there was a lethargy to them he just couldn’t shake. A distant corner of his brain recognized his brothers in the background, but whatever they were saying couldn’t pierce the numbing in his ears. Inches away from him, Time saw the host of Majora begin trembling. The Fierce Deity’s mask slipped through scarred fingers and dropped to the ground. The host reached towards Majora’s mask with a black arm that was covered in elaborate etchings and ornamentation. After a moment, the cursed mask came loose before also dropping to the ground, clattering off the Deity’s mask. All sound was muffled save for the plip of blood drops staining the masks below as Time’s mind struggled to process the sight in front of him “…Wild?” he managed to wheeze out after a moment’s pause. This didn’t make any sense. Where did Majora go? And why was Wild standing right where-

Time’s thoughts ground to a halt as he looked lower. The helix blade wielded by the Deity, shaking slighting in his weakening grip, was rammed through Wild’s chest to the hilt.

[yakksalot]

“ ....I have this breath and I hold it tight And I keep it in my chest with all my might I pray to God this breath will last As it pushes past my lips As I Gasp, gasp.... ” 💓⚡

[zealfruity]

Some spooky angsty OC fanart before my day ends.

I have very vague plans for Poppy. She will surely suffer.

[somber-sapphic]

Compromised System

〘Day 3- "What happened to that phenomenal immune system, huh?"〙

〘Notes- This is drastically unedited and thrown together at the last second. The colors are also different because I forgot to save them. Oops.〙

〘Summary- When Lena gets sick, she really gets sick.〙

〘Word Count- 550〙

〘Pairing- Sick Lena x Reader〙

〚Main Masterlist〛⌶〚Sicktember Masterlist〛

You sighed and tucked a stray lock of Lena’s raven hair behind her ear, out of her sweaty face. Her chapped lips were parted slightly, each breath a bit raspy. Every so often you would grab a tissue to wipe her runny nose, accepting the fact that the woman was in no shape to do so herself.

Lena wasn’t even protesting, in fact, she wasn’t moving. She would open her eyes every so often to prove that she was awake but didn’t seem to care in the slightest that you were coddling her.

You dipped the cloth that had been resting on her forehead back into the cool basin of water on the bedside and brushed it across her skin, wiping away the sweat. She smiled slightly at the cool touch and licked her lips, working hard on preparing to speak.

“Thank you, Y/n.,” Lena croaked, words a mere whisper over the sound of Titanic playing in the background. The brunette wasn’t watching, neither of you were, but she had insisted that you put it on before she collapsed into bed.

Not being one to argue with your girlfriend, especially when she was sick, you’d done as she’d asked. It was roughly three fourths of the way into the movie, and you were incredibly bored. When you had looked it up on IMDB and seen it was 3 hours you had hoped she’d fall asleep soon so that you could turn it off. That wasn’t the case.

“Of course, my love. What happened to that phenomenal immune system of yours, huh?” You teased half-heartedly, your heart heavy with worry and guilt. You had given her this flu; it had been your fault. Of course, you hadn’t been nearly as sick. Probably due to the wonderful care of the beautiful woman laying in front of you.

“Mmm.” She hummed, shrugging under the pile of blankets. You were being incredibly careful in monitoring the CEO’s temperature, removing, and adding blankets as her shivering changed in intensity and frequency. Thankfully, although she was basically a vegetable, Lena’s temperature hadn’t gone above 102 degrees.

“Yeah, I think so too.” You replied, repositioning the cloth across her forehead. She had fought you on it in the beginning, insisting that she was absolutely fine. That had changed after only about ten minutes of her being horizontal.

You could tell that she was beginning to drift off, finally giving into her bodies pleas to sleep. As you sat on the edge of the bed, watching her breathing slow and her chest rise with the deeper breaths, you relaxed. It was easier to calm down knowing that she was asleep.

With one more large sigh, you shifted to sit beside her with your legs on top of the covers. You settled back against the pillows and eased Lena’s head into your lap, smiling to yourself when she instinctively grabbed your pant leg.

Even though she was bedridden now, your joke about her immune system hadn’t been wrong. Typically, it was amazing, she could work for days without sleeping and crash for a day only to end up perfectly fine. You were sure she’d been back to full health in a couple of days and go right back to work.

Only Lena Luthor could go from miserably sick to bouncing around again in a weekend.

〖Join My Taglist!〗@lovelyy-moonlight, @bloomingflowersthings, @lots-of-pockets, @asiangmrchk13, @scrambled-brain-eggs, @juststuckhereforever, @fayhar, @chairhere, @canvascoloredin, @iliketozoneout, @goldenempyrean, @rantingsofahopelessromantic

[mrstsung]

And now

Some hanzo hasashi scorpion self ship art

A passionate,yearning,emotional kiss. Finally,hanzo is happy again,hanzo has love again,hanzo deserves a fucking wife!

*ahem* sorry bout that. 😅

But yeah,hanzo would totally cry if he got someone again. He's the type to cry during and after the spicy(tm) times. Like come on wouldn't you?! I mean,you spent all this time,getting vengeance for your fucking clan,avenge the death of your late wife and son,gain life and mortality again,find peace inner and outer,regain his clan THE SHIRAI-RYU!,and then find love again and not expect him to fucking cry?! Not in this house! Hanzo hasashi deserves to cry happy!!!!! Damn it! *shakes fist*

Like i will give this man happiness and a better narrative if it's the last thing I do!

But yeah enjoy cute,crying kissy art.

Used a base.