#spiders are hell spawn

[carlsdarling]

Bah. A week after my surgery, I get up this morning, struggle to get out of the bedroom, go to the bathroom and then limp into the living room and there's THAT running across the floor!!!! Seriously, I almost suffered a heart attack. Matching the Anon message I recently received about the spider. Spiders = Army of Death.

💀☠️

[8ctogirl]

idk if this counts but if possible could you do ghost peter asking otoha “what did the barber do to you”

[maythray]

i wanna get a selfie with the corpse tower but im kind of scared. like. its so volatile. if anything bumps it all 20+ dead kings down there activate. and i dont know how or if i could even handle that.

[opulace]

── BEHIND YOU! 緑 谷出久 midoriya izuku

contains: gn!reader, prohero!izuku, fluff, slight crack, established relationship, pet names (hun, love, baby)

word count: 0.8k

baby, a demon spawn behind you!

midoriya izuku is a gentle soul, despite his strength, you're convinced he wouldn't even hurt a fly, unless it mattered of course. with no one else to call, it's unfortunate that you've ended up in this predicament.

"izu?" your voice shook as you called out the name that never once struck fear in your core. that sentiment still rings true, yet the alarm coating your words doesn't slip past izuku. nothing does, not when it comes to you.

the grip on his phone is secure, any tighter and he's probably going to break it on accident, knuckles bordering white as he desperately tries to understand what's going on. "what happened hun? talk to me."

your voice clips as it gives in to static and poor connection, "t-there's, it's in t-the bathroom."

"what's in the bathroom love? did someone break in?" this is the worst case scenario because he installed one hell of a security system for you under the guise of just in case. you'll never know these days, it's better to be safe than sorry.

your breathing is quick, coming up short and leaving your chest heaving, almost aching as your voice trembles with worry. "it's coming towards me—!"

"shit okay okay, shh, deep breaths baby." at this rate he might need those breaths more than you, his heart clenching at the thought of someone laying even a finger on you. it angers him, his blood boils at the audacity of whoever, whatever it is that's causing you such distress, but he lets it simmer with a harsh inhale and exhale. he needs to remain calm for you. "are you hurt?"

"n-no." you choke out, and he can almost picture you shaking your head like you always do. "hurry, please..."

"good, that's good to hear hun. i want you to stay on the phone with me okay? i'll be there very soon." he thanks his lucky stars that he was patrolling just around the neighbourhood, an uneventful shift today for the most part, that he could drop everything and rush over quickly.

izuku barely holds himself back from kicking down your door and when he passes the threshold, your scream echos through the speakers of his phone and the otherwise quiet apartment. the shrill terror causes him to throw the device on the nearest soft surface, the couch, and sprinting towards the bathroom. it bounces off and clatters to the ground, but that's the least of his concerns right now.

his heart drops to his stomach when he spots you backed up into the corner, knees tucked under your chin as you clutch your phone, eyes wide.

"hey, hi, i'm here, look at me." he kneels down to face you, gloved hands gently cupping your cheek and pulling you into his side, "are you okay?"

your uncertain nods do little to soothe his nerves and his suspicions are confirmed when you cower deeper into his hold, "b-behind you izuku!"

there's no time to dwell, and speed at which he whips his head around almost puts his previous speed records to shame, fists bracing by his sides as he gently pushes you behind him. the sight before him stops him in his tracks though and he freezes, pausing comically as he spots the very thing that has you seized by fear.

a little spider no larger than the pad of his thumb, slowly crawling across the cool tiled floor towards the two of you.

izuku huffs out an amused breath, grabbing a piece of tissue and redirecting the creature's path, picking it up and bring it to the window. "go on then."

as it scurries away, he lets out a huge sigh of relief, dropping to his knees and visibly deflating as he pulls you into his arms, the tension leaving his body as quickly as it came. "oh my god, you scared me. i thought—i thought someone was hurting you."

he feels you bury your face further into the crook of his neck and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head in comfort, as if to affirm that it's okay when you mumble against his throat, "i'm sorry, you weren't home and i panicked..."

"you're alright, don't be sorry. i'm actually kind of glad you called." he continues with a cheeky smile when you peer up at him confused, "i was missing you all day, and i'm not technically at fault for leaving my post if it's because someone called for help right?"

with your giggles and a light slap to his chest, the last of his worries leaves his system as he cradles you, the both of you still in a heap on the bathroom floor. izuku has to head back to patrol soon, but for now he indulges in the feel of you against him, soft and pliant and no longer stiff with fear.

it's so silly to call a pro hero over something trivial like this, and he kisses you to shut you up when you apologise for the nth time. but he's your number one, and what's a hero if he doesn't ease the hearts of the people, his person? even if it's just over a little spider.

masterlist

tags: @saucejar @pinkopalfrost

© opulace. please do not repost, plagiarise, translate, or feed my work to ai.

[neckromantics]

You find that now Astarion’s able to feed regularly on “quality” blood, the stronger he becomes, and with that strength comes certain abilities he didn’t know he could possess.

In 5e, vampire spawn are supposed to be pretty strong and fast. (As well as possessing regenerative powers, and spider climb among a few other things.) So, what if Astarion’s lack of super strength and other such things is due to the way he was kept weakened under Cazador’s control?

Like maybe he’s recently fed and he feels especially great this time. Neither of you really think much of it. (You’re just happy he feels good. Happy to see the flush of pink at the tips of his ears and apples of his cheeks.) Maybe you’re in the middle of a fight and you get careless. You hear the swish of a blade at your back, but never feel an impact. You turn to see that Astarion’s saved your ass the only way vampire instinct knew how in that moment, which was to just reach out and grab your attacker’s sword before it could spill any of your precious blood. By the blade.

If he wasn’t wearing those special armored gloves you’d found a few days before he’d probably have lost a few fingers. The steel bends back in his grip as if it’s made of rubber, and there’s a very comical split second where your heads snap toward one another to share matching looks of “what the fuck??” Before the fighting continues.

MAYBE one day you watch the guy get stabbed. Like, impaled in a way that should have meant Withers is about to be dragged out here by his dusty ass robes to perform some quick resurrecting or else. It takes longer than you’d like to get free enough to make a break for him, but when you do you nearly knock poor Shadowheart on her ass in your hurry to pass. Every millisecond feels like an hour. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly that you can’t hear the scream of the creature before him as you take it down with a single blow.

In hindsight, you must have looked ridiculous. Overdramatic, even, considering you don’t have time to fuss over him as he lie bleeding like you assumed he would be. Your hands tremble in front of you as you watch him stand up from his crouched position. His pretty face is screwed up in a way that you first assumed meant great pain, but now you realize he’s just ? Surprised? Well, that makes two of you at least.

Astarion’s leather armor hits the dirt with a dull thud. With pursed lips and a bit of a hum, he’s lifting up the hem of his bloodied tunic. Pale fingers swipe thick crimson away from his belly to reveal the soft, unmarred skin that lay beneath. You nearly faint right then and there, and that asshole just laughs. Positively elated.

After a moment, a long moment, you start to laugh alongside him. It’s shaky with relief. Disbelief.

He plants a quick, cheeky kiss to the side of your head for your heroic efforts, anyway. You just learn to roll with it.

Maybe one day you walk into your room at the Elfsong, and nearly jump out of your skin when you find him sitting cross-legged on the ceiling. Just full on chilling, looking pleased as punch to have found something else he didn’t know was possible for him. You obviously just stand there and stare at him like ??? for a while. It’s endearing how happy he looks with that smug little smirk, pale curls wild and clothes sitting odd on his frame from the change in gravity.

When you ask, all he can really say is that it just kind of happened? That he very suddenly felt like being up, and logically that meant he should try crawling up the wall to satisfy that craving. He’d been up there for a couple hours before you showed up- even took a little bit of a rest to pass the time. You wish you were there to see his face when he found out- to hear the mad little giggles that spilled from his lips when he stood up from his scuttling and just hung upside down in disbelief because why in the hells didn’t he find out about this one sooner?

(Maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll bring you up there with him on his back just so you can see how strange everything looks from high up on the ceiling. Maybe you’ll use it as an opportunity to scare the ((figurative)) pants off of Gale when he eventually comes looking for you. Endless entertainment.)

Anyway, you feed the guy regular enough and I imagine there is so much to discover about him that the two of you will be entertained for years to come. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll wake up to a fluffy white bat flying circles around the ceiling of your bedroom, and at that point it won’t even be a real surprise to you.

[thatrandomidiot182]

VENOMOUS THINGS

Dear Diary,

How lame is this?

My therapist said that keeping a journal will help me not feel so... bleugh all the time. I think it's stupid, but hey! She's the professional... I think she's a professional, hard to tell with these apps nowadays...

Anyway, she said I should 'introduce myself,' even though no one but me is going to be reading this. Apparently, it will help me connect with myself and discover who I am??

Seriously, what the hell does that mean??

Whatever, let's just get this over with.

Dear Diary,

My name is — Muñoz (though, I guess now I should say Wayne :T), I'm currently nineteen years old, live in a shitty one bedroom apartment in the worst neighborhood in Gotham, New Jersey and work at the coffe shop called Molly's, which is half an hour away (with no car >:()

I grew up in the barrio in Queens, New York, graduated early and with honors from Alchemax School For The Gifted... and from the ages of thirteen to seventeen, I used to be New Yorks one and only friendly neighborhood Spider.

But that was before...

Before Gwen.

Before Norman and my Tia.

Before I found out about the multiverse...

Hell, it was even before I met my real dad for the first time!

Who, happens to be the one and only Bruce Wayne, aka the biggest asshole I've ever met!

And I've met Ximena!

You think the guy would feel some semblance of care for his spawn, especially when he's never met the kid and the mother of said spawn was just brutally murdered! But no! Apparently, concern and empathy are not in his vocabulary! At least, not when it comes to me...

Oh man, is that a whole 'nother page for a different day!

Anyway, I'm gonna call it here before I start getting all sappy and angry and stuff. I got to leave for work in a few minutes too...

But, yeah that's me! I don't really know what else to say besides... I still don't see the point of this.

[forsaken-headcanons]

Hey hello hi!! I see the askbox is open after an eternity/j

I have a lot of headcannons that are a bit scattered so I'm sosososo very sorry for the length and chaotic nature of this ask 😭 (doesn't help this is my first submission either) Anyways-

----

- Shedletsky teases/bothers all the survivors in various ways that he knows will make them react in some way (no malicious intent, just light hearted fun)

- Adding to above Shedletsky bothers and teases Builderman a ton, and Builderman has gotten so used to it he just responds with something equally absurd or silly in a deadpan way

- Builderman is just tired. I can imagine he has been working himself to the bone trying to figure out a way to get home or break out of the Spectre's realm so everyone can go home

- Chance is a Mama's boy. No further explanation needed.

- Noob has severe arachnophobia, to the point he can't stand the thought of a spider. They WILL tweak out

- 1337 accidentally responds to drills, Shedletsky found that out and now abuses it when he wants to bother him

- Shedletsky avian/winged truther, he has wings and will refuse to believe otherwise /j

- Elliot is Italian-American, getting his Italian roots from his dad and his mother was American

- Elliot looks a lot like his mother :]

- Taph was given bells so he can get people's attention when he is wanting to sign and they aren't looking at him (they tie around the wrists like bracelets)

- Builderman says "language" anytime someone curses, he can tolerate 'damn's and 'hell's but he doesn't like the overly colorful words

- Two Time has been caught carving the spawn symbol into the wooden furniture. on multiple occasions. They inadvertently give the survivors splinters by doing this.

- 1337 can project his voice very well

-----

Those are some more "major" headcannons I have,, plus I have a Builderman hc/angst, it's a lil lengthy because I need to explain my thoughts so apologies 😭

----

TW- Death mentions and pain sensitivity(?)

The basics? Builderman dying for the first time and the absolute horror that comes with it

Because I imagine Builderman having a very high pain tolerance/detatchment to feeling pre-forsaken due to his admin/godly status. With the Spectre stripping him of his power, he is completely vulnerable. Sensitive almost

And he is terrified, the feeling so wrong to him. It's overwhelming.

And it comes with the realization of how far he was detached from the robloxian people, how he was so far removed from sensations that they felt on a regular basis.

You could hit your arm and wince at it, be fine.

But for Builderman it's like someone was electrocuting him.

bonus points of Shedletsky being there to comfort him, I can imagine Shed getting forsaken before BM. And Shed most likely has more experience with the feelings due to sword fighting and all that

----

I'm so sorry for the wall of text and it being a little everywhere, I'm so tired rn and have been waiting for a bit for the askbox to open, I'm sorry 😭

----

Sincerely,

- 💐ColorWheel🛞 Anon

(if the name is available ofc)

shed you absolute menace 😭

oh god wait you're so right about the builderman one... what is pain to a being unused to its qualms? a mighty being reduced to a quivering mess after its first death– it's almost laughable. throws rocks at him. EAT SHIT /lovingly

[kalixora]

In every universe

Spawned on an city island, you shook your head and blinked furiously, disoriented by the sudden shift. The last thing you remembered was strolling through the city with Natasha, the two of you laughing about how weirdly quiet things had been lately. It was supposed to be a normal day—coffee, maybe lunch. Now, the sun was harsh above you, the air sticky with humidity, and your body was wrapped in your full hero suit like you’d been yanked into a mission mid-briefing.

“Tasha?” you called out, voice edged with confusion.

Her head whipped around, eyes narrowing. “You okay?”

You nodded, but the shock still clung to you. You both rushed toward each other across the uneven sand, boots kicking up wet clumps of earth and shattered webbing that stuck to the ground like old gum.

“What’s going on?” you asked, heart pounding.

“Not sure,” Natasha muttered, frowning as she scanned the eerie skyline. Tall, unfamiliar structures loomed in the distance—half skyscraper, half webbed nest—twisting into the clouds like something out of a nightmare. “Where the hell is this place?”

You turned slowly with her. The landscape was a chaotic fusion of nature and something else entirely—mutated. Hulking spider webs spanned between trees like bridges. Strange, twitching cocoons hung from branches. The skyline of what once looked like a city was warped—buildings overtaken by vines, spires crowned with chitinous webbed domes.

“Wait…” you breathed. “Is this Tokyo?"

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “But it so full of... glowing webs?"

“Maybe Tony made Peter his own island?" you muttered, your eyes catching something moving just beyond giant glass window—a flash of red and blue swinging from one web to the next.

And just like that, a distant thwip echoed in the room.

You and Natasha both turned sharply, instincts kicking in.

Spawning in again—just a few feet away from where you and Natasha stood—another figure shimmered into existence with a faint ripple of blue light and static crackle. The flooring beneath her boots shifted as she stumbled slightly, arms flailing to steady herself.

You blinked.

There, standing under the glare of the sun, was a face you didn’t know personally, but you definitely knew from somewhere else.

"Is that…" you pointed, eyes widening. "Luna Snow?"

"Who?" Nat raised an eyebrow, still in full spy-mode, though her stance eased just a little. "That supposed to mean something?"

You turned to her, half shocked. "Seriously? She’s a global Kpop star. Also has cryo powers... Tony's ringtone."

Before Natasha could answer, the woman in question turned to face the two of you, visibly confused but trying her best to smile through it. She brushed a loose lock of silvery-blue hair behind her ear, her stage outfit gleaming slightly under the sun’s harsh light.

"Oh! Hey there!" Luna called out, her voice melodic even when confused. "Um—do you guys know what’s going on? One minute I was rehearsing backstage, and then poof… now I’m here. And this is definitely not Seoul."

You stepped forward slightly, offering a hand. "No clue. Same thing happened to us. We were just walking through the city and then suddenly... here. In costume. On this really pretty city filled with golden webs..."

Luna hesitated for a moment, then accepted your hand with a firm but friendly grip. Her touch was cool—like holding polished glass.

“I’m [your name],” you said. “This is Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luna replied, then squinted at the horizon. “Wait a second, I think I know you guys."

Natasha crossed her arms. “You do?"

"Yeah, Y/N L/N right? With [your powers], and Black widow. You guys saved New York from those gooey monsters from another planet."

"Gooey monsters?" Nat tilted her head. "We fought in an alien invasion. Maybe were diffrent people in your universe or something?"

Just then, a sharp screech echoed from somewhere deeper in the jungle—high-pitched, fast, and definitely not human. You, Natasha, and Luna spun around at the sound, instincts flaring.

Something came barreling out of the tangled underbrush, weaving through web-wrapped trees like a missile.

It was… a shark.

Correction: a small, land shark, bounding full-speed on stubby legs, tail wagging behind him, and mouth open in a wide, toothy grin. His little fins flapped like arms as he zigzagged across the sand.

“Is can’t be happening…?” you blinked.

The shark spun in a circle, then sprinted toward your group—straight for you.

“Oh no—nope—no thank you—”

But it was too late.

The land shark launched into your arms like a missile, knocking you back a step before nuzzling against your chest like an overexcited puppy. You staggered, caught completely off-guard.

“He's licking my face—Nat, he's licking my—"

Natasha lowered her weapons, blinking. “Seriously, what the hell is going on?” She smiled as the shark calmly jumped from you to her.

Luna cooed softly at the little creature. "Aww, so cute! What’s your name, little sharky?"

Around the shark’s neck was a collar. Natasha gently grabbed the tag and read the name aloud.

"Jeff."

Spawning with a low hiss… and in walked a man with silver hair, a sweeping deep-red cloak, and a helmet that gleamed like it had never known dust.

Magneto.

He stepped out like he’d been expected, his eyes cool as he surveyed the group. The energy in the room shifted instantly — heavy, electric, reverent. Even the lights seemed to dim slightly around him.

"Ah," he said, his voice smooth but commanding. "Hello?"

"Hi there!" Luna smiled brightly. "The actual Magneto! Wow!"

"Yes, er—should I know who you are?" he asked, giving her a puzzled look.

"No," Luna shrugged. "But you should know that magnetism doesn’t work on super-cooled materials. Guess what I can do?"

"Be impertinent, it seems," he replied casually, looking past her toward you and Natasha.

"Ah. If it isn’t the Avengers — how wonderful."

“Magneto…” you hummed thoughtfully. “Y’know, I’ve actually never met him before,” you said to Nat. “Do you think Wanda would know him?”

Before Natasha could respond, Magneto turned toward you, chin lifting ever so slightly.

“Wanda is my daughter. Of course she would know me,” he said, his voice laced with pride. “For I am.”

He let the silence hang dramatically, cape shifting behind him like it had its own gravity.

Natasha gave you a look. “Well… that answers that.”

Magneto moved to the window, studying the glowing sprawl below. “Spider-Islands… a game, a trap, or perhaps a crucible. Regardless, something powerful is waiting at its center.”

Then — a pulse.

Soft, warm green light glowed from the far wall. A panel hissed open.

Everyone turned again, weapons halfway drawn… only to pause as a cluster of vines pushed through, growing rapidly from the base of the wall. Bioluminescent spores floated in the air, casting soft lights across your faces.

From the vines stepped a small, familiar figure — bark-skinned, with wide glowing eyes and a gentle hum of nature in his steps.

“I am Groot,” he said.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. "A talking tree.."

Jeff barked joyfully and ran straight to him, wagging his tail like crazy. Groot giggled and gave him a hug, vines wrapping around the little shark like old friends reunited after lifetimes apart.

Luna laughed softly. “Okay, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Even Natasha’s stoic expression cracked into a small smile.

Magneto observed Groot silently, then nodded. “Odd."

“Okay—are there any more people that are gonna show up, or is it just us?” Luna asked with a nervous laugh.

“Hey there!”

“AH!” Luna screamed, nearly jumping out of her boots.

A woman’s voice giggled in response. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you there, Luna.”

Luna blinked. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, I know all your names,” the voice replied cheerfully. “Duh! I’m in charge of the multiverse. Like, the coolest job ever.”

You glanced at Natasha, who mouthed What the hell?

“Anyway,” the mystery girl continued, her voice practically sparkling, “I’ll keep it short! When the doors open, there’ll be objectives for you to complete. You’ll be facing off against familiar and unfamiliar faces.”

The room’s lights flickered in time with her words, casting an eerie glow across the floor.

“Each side that wins gets bumped higher in rank,” she added, chipper as ever. “And once you hit that mark? You’re free to go!”

Then silence.

As if she’d never been there at all.

Jeff growled lowly.

“…Did anyone else get Hunger Games flashbacks, or just me?” you muttered.

A low rumble filled the floor beneath you, followed by the mechanical clank of massive doors unlocking.

“But there’s a catch,” she continued. “You have to stay near the vehicle to keep it moving. If you wander too far, it’ll slow down… and eventually roll backwards.”

A beat passed.

“And if that happens? The other team wins, ranks up, and you—well, you stay stuck.”

A loud buzz signaled the end of the announcement, followed by flashing arrows pointing toward the now-open exit.

“Doors opening in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!”

The doors slammed open with a mechanical whoosh, revealing the path ahead. Beyond the threshold, the island stretched out before you—vast, full of winding paths and towering obstacles.

And there, sitting in the distance, was the vehicle: a massive, sleek, futuristic transport, humming with low, pulsing energy.

The six of you stepped out the doors, all of you unsure of what to actually do. The moment you hesitated, a flash of light shot toward you.

You gasped and quickly stepped back, just as the light slammed into the wall behind you with a resounding crack.

Charging forward, you caught a glimpse of a young woman with yellow-blonde hair, her black outfit sleek and aerodynamic, like it was made for speed. She moved with precision, her eyes locked on your group, exuding confidence and power.

“Illyana,” Magneto warned, his voice steady but commanding. Without hesitation, he raised his hand, and an invisible force knocked her back, sending her stumbling.

“Get to the vehicle,” he ordered, his eyes narrowing as he focused on her. “I’ll handle the Darkchild.”

Running ahead, you were suddenly shoved to the side, your body slamming into the side of a nearby building with a harsh thud. You grunted, dazed for a moment, your head spinning as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of footsteps echoed nearby, and you quickly snapped your gaze up to meet your attacker.

Standing in front of you, arms crossed and eyes sharp, was Bucky Barnes. His face was hard, eyes narrowed with a familiar intensity, but something about him seemed different. Your breath hitched, lips parting as you took a step back, unsure whether to brace yourself for a fight or try to talk your way out of it.

"Is it... you?" you muttered under your breath, fingers flexing at your sides, wondering if he was the Bucky you knew or someone from another universe, a version of him twisted by a different fate. The memories of your Bucky flashed in your mind—his smirks, his soft side that only you got to see, his pain that mirrored your own at times. But now, there was nothing soft about him. Was this Bucky still capable of those quiet moments of warmth, or was he lost to something far darker?

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared at you with that familiar gaze—yet colder now, as if you were a stranger to him.

"Y/N?"

You nodded, your heart pounding as you took a tentative step closer. Without thinking, your hand reached out, fingers trembling, as if you could bridge the gap between you and the version of him standing in front of you.

But the moment your fingers neared his arm, he pulled back swiftly, stepping out of your reach like an instinctive reaction. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—anger? Fear? Regret?

"Don’t," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper, but filled with weight. "You don’t know me."

The words hit harder than you expected. It wasn’t just a warning—it felt like a barrier he was building, keeping you at a distance. His eyes softened for a second, and you saw the familiar pain in them.

You let out a bitter chuckle, the sound carrying a mix of pain and disbelief. "You sought me out before I could reach the real fight," you said, your words laced with a sharp irony. "My Bucky always did that too."

A brief flicker of something—recognition, maybe, or even a hint of guilt—flashed across his face. He took a step back, eyes shifting uneasily, as if your words had hit too close to something he'd buried. The Bucky you knew, the one you had once loved and fought alongside, always had a way of showing up at the most unexpected times, protecting you before you could make your own move. Always trying to keep you safe from the dangers that loomed ahead.

He exhaled sharply, as if your words had caught him off guard. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he glanced down at the ground.

"When you're low, come here. I'll guard you," Bucky said, his voice low but steady, as he gently reached out and touched the side of your face. His touch was soft, almost tentative, like he was afraid you'd pull away—or maybe like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to be this close to you again.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to stop, the air between you thick with unspoken emotions. His hand, warm and familiar, lingered on your cheek, the simple gesture bringing back memories of all the times he had done the same, when everything felt easier, when you both knew where you stood. But now, with everything that had changed, it was different. There was a tension in the air, like both of you were trying to figure out if there was still a place for that tenderness in this new reality.

Your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his touch—this Bucky, from whatever universe or path he had come, was still the one you knew in some way, the one you remembered. And yet, the distance between you was greater than ever before.

His thumb gently brushed over your skin, his eyes searching yours for something—maybe a sign that it was okay, that it was still you he was touching. And maybe it was—maybe the Bucky you knew still existed somewhere beneath the hardened surface, just waiting to be reached.

[ctrlhope]

— Rest, Relax, Reserve ⊹ Series M.List

⭔ : Welcome in! Here at the Humbolt Insect Hybrid Conservation Park, we implore all of our guests to experience the wonderful world of hybrids living in their natural habitats! Feel free to interact with any hybrids that may approach you— however, please keep in mind that this is a no-touch park, these are wild animals after all. Please stay safe, stick to the trails, and enjoy your stay!

Please note: we are not responsible for any risks associated with entering our parks. Keep this in mind when exploring.

Information Board

⭔ : warning! most stories on this list are yandere-themed, meaning they may have elements of dark content in them. all have mature content within them as well. please read all warnings before reading each one!

⭔ : a/n! this series has spawned from my entomology class this semester! so enjoy a lot of useless facts about arthropods while falling in love with hybrid bts <33

⭔ : status! ongoing -> last update: Chasing Tornados

Looking for a sneak peak of the stories? Click here!

Kim Seokjin

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: blue morpho butterfly

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, lepidoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Chasing Tornados ⊹ Min Yoongi

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: fattail scorpion

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, arachnida, scorpiones

-> Ever since you were young, you found solstice in the clouds. Found haven in their winding winds, their chilling storms. Monsters of the air meant to destroy became your love— your safety. You know everything about the skies, yet you only want to know more about him. Wish for him to love you just as much as you do him. Your best friend. Your scorpion. Your impossible. Your Yoongi.

Jung Hoseok

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: warrior wasp

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Kim Namjoon

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: honey bee

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

The Pitfalls of Silk ⊹ Park Jimin

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: cobalt blue tarantula

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, arachnida, aranea

-> The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same.

— bites: 01

Kim Taehyung

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: domestic silk moth

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, lepidoptera

-> coming soon . . .

Jeon Jungkook

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: black garden ant

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

⭔ : disclaimer: all members of bts are face and name claims for all works on this blog. the pieces on this blog are entirely fictional and are in no way meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. any representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[pixelartpeach]

mirrored viconia theory? do tell :3

Okay, so a lot of people have been calling Larian's Viconia out as being out-of-character compared to her BG2 characterization.

For context for people that don't know her outside of BG3:

Viconia abandoned Lolth because she was ordered to kill a baby and refused, losing her entire house's favor with the Spider Queen, which is DISASTROUS in Menzoberranzan. Her mom desperately tried to get her to apologize to Lolth, but she refused, and mom was going to have her taken away to be sacrificed until her brother killed her mom to save her. Then she fled the Underdark and turned to Shar.

Said brother got drider'd, btw.

She went to the surface, became a sex slave, slaveowner had a heart attack and everyone thought she killed him, so she fled THAT, went off and managed to get a little homestead for herself in the countryside, had a neighbor that she THOUGHT was a friend, but kept herself hooded from so he wouldn't find out she was a drow.

Friend figured it out anyways and had his sons TORTURE HER AND BURY HER ALIVE.

God's favorite princess poorest little meow meow.

Anyways.

If you don't romance her in BG2, her ending epilogue is this:

"No longer with [main character], Viconia went on to found a cult dedicated to Shar in the city of Waterdeep. One of her followers betrayed her, however, prompting the slaughter of the whole tainted lot. Shar admonished Viconia strongly for this, but she was unrepentant and again wandered the Realms. Viconia was still formidable, and went on to prevent an attempt by the Knights of the Shield to take over Calimport, even worked with Drizzt Do'Urden to save the elven city of Suldanessalar from a Zhentarim plot. For this last act, the elves accepted her, and Queen Ellesime bestowed the highest honors of the Seldarine, an accolade never before given to one of her dark kind. Viconia reportedly bowed without emotion, and then left. Her fate remains unknown."

Not something that would point to her returning to Baldur's Gate, let alone doing so to become the Mother Superior we get to see.

However, in BG3, she says this:

Which is more trustworthy? The word of a Sharran? Or the word-of-god narration of an epilogue?

Then we've got this conversation @anderstrevelyan found:

I want to circle back around to Astarion for a second. We all know the song and dance with Cazador, but Cazador was also in Astarion's place; everything Cazador inflicted on his spawn, his own master, Vellioth, inflicted on him.

You can actually find remnants of Vellioth in Cazador's evil basement. Copied from the bg3 wiki:

Vellioth's first lesson is always to dominate. Allow none to be your equal

When Cazador tried to speak with an old friend, Vellioth drained the friend dry while he watched as punishment.

Vellioth's second lesson is that power comes from solitude. To share with others is to be weak, and to be weak is to fail ... and die.

When Cazador rebelled against Vellioth, he had him impaled for 11 years - for his failure.

Vellioth's third lesson is to act not in haste. A near immortal has time to plan, time to act, only when others will pay the price of action

When Cazador had learned all his lessons, he killed Vellioth in The Rite of Perfect Slaugher while they both laughed.

BG3 has a huge theme of abuse, but most specifically, the cycles of it. So many of its villains took the abuse they endured and inflicted it on others. So many of the "bad" endings are the companions perpetuating that cycle themselves.

Gortash was sold to the Hells, to Raphael. He then sold Karlach.

Cazador was tormented as a spawn. He then tormented his own spawn.

Shadowheart was controlled by a cult. She then becomes the head controller of said cult.

And so on.

Back to Viconia.

I believe that the BG2 epilogue did happen as said. Viconia started a Sharran cult in Waterdeep. They betrayed her, so she slaughtered them. Then she went off and helped Drizzt Do'Urden save a city, and got accolades no drow has ever gotten.

My mirror theory:

Viconia was caught by Sharrans after all this. After she got her "happy ending." No one knows her fate, the epilogue said.

I think, as punishment for leaving her cult behind, Shar sent her faithful after Viconia, took her to the mirror, and molded her back into a loyal pawn, making her forget everything but the bitterness that turned her towards Shar, and fed lies about what really happened in Waterdeep.

Maybe she knows she was mirrored at some point. Maybe she doesn't. But she's starting to slip again, like Shadowheart was—she's disobeying Shar's teachings by going for the artifact, and strikes at Shadowheart in what she sees as a betrayal, which has to ring scarily familiar to her after Waterdeep. And it would put SUCH a tragic layer onto her that she can't escape the cycle herself, just like Orin and Ketheric couldn't, because the gods have made her a pawn in their larger game.

And maybe that's why she used the mirror so much, even when that would have undone any good to turn Shadowheart towards Shar (via @trappedinafantasy37). Mirrors fix what's broken in Shar's eyes. Right?

Anyways, I think that's the direction Larian would have gone if they'd had enough time to flesh out all of Act 3. You can see the bits and pieces of stories they wanted to craft all over that city.

[pizza-let-loose]

"Who knew being the monster would be so Freeing!"

Killer Elliot Rp, ask Blog

Characters on the blog: Elliot, 007n7, Chance and c00lkidd (new characters will be added eventually)

"Elliot speaks like this"

"007n7 speaks like this"

"C00lkidd speaks like this"

"Chance speaks like this"

"Ace speaks like this and only speaks in meps"

"118o8 will speak like this"

(mod will speak like this)

______________________________________________________________

Headcannons are used

Extra info: C00lkidd is not a killer he still has has powers from being a killer.

I put 4 dots on a asks for anon to anon communication that I got nothing to add too

______________________________________________________________

Blogs that are in the same universe

Survivor 1 x- @1xs-fragility

Killer taph - @demolitionists-hell

Survivor Mafioso - @mafia-caged-in

Survivor Jason - @mothers-little-boy

Survivor Pretty princess - @thepr3tiestprincess

Vanity @the-butchers-vanity

Killer jane doe @a-killers-love

Noil @a-tragedy-of-lucid-returns

______________________________________________________________

Tags:

Fellow killers: Any Killers rp blog

Fresh meat: Any survivor Rp blog

New meat: Anons/ new users

Rotting meat: Returning anons/users

The boss: Spector blogs

Rules

DO NOT Sent photos or links in my Ask box, you ill be instantly BLOCKED! Unless your a mutual

DO NOT bring drama into my blog DO NOT sat anything NSFW mild jokes are allowed. If you are inappropriate to C00lkidd you will be blocked DNI if under 13, Homophobic, transphobic, a map, a terf, Racist, pedo, or my step dad If there is an Animal M!A active DO NOT injure the character(s) effected by the M!A you will be Blocked! DO NOT cause harm or attempt to Ace, You will be BLOCKED BE NICE to the mod, I am try to keep a schedule for the most part, Don't ask me invasive questions (i will be inactive on Wednesdays) I can't belive I had to make this a rule. Be nice in the Inbox. You can be mean to most of the muses all you want but be nice to the mod. I've already gotten way to many rude asks

ANONS : 126

(Refences under the cut too)

nnm , mnubbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbv anon (This is the anon my dog made by putting her paw onto my keyboard)

dropkick anon

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evil anon

grass anon

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the anon unknown

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fat ass anon 😋

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anon (with a notepad)

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backup anon

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spiral creature 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 anon

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multi fandom anon

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< Anon >

sheep anon

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pizza hating anon

salad anon

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Cup of Dry on Wet Floor Anon

👾 anon/ Scrunchie Anon

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nice voice in c00lk1ds head :D anon

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New anon ✨✨✨

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evil voice anon

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yutongzk6122hd9

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lime crow

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Sunglasses Anon

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007e7 anon

Magpie anon 🤑

motherly anon

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🪽🗡 Two Time, cult of the Spawn

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→•In-game∆anon•←

fireworks anon

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generous anon

🦵 anon

-[ERR=ANON NOT FOUND]

🍋‍🟩 anon

Jester Anon

anon of unspecified origins

the M,C

Chance torturing anon

_____________________________________________________________

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

I already need Spider's reaction to Quaritch in Ash's Na'vi outfit or his potential romance with Varang, I can imagine the WTF look on his face - do you have any ideas how this might play out?

Okay this is so unserious and in no way how I actually think this will play out. Honestly I doubt they’ll show Spider reacting much because Quaritch in his war paint is most likely the climax of the movie. There will be to much going on for Spider to comment on his dad’s new look. But in my silly little brain, this happens:

——————————————————————————————————————————————-

Fires raged all around, camouflaging their enemy. Spider stood at the ready with his crossbow, looking around frantically for any hint of an attack. Then out of the smoke two figures emerged. On the left was Varang, grinning wickedly. On the right was his father.

Quaritch smiled at the sight of him. Spider couldn’t help it. He laughed straight in his face. “What the hell are you wearing!”

Quaritch bristled, “what? It’s the war paint of the Mangkawn.” Spider kept on howling, crushing his father's confidence. “I thought I looked cool.”

“More like you look like a tool!”

Varang snarled, “you allow your spawn to speak to you like this.”

“No. Boy’s gonna get one hell of an ass whippin’ when we take him home.”

Spider scoffed, “oh really? You're gonna take me to your home so we can play happy family with your new girlfriend.”

Quaritch went redder than his face paint. “She’s not my girlfriend!”

Spider brushed this off, “is she gonna dress me up like you?”

“She didn’t dress me! I dressed myself!”

“I know I’ll look good in red but I’m sure as hell not getting the baldy special like her.”

Varang lunged at him but Quaritch held her back. “He’s just a punk ass kid,” Quaritch pleaded, “we’ll set him straight.” Spider turned tail and booked it away. Quaritch quickly shoved Varang out of his way and raced after him.

[minkdelovely]

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter one

“don’t call me by my name.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: descriptions of reader’s demon form, Alastor uses the chain and withholding your breakfast as punishment, Alastor takes pleasure in your fear, power dynamics, reader worries over being punished, lecherous demons in an alley, non-consensual grab and lick of the face, graphic violence, murder, blood, teeth as a weapon, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.5k

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Why didn’t you bring me a boy to play with?” Niffty pouted, her little foot stomping the carpet. 

She hadn’t been pleased when Alastor broke the news that he had acquired a new maid to help her out around the hotel, and glared at you past his legs. He laughed, seeming to enjoy her tantrum. You still weren’t sure how to feel about this Demon who had taken over your contract. While he had been pleasant enough at the Emporium after Rosie signed you over, he hadn’t spoken a word to you while leading you through the streets of Hell to bring you here. 

“I’m afraid you’ve answered your own question, Niffty dear. Had I brought you a toy, I’m not so sure you’d sustain your productivity. Which is precisely why I brought help.” He turned to look back at you for the first time then, your chest tightening from the eye contact. Alastor maintained contact as he continued, “Sylvie will maintain my quarters for now so as not to take away from your duties, but once the hotel gets busier I expect you to play nice and share. Besides, she’ll need training before we just let her loose around the hotel! We have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

He smirked at you and broke his gaze, pivoting to make his way up the stairs. Before the others could get a chance to come talk to you, an invisible tug was at your neck and you hurried to catch up with Alastor.

“I’ll show Sylvie to her room so she can settle in,” Alastor said loud enough for everyone, still facing forward as he continued up the staircase.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That had been a week ago.

Everyone else had been fairly welcoming, Charlie being the kindest. She and her girlfriend Vaggie had made the most effort getting to know you, which made sense being they were in charge of the hotel. Though he wasn’t rude, Husker only spoke to you in short quips. You tried not to dwell on the pity in his eyes any time you crossed by the bar in the lobby.

Angel Dust had been nice too, the few times you had managed to see him and always at the bar, joking amicably that you could almost pass as twins despite quite obvious differences. He was a decent amount taller and slimmer than you for starters. Hell seemed to have turned him into a spider of sorts, and if you had to take a guess, you had spawned here as some kind of milky-colored reptile. No scales, but there was a faint pearlescent pattern of something close to that covering your neck, back, and extremities. 

It was still jarring to see your reflection in the mirror. There were parts you still recognized, though even those features had felt Hell’s touch. To your relief, your face still looked more or less the same. Nearly Human passing, until your newly-added nictitating membrane blinked right-to-left. Though your red pupils and pink sclera were also a dead giveaway (haha, get it?). Something you weren’t sure you’d ever adjust to, but hey, you earned it right?

You had just finished getting into the black collared dress Alastor demanded you wore for work when a dark shadow pooled under your feet. Complete darkness and seconds later, you were standing in the parlor of Alastor’s suite. 

“[Y/N],” Alastor’s low, static voice lingered on it, red eyes boring into you. Something he had gleaned very quickly in the week was how unsettled you got when he used your real name, and enjoyed the opportunities to use it. “I find tardiness to be an irksome trait. Do not make it a habit. Am I understood?”

You fought a grimace, loathing his condescension. The Radio Demon’s smile threatened to tear as he watched you struggle to maintain composure. You hadn’t succeeded completely, but you were making some progress.

“Well?” he goaded.

“Yes, sir,” you managed to say evenly, hands fidgeting behind your back.

You knew better now than to play into his tricks. He was trying to get you to react, a sport he took great pleasure in succeeding at. So when he wasn’t ordering you around, he was complaining about the look on your face. Sullen, petulant, ghastly, he had used all kinds of names. And when you had gotten cheeky with him about it on your second day after hours of scrubbing the area rug in his room that he had dirtied on purpose…

The slight ache in the back of your neck served as a reminder of that. Sadistically, the chain was the only true cold you’ve felt since spawning in Hell and it seemed to burn more than acid rain. It wasn’t hard to remember the weight of it, the sweaty feeling of it on your skin. Alastor had enjoyed it all immensely. 

Denying him his fun in pissing you off probably wasn’t good in the long term, but you had to toe the line in order to find the limit. You wanted to learn as much as you could about the creature who owned you. Eternity was never-ending, but learning how to cope was all you could try to do. Being moved to this hotel had turned out to be a true blessing all things considered, so if navigating Alastor’s moods and demands was the price, you would have to pay it.

“Good!” The expression on Alastor’s face quickly relaxed into a more pleasant one. “Now hurry up and run into town to fetch my dry cleaning, and bring me something from that new butcher shop. I’ll leave it to you to decide, I so love surprises! Skipping breakfast will serve as your warning for being tardy. See you in an hour, dear.”

With that, he disappeared before you in a quick melt of shadow.

He was so. Fucking. Annoying. But you wouldn’t risk throwing a tantrum. For all you knew, he was still somewhere in the room, and honestly, you didn’t have time to waste. The walk from here to Cannibal Town was about twenty minutes and Alastor had summoned you before you had been able to put on your shoes, a five-minute setback at least. He had also made no mention of how you were expected to pay for any of this… 

Time to perform a fucking miracle, you thought to yourself, and made your way for the door.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor watched as you took a deep breath and smoothed your pale pink hair before leaving his room. The small click of the door locking echoed in the silence. He re-materialized near the large window that faced the city, grinning when he finally saw you walking off the premises at a hurried pace. You were so close to coming loose, so close to breaking that unbecoming pout. How he loathed it. He would rid you of the self-pity you wallowed in, even if it drove you to madness. A chuckle escaped him at the thought.

When you spoke back to him last week it had been such a thrill. Alastor closed his eyes, reliving the memory. He had allowed himself a moment to enjoy your insolence before inverting it to fear. Now that was a face he could get used to. The cold sweat on your skin, your red-pink eyes wide with shock. The sound of your hands and knees hitting the floor was music to his ears! Though he would never forget the gasp that caught in your throat from the shock.

He didn’t even need to raise his voice when he told you never to speak to him that way again, a direction you had perhaps taken too much to heart. Then again, you didn’t come across as a fighter. No, you were much too apathetic for that, at least for now.

And you had smelled so lovely in your fear. The usual floral sweetness of your scent had turned warm and nutty. For a moment he was certain he had picked up a hint of bitterness before you had mouthed off, but it disappeared so quickly once you were frightened that he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he wanted to smell it again.

With some luck, that would be quite soon; a little over an hour now if all goes according to plan. The Radio Demon had never expected you to return within the given timeframe.

Setting you up to fail wasn’t fair, but it was certainly fun.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Donner’s Butchery had been absolutely packed, but you managed to purchase the last available pound of liver. Their selection had been so low that you were more concerned with walking out of there without anything at all. Whether or not Alastor would enjoy it was a matter reserved for your return, though you hoped he would since you had to open a tab to get it. 

Thankfully, the dry cleaning had been settled upfront so you were actually starting to feel a little optimistic about making it back in time. In fact, you were now determined to be back in time out of spite. Imagining the veiled irritation on Alastor’s face when you arrived within the hour kept you distracted from the hunger pain in your stomach, and your pace subconsciously picked up. The high was short-lived though once your mind wandered to what other tasks Alastor would surely have lined up once you handed him his clothes and liver.

And what if he hated liver? You were in such a hurry that you didn’t even know what kind it was if he asked about it, which he probably would if only to watch you squirm trying to answer. The hotel wasn’t too far off now and you stepped into an alley to search the bag for a receipt, hoping that the butcher had been thorough enough to write it down. You found the receipt taped to the butcher paper, the words DEER LIVER scribbled with thick, black marker. 

“Thank god,” you sighed quietly, relieved to have peace of mind and placed it back in the bag. You were just about to step back onto the sidewalk when you heard laughter behind you.

“God ain’t here, sweetheart. Haven’t you noticed?”

You turned to see two demons, already standing much closer to you than you’d like. In your desperation to check the bag, you hadn’t heard them approaching. Something that should have embarrassed you, given the sour smell wafting off their clothes, but there wasn’t time for that. You took a quick glance at the clocktower.

Five minutes.

Of course it was… Even if you ran, you’d probably only get to the gate at best and knowing Alastor, that wouldn’t count.

“You got somewhere to be? Hand over the bag and maybe we’ll let you go,” the taller one continued, his plump sidekick snickering, both moving to cage you in.

God damn it… You were so close. So fucking close. Not only that, but were you were hungry and exhausted. All you had done this week was try your best to manage Alastor’s impossible expectations for what? An easier eternity? The creeps standing near you were right, God wasn’t here. This is Hell. Suffering eternal. 

The sanctuary you thought you’d found at the hotel was anything but. Its promise of redemption was the dangling carrot, always just out of reach. A sick joke, just like everything else here. Not that you had ever planned to be redeemed, you knew why you were here, but living in the hotel had lulled you into a false sense of security. Hell wasn’t clean and filled with mild-mannered sinners.

“Look at that, she’s fucking crying!” the plump demon laughed, bringing you back to the moment. “You’ve always liked ‘em scared, Donny.”

The tall one, apparently called Donny, shot his arm out to block you from leaving, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. “Is he right, baby? You scared?”

You could feel your heart in your throat. Scared? You were pissed. And when Donny grabbed your face and boldly licked a tear off your cheek, you snapped.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The Radio Demon had been hard at work tuning Vaggie out for the last few minutes. He was aimlessly wandering the lobby when she cornered him, seeming to have finally found her opportunity to interrogate him over acquiring your soul. It would have been easy enough to tell the disgraced Angel that it was the least he could do considering the help Rosie had provided them, but upsetting Vaggie was simply too much fun.

She was droning on about how she and Charlie would be taking over the onboarding of any more new employees when Alastor felt a chain rattle, ear flicking in response. Some fool was messing with his property. He reached out mentally to follow the chain and soon caught the scent of almond. He grimaced. Of course it was yours.

“As much as I cherish our conversations, I’ll need to cut this short Vaggie. I’m afraid duty calls,” Alastor said smugly, grinning at the rage on her face from being so casually brushed off before slipping into shadow.

When Alastor materialized in an alley he was met with piercing screams, and it took him a moment to register what he was seeing. You were on the ground straddling the waist of some poor soul, your face covered in blood as you tore out your victim’s neck with your teeth. The creature in question no longer seemed to have much left of the lower half of his face, the remnants of it no doubt lying somewhere in the gore. His death rattle was nothing more than a gurgle and spurt of blood, but it seemed you were too lost in your rampage to notice he was now motionless beneath you.

Alastor didn’t bother with the pudgy creature that had no doubt been your victim’s friend. Well, perhaps not a very good friend, seeing as the coward ran away once he regained his footing. Besides, it wouldn’t be difficult to track the cretin down if Alastor changed his mind about it later.

For now, his focus was on you and what a glorious sight it was. He wished for a moment that your dress had been a different color, just to see how much blood and scraps of flesh had soaked into it. Judging from the mess on your face, it had to be quite a lot.

The sounds coming from you were savage, nearly carnal, and you were relentless in your attack despite the damage already done. When would you stop, he wondered. When there was nothing but bone? The aspect thrilled him to the core and he sniffed deeply, taking in the scent of blood and almond. There it was — that delicious, bitter, nutty warmth. He had been right. Letting out a satisfied, pleasured sigh, he waited patiently for you to finish. After a minute or so you succeeded in decapitating the fool, and Alastor made his approach as you struggled to catch your breath. 

Gingerly tapping you once with his foot, you startled with a growl and snapped your teeth. Alastor let out a low chuckle, taking in the wild look of your face, eyes glowing pink.

“I believe he’s had enough for now, dear. You made good work of him, I’m quite impressed,” he said, giving you a proud smile. “Now let’s get you home before you cause a scene.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

[mechncheese]

I got possessed by this idea after seeing prowl duct taped to the ceiling but- 🫠

Brainstorm makes smth that lets him stand on the ceiling so Prowl walks into the room and just sees him standing on the ceiling Spider-Man style and he just. closes the door.

I think brainstorm would abuse that invention so much tho and I like to think Wheeljack is in danger after calling him a pet scientist 🤷‍♀️

also how dare you turn me into another repair shipper I’m already suffering in rarepair hell 😭

(Jokes aside I love this AU so much)

May I pretty please draw your AU Prowlstorm 🥺

BAHAHA it’s like how Brainstorm hangs upside down in MTMTE, it’s part of his genius process

SORRY I ACCIDENTALLY SPAWNED A PAIR SO RARE THAT IT’S PRACTICALLY NONEXISTENT, you may absolutely draw science cont prowlstorm, go my scarabs

[moonselune]

Heyyyy, so I'm into really stranger things rn, whoops, but what about the companions reacting to a super buff gn!Tav who is holding back some big enemy, like one of the minotaurs or a steel watcher or something, with their bare hands to give the companions time to escape? If you've seen stranger things, then it's the scene from season 3 with the spider monster and Billy in Starcourt mall that I'm inspired by lol. Whether or not Tav dies is up to you, I just think it'd be interesting

heyyyyy nonnie, so I actually have not watched it but my friend is so she helped me with this one for the vibe, so if its not right we blame her (affectionately)

BG3 Party | Go

The Steel Watcher’s footsteps were like the aftershocks of some long-dead god's wrath.

Each one cracked through the brittle bones of the ruined temple, shaking the shattered pillars and raining stone dust from above like gray snow. The ceiling was a jagged wound torn open to the blood-red dusk, the sky roiling with smoke and arcane afterburn. The Watcher shoved its titanic form through the arched corridor, claws ripping into ancient stone, casting molten sparks that hissed as they hit your skin.

Wyll was bleeding, one hand pressed to his ribs, gritting his teeth to keep from groaning. Shadowheart was beside him, her limp worsening with every step, but she didn’t let go of him. Gale’s robes were singed, magic fizzling in his palms as panic made his usually methodical hands tremble. Lae’zel growled low, spitting blood to the ground and shifting into a fighter’s stance—despite the gash along her flank still seeping crimson. Karlach had taken a blow meant for Astarion, and now the vampire spawn was half-dragging her toward the breach in the rubble that led out—muttering every curse he knew and probably inventing a few more.

There was no time. Not with that thing charging. Not with the ceiling threatening collapse. Not with the way your friends were barely standing. And there was only one of you left upright between the Steel Watcher and the companions you loved like family.

You took a step forward.

“Go.” Your voice cracked like thunder across the chaos, cutting through groans and coughing and the whine of bent metal like a divine command.

They didn’t listen.

Of course they didn’t.

“No—absolutely not!” Shadowheart snapped, panic painted over her features. “We stay together!”

“Tav, don’t be a fool!” Gale shouted, and despite the fear in his voice, it still carried that sharp, academic scolding tone. “There’s no tactical advantage in martyrdom!”

“You will not die while I still draw breath!” Lae’zel snarled, teeth bared like a cornered beast. “Stand aside, I will strike it down myself if I must!”

“I just got these ribs fixed, Tav!” Karlach groaned from the floor. “You are not going out without me.”

Astarion’s voice rang clear over the bickering, laced with fury. “You absolute meat-headed idiot! You can’t punch a Steel Watcher to death!”

Then the Steel Watcher screeched. The sound was like a war horn forged in the depths of the Nine Hells. A claw the size of a wagon wheel arced down toward you with enough force to level a building—

And you caught it.

You caught it. With your bare hands.

The impact split the stone under your boots, your knees buckled for a moment—but you didn’t fall. Every muscle in your body screamed, tendons taut like drawn bowstrings. Sparks burst along your forearms as magic surged unbidden through you, skin burning with the contact of raw steel and searing heat.

But you held.

You held.

A gasp echoed behind you.

“You’re insane,” Gale breathed, his voice raw with disbelief.

“GO!” you roared, voice cracking like a whip. “Get out of here!”

“I will not leave you!” Lae’zel shouted, charging forward—but Karlach, of all people, snagged her arm and yanked her back.

“No,” Karlach hissed, voice tight with pain. “No. We have to go. They’re buying us time.”

Lae’zel screamed in rage.

“You’re a beautiful dumbass,” Karlach croaked. “I hate that this is working.”

“Get them out, Karlach,” you grunted, feet sinking a half inch deeper into the stone with every second. “That’s an order.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Astarion shouted. “You don’t get to die and leave us with her!” He gestured to Lae’zel, who snarled. “We’ll kill each other!”

Wyll’s voice finally broke through it all—hoarse, barely a whisper: “We’ll come back. I swear to you, we’ll come back for you.” His eyes were glassy. “Just—please. Don’t die while I’m not looking.”

You didn’t reply. Couldn’t. Your hands were blistering from the heat. The Watcher reeled back, preparing another strike. You dug your boots in, every vein in your body bulging as you forced it back an inch—just enough to shield the escape path behind you.

And then—finally—they ran.

Lae’zel had to be dragged, her screaming replaced by an eerie, guttural growl. Astarion practically carried Karlach. Gale tossed one last orb of protective shielding over you. Shadowheart looked back three times. Wyll didn't look back at all—his jaw set like stone, his hands white-knuckled at his sides.

You caught a last glimpse of their retreating silhouettes, disappearing into the fractured light, vanishing beyond the smoke and ash-choked exit.

And for one small second—

You smiled. It wasn’t pride. It wasn’t even courage. It was peace. Peace in knowing they’d live. That maybe this was your part to play.

The Watcher roared again. You squared your shoulders. Blood ran into your eye from a split brow, the air thick with the scent of ozone and your own burning skin. You looked up at the steel titan that dwarfed you. Met its glowing eyes with your own.

“Let’s dance,” you murmured.

Its claw came down again, and the temple lit up in a final, blinding blast of red light—

And then—

Silence.

Outside the ruins, the companions collapsed in a heap beyond the rubble, panting, bleeding, staring at the collapsed temple behind them.

“Tav…” Wyll whispered.

“Don’t,” Shadowheart murmured.

“I should have stayed,” Lae’zel hissed.

“You’d be dead,” Karlach rasped. “We all would be.”

Something fluttered down from the smoke.

A single piece of charred cloth. A feather, scorched around the edges. A dented coin once tied to your belt. Gale knelt and picked it up with shaking hands. Astarion turned away, shoulders stiff.

“I’m going back,” Wyll said suddenly. “Tonight. As soon as I can stand.”

“No,” Karlach replied, still staring at the ruins. “We’re going back.”

They didn’t know if you were alive. If you were buried beneath the rubble or standing in the heart of a crater, laughing like a lunatic. But they’d come for you.

Whatever was left.

Because that was the kind of person you were—the kind of love you gave.Unbreakable. Immovable.

Even when the world itself tried to crush you.

this was so fun to write and a nice break from the world. I will give you guys a heads up and say my inbox is a mess things are deleting itself then reappearing, messages are coming in multiples of five, it is basically on fire, so please be patient with me. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this, love you all! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[credus99-blog]

Aggression/ Danger to humans: Low – Low

Element/ Ailment: None

The Moss Crab or Josljësj Rhäm (Yoslyoesh Rawm), meaning “water-spider of moss” in Dhënuvgöm, is a species of Anthropod (Arthropods that have evolved internal skeletons closed, a circular system¸ andare Mesotherms). Moss Crabs are native to the first layer of the Hollows (also known as the First Hell) of the eastern continents of Atterra. They are one of several anthropod species that have successfully colonized the surface of Atterra. Moss Crabs are commonly found in moist environments where moss naturally grows throughout the east of Atterra.  These opportunistic omnivores are one of if not the most common smaller anthropods to be encountered on the surface (likely due to them preferring to spawn on the surface). While primarily eating moss, rotting wood, mushrooms, fallen fruits, and nuts, Moss Crabs are essential scavengers in the Northern forests and wetlands. Often seen gathering around carcasses with other scavengers, Moss Crabs help to pick apart and recycle calcium by crushing bone and consuming the marrow inside with their complex mouthparts. Anthropods make up many of the species native to the hollows and, like other organisms in the hollows, can see into the UV spectrum. Additionally, all anthropods possess skeletons and shells comprised of pyrite instead of hydroxyapatite and long-chain myosin fibers. These adaptations allow anthropods to identify each other with biofluorescents in the hollows and possess strength and size no arthropod will ever be able to achieve.

Unlike the pinchers of crustaceans and other arthropods, which have two digits on their claws, the Moss Crab has three pinchers on its two front claws. This extra digit allows the Moss Crab to have added dexterity when foraging and bringing food to the feeding pinchers at the Moss Crab’s mouth. The extra mobility the ‘arms’ of the Moss Crab possesses is due to the wrist joints the Moss Crab has in its claws and its ability to twist its forearm like a human’s.  These large claws are the Moss Crab’s only form of offense. Should something harass the Moss Crab (and pulling itself into an armored ball isn’t working), it will reach out with one of its three-pronged claws and clamp down with a bone-crushing grip that can easily snap a human’s forearm. Once clamped on, the Moss crab won’t let go of whatever it is gripping for several seconds while applying increasing pressure before letting go.

Besides its claws, the primary defense that a Moss Crab possesses is its pyrite carapace which is bullet-resistant (the carapace being not entirely bulletproof due to the porous nature of its shell). The Moss Crab’s bullet-resistant shell is highly porous and allows the growth of nonvascular flora such as moss and fungi (Red-Caps and Orange-Stems being the most common) to grow upon its shell.  This layer of moss growing on the Moss Crabs shell helps with camouflage, disguising the Moss Crab as a mossy rock, and aids in insulation. The moss that grows on the shell of the Moss Crab helps it regulate its temperature during the cold months by helping retain heat that might otherwise be lost through its porous shell. This adaptation allows the Moss Crab to survive on the surface during the winter when many other anthropod species would rather weather the icy winter months inside the warmer hollows.

The leathery skin and scales that the Moss Crab possesses are surprisingly tough and give the anthropod a surprising amount of protection as it traverses its environment. Thanks to its heritage in the hollows, the Moss Crab is a decent climber, using its pinchers, strong limbs, and robust toes to climb rocks and hoist itself up ledges. The feet of the Moss Crab further aid in its climbing by having microscopic folds in its footpads like that of a gecko to help it gain purchase on smoother surfaces. When it comes to finding food, the Moss Crab uses its two long fleshy antennae to smell and taste what’s around it. The Moss Crab can do this due to the many fine hairs that run across the surface of its fleshy antennae. These fine hair follicles contain olfactory receptors that allow the Moss Crab to sniff out potential food from 7km away.  While there are taste receptors scattered throughout the fleshy antennae of the Moss Crab, the majority of the taste receptors it possesses are concentrated on its oral claws.

Once a food item has been tasted by both the antennae and manipulating claws (the taste receptors being located on the ‘teeth’ of these claws) will then be given a final test by the oral pinchers. Should a food item pass the test, the oral claws will shovel the food into the complicated mouthparts of the Moss Crab to break up and swallow. Oddly enough, Moss Crabs have excellent eyesight due to the positioning of their eyes on their bodies. The compound eyes of Moss Crabs are made up of tens of thousands of individual ommatidia (elements containing a cluster of photoreceptor cells, support cells, and pigment cells) in each eye. Additionally, each eye possesses a fovea (a concentrated area of photoreceptor cells) that acts as a pseudo pupil in the compound eyes of the anthropod. These give the Moss Crab an extensive view of the world around it with stereoscopic vision where the vision of each eye overlap.  To blink, the Moss Crab, like other stalk-eyed anthropods, will pull its compound eye into its body cavity to clean it of particles and impurities before extending the eye again. Large tactile hairs exist on each of the six legs that the Moss Crab uses to walk (though it also uses its claws like legs when walking on occasion). Much like vertebrate whiskers, these whiskers the Moss Crab possesses help sense its environment. These tactile hairs enable the Moss Crab to not only sense changes in the air currents around it but also help it navigate cramp environments.

To communicate, the Moss Crab will either flex its armored abdomen to create chirps from its nineteen nostrils running down its abdomen or by making loud clacking sounds with its claws. The nostrils of the Moss Crab and other athropods evolved from the spiracles their ancestors possessed, and their book lungs evolved into a series of vertebrate-like lungs to diffuse oxygen into their bloodstream. The ears of the Moss Crab (located between its face and back plates) are sensitive to the chirps, and clacks Moss Crabs make and allow the anthropods to communicate with each other up to five kilometers away. When threatened, the Moss Crab will pull its faceplate back towards its backplate and fold its legs against its body for defense. Once in that position, the Moss Crab will release a stress call that resembles a low-frequency moan until the threat has passed or been grabbed by its claws. The Moss Crab will clack its claws loudly and release loud chirps from its abdomen when excited. These excited calls are commonly utilized by Moss Crabs when a carcass has been found, which draws in other Moss Crabs in the area to help break down the corpse. During the spring (or winter inside the hollows), female Moss Crabs will release low-frequency calls letting male Moss Crabs know that they are ready to reproduce.

Once gathered, male Moss Crabs will court females by making loud, frequent calls and chirps before fighting with other males. Male Moss Crabs fight by clasping their claws together and attempting to push the other competing male over onto their back or sides. The males who win these mating competitions earn breeding rights to the females gathered around them. To mate, the male and female Moss Crabs will face away from each other and unfurl their abdomens from underneath their bodies and connect their abdomens together. The two claws on the end of the male’s abdomen help by clasping onto the carapace on the end of the female’s abdomen so reproduction can occur. Once mating is done, the female will hold the fertilized eggs inside her abdomen for ten days before laying her clutch of ten to twelve eggs (Moss Crab eggs being the same size as chicken eggs) in a nest of vegetation the female has prepared. These eggs will incubate for between twenty-one to thirty-one days before hatching. Once these nymphs have hatched, they will call out to their mother, who will return and remove them from the nest. Nymphs will stay with their mother for the first sixth months of their lives, wherein their shells will have hardened enough to protect them and begin growing moss. Once separated from their mother, Moss Crab nymphs will grow over the course of three years before reaching their full size and reaching sexual maturity.

The naturally curious nature of the Moss Crab (their brains being slightly larger than a lemon and being located under the eyes behind the faceplate) has led to Moss Crabs being considered almost a nuisance inside the Walls of Malgori. This is due to their habit of rummaging through human trash to find something to eat, and occasionally breaking the hand and/ or arms of children harassing them. The long limbs of the Moss Crab allow them to pull themselves into large dumpsters or crush the flimsy metal locks of others with their claws. Moss Crabs are also a hazard for cars and trains due to the pyrite shell they possess making them a forty-pound rock with legs and eyes. Thankfully in the cities, Moss Crabs are rare enough that this is no longer a significant concern (though this is likely due to the high mortality rate of Moss Crab nymphs within the walls). The Moss Crab nymphs that manage to survive to adulthood within the walls have learned to use crosswalks like people. It’s becoming an increasingly common to see lone Moss Crabs hiding in moss-covered back walkways and Mother Moss Crabs crossing the street alongside a crowd of humans with their nymphs in toe. On occasion, Moss Crabs have also been called ‘Companion Crabs’by Guild Huntsman and people living in the country due to their habit of crowding around the fire alongside the humans.

Moss Crabs are intelligent enough not to throw themselves into the fire like crustaceans and instead will sit around the fire at night and stare into the flames. Over time Moss Crabs have learned that hanging around a fire with humans or Hakdor might earn them food has led to the risk of campers being harassed by Moss Crabs for food; or having their food outright stolen by a Moss Crab gently snatching their food away from them. Like other anthropods, the white meat of the Moss Crab is in high demand due to the taste of the meat being like crab and lobster flesh. Like crab meat, the meat of Moss Crabs (and other anthropods for that matter) absorbs flavor easily while cooking and, while soft, has a texture between red meat and poultry due to the muscle fibers the Moss Crab possesses. While this demand for anthroprod meat would usually lead to the widespread farming of the Moss Crab for its flesh, due to its tough pyrite shell and leathery skin it possesses, this is not the case. Instead, most anthropod meat within the walls is from farmed Jidderways (similarly sized soft-bodied anthropods), which are much easier to butcher than Moss Crabs. Leading the Moss Crab to be seen as the occasional curiosity encountered within the city and a general nuisance for restaurants and those living in the country where local Moss Crabs break into their trashcans for a snack.