#abyss I'm so sorry

[lovely-blue-galaxy]

AP tests are OVER. I have the SHORTEST week of school next week. Time to DRAW again!

[tnsophiaonly]

Chris grey's song "Let the world burn" gives me SOOO much yandere imagines ... The moment I think of what to write properly and and properly think out a plot and thoughts I will make something out of this 🗣️🙏🙏

AND LIKE THE "I want it all" by Lana Del Ray (???) 😭😭‼️‼️

For now: cw: yandere, implied kidnapping

You gaze over your captor, the one who claimed they'd love you too much... You can't help but not buy their words, they must have other motives right...? There's no way anybody would ever love you this much at all...

You pressed your lips in a thin firm line and almost hesitated, you squirmed slightly, held the hem of your shirt out of nervousness and opened your mouth to speak;

"Hey..." You start, they immediately look at you, their attention to you, "Do you really love me? I mean, there's no way anybody would love me this much! Like imagine the world is in dire need of saving, and I also need to be saved, there's no way anybody would save me and let the world end! Like—" they quickly shut your yapping by holding your hand.

They bring it up next to their lips, "Darling..." they remain eye-contact with you, "I'd let the world burn..." They mutter, "Let the world burn for you." They finished and kissed your knuckles. Before caressing your face and bringing you closer to their face.

THIS JUST MADE ME REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME WHEN I ANSWERED MY GIRLFRIEND'S QUESTION WHEN SHE ASKED HOW MUCH I LOVE HER, I immediately answered, that I'd kill everyone and myself for her, destroy the world if she wants and if she wants me to save it, ALL FOR HER🗣️‼️

[litafan4ever]

Raphael (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles): In Animation (1987 - Present)

[devildom-moss]

(NSFW) | (gn!MC) (amab!MC - could work for MC with a strap) (top!MC) (dom!MC)

I was thinking about slut-praising Mammon and how much he would adore it. After all, he’s a greedy, little, cock-hungry whore for you.

You could use him whenever you’d like, and he’d be grateful. Summon him to your room in the middle of the night, pull him into an empty classroom at R.A.D, take him into the bathroom at his favorite club and make so much noise that you both get kicked out – anything to please you. Just keep telling him that he’s a pretty little bitch – your needy, desperate slut. Please?

He feels like he’s in heat whenever you walk into a room – desperation knotting up in the pit of his stomach. Don’t take your eyes off him. Mammon feasts on your attention, lapping up every second of it like a touch-starved beast. Watch him melt into a moaning, whiny mess under you. He needs it – needs you. Faster. Deeper. More.

Mammon wants your cock buried in him while you stroke his cheek gently and call him your perfect cumslut. He’ll take it all for you. You’re the only person he could show this side of himself to. You’re the only one who sees his blissed-out, cum-drunk face as he writhes for you. Tears wet his cheeks and leave those gorgeous blue and gold eyes damp and glistening.

He wants it so bad: being your favorite, cherished hole. Please don’t use anyone like you use him. He’ll be your best little fucktoy, so praise him for playing the role he was made to fill.

His heart aches from the overflow of affection when you wipe the messy tears from his cheek and tell him, “You’re such a good slut for me. My little cum dump. I love knowing I can use you whenever I need to get off.”

Mammon would cover his mouth to hide his smile, muffling his erotic moans in the process. He loves it when you fuck him stupid until his thoughts leave him. When you turn him into a mess like this, his inhibitions falter, his body betrays his cocky attitude, and he gets to be honest in his reactions. He adores you so much.

You can even be a little mean to him.

“Mammon, you’re such a filthy little whore. You’re practically begging for someone to use your desperate ass. Do you need to cum that badly?”

Still drowning in pleasure, he would anchor himself with the only defense he had to offer, muttered in desperation – the words clawing their way up his throat just so you could hear them: “No, I ain’t. . . only for you. . . just you.”

[theabyssgazesalsointoyou]

be more chill color wheel 🌈

(⬇️ with color filter)

[snezario]

Sub-Optimal; Ala/stor & Vo/x

based from an idea that @sneezingfetishftw posted. I kind of want to expand on that beginning part with a prequel ficlet of Alastor being sick but idk if I'll actually get around to it... I think this is the longest one-shot I've ever written... somehow this turned out to be 1.7k words?

Alastor leans against the headboard of his bed and takes a sip from his mug, grimacing as the hot liquid travels down his throat. Coffee was probably not the best choice right now. The warmth of it was nice against his sore throat. Of course that wasn’t the only unfortunate telltale symptom of illness he had awoken with a couple days ago.

He had been pretty good at hiding the whole illness thing under wraps for the first half of the day, that is until he had to sneeze. Usually he was good at stifling them into oblivion, but this particular cold seemed hellbent on disrupting his ability to control his faculties. The first unstifled sneeze caused all the lights in the hotel to flicker, which wouldn’t have caught much of anyone else’s attention. It was the second, third, and fourth ones that well, almost destroyed it.

It was after that whole fiasco that he was banished to quarantine in his room because according to Vaggie Who the fuck knows what other chaos his sickness will wreak havoc on the hotel? Normally he’d be holed up in his radio tower, but his quarters within the hotel are not half bad. Hence, him still being in bed to begin with. A sharp prickle in his nose reminds him how miserable being sick makes one feel.

hih'ZZSSHHhue!

He tries to keep it contained, lest he face Vaggie’s wrath. Not that she’s much of a threat to him really. As Alastor recovers, he’s interrupted by a loud BANG! His bedroom door swings open to reveal Vox standing dead center in the door frame. Alastor rolls his eyes at the other Overlord.

“Do you mind?”

Vox ignores Alastor’s question and breezes past the threshold, plopping himself on a red armchair by the fireplace. 

“I was just passing through the area and a little birdy told me you were feeling a bit… under the weather.” He scrolls on his phone as he speaks, although the wide grin on his screen makes it obvious how much he’s relishing this moment. Alastor narrows his eyes, an unlikely story— Vox would never pass up the chance to taunt him, especially in a case like this.

“Well, I’m not quite on my deathbed as you can see. I didn’t realize that you missed little old me so much that you just had to come by and visit. It is flattering that you stopped by, in any case.”

Despite how awful he’s feeling, Alastor flashes Vox a cheeky grin, knowing full well just how to push the other demon’s buttons. The entertainment value of seeing Vox absolutely lose his cool is almost limitless. Although the pesky tickle is urgently becoming more than a mere annoyance. Alastor would much rather listen to Pentious’s Egg Bois spew nonsense to him for hours on end than be seen like this. Vulnerable and weak, in front of Vox no less. But it’s not something he can avoid at the moment.

Vox wasn’t someone who shied away from physical contact. He never denied himself the opportunity to encroach on someone’s personal space when he saw fit, it was mostly a tactic he employed to assert dominance or to emphasize a point. Or in this case, threaten his rival. Leaping off the chair, he’s in the radio demon’s face in a heartbeat, clenching the collar of Alastor’s pajamas in his hand.

“You arrogant prick, you think that I give a flying FUCK where you’ve been—”

Vox pauses when Alastor inhales sharply, no doubt to make a scathing retort. The radio demon raises a fist to his face and angles himself away from the other Overlord.

hhzh—hhh’ZTCHhiew! hih! ihĨ̴̢̛̘̠̪͍̠̣̪̪͗͒̓̃̎̀̓̕͜Z̵̪̝̱̪̘̺̣̗̘̍Z̷̡̜͔̱͖͉̰̭̽̽̎̆̿̉͝͝T̴̨̧̼̫̜̤͈̖̬͈̈́̄̒̓̾̀̎͠͝S̷̨̱̭͚̬̻̬͐̑̐̏͆͝ͅḨ̵̣͍͈͙͈̝̜͑̓͋̉͊͛̀̑̚H̵̤̯͔̱̓̎̈͘̚̕uu!

The space around them crackles with Eldritch energy, tendrils of which encompass the room. Vox’s screen glitches and completely shuts off.

“What the actual fuck?” The lights flicker back on and Vox’s screen illuminates again. He gives in to a full body shudder (not of his own accord though) as the static shock between them fizzles out. He jumps back from Alastor, his eye spiraling intensely. Alastor sniffles into a plain cloth handkerchief.

“Oh dear, pardon me. I’m not quite in control of my faculties at the moment.”

“I hope you fucking choke on your own mucus,” Vox snarls at him before storming out of Alastor’s room.

It’s humiliating but because the hotel has Alastor as its facilities manager, there is very little modern technology at Vox’s disposal. Meaning, he has to walk… out the front door like a common sinner. The hotel is located quite a bit away from the main hubbub of Pentagram City, which is both a blessing and a curse, depending on who you talk to. Vox makes his way to the edge of the city, a chaotic and desolate area and at the first sight of a screen (an old television set sitting in the window of a dilapidated pawn shop), he transforms into electricity and travels back to the Vees’ penthouse.

What kind of weird voodoo magic did the smiling freak do to me? Vox sits alone in his penthouse suite, glaring at nothing in particular as his eye dilates as he fumes about the outcome of his interaction with Alastor. One day, that pompous bastard would find something more than coffee in that stupid mug of his.

He idly rubs a hand down his screen as a fleeting fuzzy sensation runs through the circuitry in his head, almost like an itch he can’t quite reach. He proceeds to take a long sip from his mug, the coffee in it is only lukewarm but it’s the caffeine boost he wants anyways. Vox is feeling more drained from engaging with Alastor than he thought. It’s not entirely out of the question, but it does surprise him a little. Nothing a little caffeine wouldn’t fix. He downs the rest of the drink and settles into the sofa, turning the plasma screen television screen across from him on with a simple thought. The ambient sound immediately soothes him and the incident with Alastor floats into his memory archives to be forgotten.

An hour passes and Vox is sleepily scrolling on his phone. He could nod off right there. That is until a buzzing in his head catches his attention. It almost feels like tiny feathers caressing his internal wiring, not so much caressing as tickling. Similar to before, he can’t seem to reach it and quell the sensation. But unlike before, it’s not just a momentary annoyance. His deliberation is interrupted when his breath hitches once, then twice before he pitches forward.

“ih…ih'DZZSHHH!”

He blinks in confusion. That’s it? He just had to fucking sneeze? Again, he finds his thoughts disrupted by a familiar sensation. Vox tries to rub the tickle away but given his… specifications he realizes he doesn’t even have a nose to—eh'TZZSSHIEW! hih’IZZSHuhh!

What the fuck is happening? He sniffles. Ugh, gross. 

Between the sneezing, the developing tension headache, and the exhaustion it feels like—Vox’s screen lights up as it dawns on him. He fucking has Alastor’s cold. That motherfucker. His blood pressure skyrockets and sparks shoot off his frame, threatening to short out the electronics in the room (of which there are many). Before he knows it, he’s already electro-teleporting across the pentagram to confront the radio demon.

“ALASTOR, you pretentious manipulative fucking son-of-a—”

Although Alastor can’t determine the actual content of Vox’s plethora of insults and cursing, they do steadily increase volume as he approaches Alastor’s room.

“Hmm?” Alastor turns his head as Vox barges into his room for the second time that day. He is sitting in one of the red armchairs by the fireplace, with a book in his grasp. He wears his deceptively inviting smile as always, although it is slightly dulled down by his current illness. Vox breathing is heavy and ragged, his rage undeterred by Alastor’s placid expression actually seems to intensify as he stands face-to-face from his rival.

“YOU… you did this to me!” He jabs a finger in the radio demon’s face, mere centimeters away from stabbing him in the eye. Alastor calmly pushes Vox’s hand down.

“Careful now, unless you want to cause another city-wide blackout.” Alastor teasingly reminds him of their previous on-air encounter.

“Whatever stunt you phhhulled this m-morhhn—” Vox’s voice falters, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He sharply turns away as he succumbs to the persistent itch.

“hh—hHEHh’IZZSH! Fuh—hih…h’KSHHHIiiue! ih’Z̷͖̥̩͕͒́ͅZ̷̩̲̯̠̺̘̟̆̕T̴̛͔͆̒͌̄̚͘Ć̷̘̒̌͐͝͠H̶̥̦͖̰͙͙͙̩̠̋͛ͅH̶͍͕̪̙̦͎́́̋͝uu! ”

The lights pulsate with each sneeze from the television demon. Vox groans, leaning against the wall. That last one hurt like a bitch. 

“Oho! I see the problem. Apologies, old pal. Snf! I thought someone so advanced as yourself would be immune to such trivialities.” Despite his flippant tone, Alastor is genuinely surprised. He wasn’t actually certain the static shock would have affected Vox when he did it. He is, however, quite entertained by the development.

Before Vox can respond, Vaggie throws the bedroom door open.

“Alastor, what the fuck are you even doing? I thought we told you to—” The ex-exorcist jabs her spear in his direction and is about to go off on him when she notices Vox is slumped against the wall. Spinning her spear, she redirects the point towards him. “What’s he doing here?”

“Oh him? He’s no threat, at least not in his current condition,” Alastor makes a dismissive motion with his hand, a mischievous smile on his lips. Vaggie scowls at him, her hands crossed over her chest. Her gaze flits between Alastor and Vox.

“What did you do—Actually, wait I don’t want to know. Just… stop fucking with the lights.” She swiftly turns around and shuts the door behind her. Still smiling, Alastor turns his attention towards Vox, who’s looking quite pathetic. Well, more so than usual.

“You hear that, my dear Vox? Get a hold of yourself. Now if you’ll exhhcuse me I hh-have— (dang it, now it’s his turn) hh’iZTSHHuu! eh’D̴͚̼̊̂̒Z̵̳̥̈́̀̐͊̃̊̄͘̚Z̵̻͓̖̪̤͊͒̄̓͗́̂͑͜͝͝S̵̼̖͌̔̚HHHiew!” Unfortunate timing, but can’t be helped, Alastor thinks. He scrubs a finger under his nose and proceeds to pore over his book.

Vox narrows his eyes, adjusts his bowtie, and stands up. Vox glares daggers at Alastor, who appears to be ignoring him now. As he heads to the door, he feels an unfortunately familiar prickle at the back of his screen. NO! Not aga— heh’DZZSHHuh! Fuck. He catches Alastor smirking in his periphery.

“Gesundheit!” The radio demon calls out after Vox’s retreating figure.

[harbingersecho]

Marrassurma, God of Death (and Dreams) from The Abyssal

bonus Sol bc the hand kiss scene is cute

[akuma-tenshi]

oh i am OBSESSED

[okkennymay]

Commission for @waezi2

[Points finger gun] You're all gonna get attached to these characters like I did whether you like it or not, the world and characters of Royal Punch are just the best~ o((>ω< ))o

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Mashle: Magic and Muscles Picture Drama Episode 8: The Most Dangerous Place (English Translation)

All right, gonna try doing this again. I'm still not confident about my Japanese skills, but I want to keep training so I'll try to translate this one. Please let me know if I make any mistakes, as neither English nor Japanese is my first language!

Translation under read more!

Mash Burnedead, His Friends, and Their School Life Episode 8: The Most Dangerous Place

Abyss: All right, I suppose we should start by sweeping the floor. Then we can wipe them clean.

Mash: 'Kay. Activities that require physical strength are my specialties.

Abyss: Reliable as always. Though, making you clean the owl's house as a punishment for all the mess at Lang Dorm... That's surprisingly a light punishment, isn't it?

Mash: It's not light at all.

Abyss: Huh?

Mash: The owl's house... is the most dangerous place in this school... or so I think.

Abyss: There's no way...

*an owl comes*

Mash: I'm worried.

*another owl draws near*

Mash: Uh-oh.

*one more owl approaches*

Mash: That was close.

Abyss: W-Why are the owls here so aggressive?! ... No, that does not seem like it, they only target Mash... Just why?

*the owls are pecking on Mash*

Mash: That's what... I've been wondering too... Just why?

Abyss: How strange... I do not sense any hostility coming from Mash to the owls whatsoever either... Mash, what do you think about the owls?

*owls are aggressively pecking on Mash*

Mash: Huh? Hmm... Protein?

Abyss: That's why! They're being aggressive at you because they think you might eat them. So, instead of thinking of them as nutrition, how about thinking of them as friends?

Mash: Friends? Hmm, in that case... *takes out a cream puff and offers it to them* ... Here you go.

Abyss: Please don't offer human foods to them!

Mash: Well, cream puffs are complete sources of nutrition.

Abyss: ... Since owls are small animals, I think we should give them bugs to eat. *offers a bug to one of the owls* Here you go.

*happy owl noises*

Mash: Ohh, that owl seems cheerful now, amazing.

Abyss: No, no. The owls just want to be fed, that's all.

*excited owl noises*

Abyss: You're eating really well. Here you go. *offers some more bugs to the owl*

*even more excited owl noises*

Mash: The way that owl is so happy to eat the bugs... I kind of feel sorry for them...

Abyss: Oh, you're saying something like that again...?

*aggressive poking owl noises*

Mash: Ow.

Abyss: It seems the path of friendship is going to be a tough one.

[bri-does-art]

Do leviathan mers exist? Like a reaper or ghost one?

I don't know.

You tell me. :)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[ellipsae]

Hi, I'm back with another Post-Epilogue design, this time for Guy. I have to admit, I really struggled with this one. Guy's original design has such a clean but distinctive style to it that I just can't quite capture. At first I tried to do a 'work' outfit for when he gets hands-on with fon tech before switching to attempting a formal outfit. The casual jacket-off variation feels more like Guy than the full dressed one though...I'm not too satisfied with this one but there were several design points that I wanted to work in and did at the very least. Maybe I'll revisit this design again down the road.

Anyways, please see under the read more for more design details. !Warning for Spoilers!

-so post-epilogue, I imagine Guy becomes a 'rising star' in noble society after hitting it big by sinking all his wealth in fontech development which quickly became a booming industry in the post-Planet Storm world. All the other nobility are so impressed by Guy's rise in reputation/wealth/smart investment decisions but in reality it's largely just Guy being a really big fontech nerd like usual and funding everything that are really interesting to him and being an early investor. He spends more time than he likes having to attend parties and gatherings but he understands having and maintaining a reputation is important to assert his influence and opinions, especially after all the obstacles he faced getting back his title (I imagine he got judged a lot for his rappig caretaker job and such), plus he's so used to being a servant he doesn't act like most nobles. (He finally graduates from his job as Peony's Rappig Caretaker though.)

-the device in his suspender holster is a fonon counter, it can detect the type and concentration of fonons in the immediate area. (It's a useful tool plot-wise for this AU *winkwink* ) Normally Guy carries it when he's on site, observing fontech excavation, it's helpful for finding power cores.

-in the post-epilogue world, Guy's interest and knowledge about fontech makes him the greatest source of information in the party, in contrast to Jade being the authority on fonic sciences back when fonons were abundant

-I also imagine that many people are still reluctant to adopt fontech in their everyday lives/still stuck on losing the Score and fonic magic so there was not a lot of initial interest. It was also still quite a risk to invest in given a lot of advance tech had to rely on excavated machines from the Dawn Age. In contrast, replicas have no preconceptions about fontech and I imagine Guy helping fledgling replica communities get ahead by sharing and teaching them how to use simple fontech. Since philantrophy/altruism is also part of what nobility does, it makes the other nobles impressed as well.

-I went a little overboard with the gold cording but I really like the idea of the cording being a traditional style of Hod.

-the four leaf clover-like knot is a decorative knot called a mokkou musubi, it carries the meaning of 'perpetuation of one's descendants'. Pere tied it for him with that in mind to revive the House of Gardios.

-the pin brooch on his lapel is the same as the one Marybelle wears on her cravat. I like to think that it's their family crest. In the off-jacket version, Guy has a smaller pin on the collar.

-I really wanted to preserve the curved open window (?) that his vest has in his original design so I ended up putting it as an open back on his jacket

-I went through so many types of coat styles, from like caped trench coats to riding frocks but cycled back to keeping the single-tail back.

-the orange 'jacket' around his waist in the jacket-off version is actually his vest. And the cloth in his pocket is not the cravat from his full dressed version, but I can imagine a funny skit where everyone keeps thinking it is the cravat.

[melit0n]

What does Sleep, as in the deity, look like to you guys? Because as someone who's been around in the Sleep Token fandom for a while, I've seen a lot of different interpretations.

To me, Sleep doesn't really have a set, physical body outside of a person's (perhaps Vessel's) dreamscape. Afterall, why should something that dictates all the odd, horrifying, joyful and (sometimes) meaningful things that happen in your dreams be one thing? Sleep could be the shadow in the corner of your dark room you swear is moving, the tapping of rain as you're about to fall asleep, the creaking of the pipes inside your house/apartment as you slowly dose off at your desk, etc. Outside of a dreamscape; Sleep is only what you need it to be. Hence Its need for Vessel as Its mouthpiece.

However, in the dreamscape, I can see Sleep as a fish. Not a particularly alive looking one, per say, but the scattered remains of one. All bones, empty eye sockets (but are they truly empty?), rotting flesh and scales peeling off bit by bit etc. Specifically, a kind of deep-sea fish; like an angler fish, a sixgill shark or a Greenland shark. But! Along with its bones, Sleep has bioluminescent innards. Viceral that ebbs and flows in multi-colour fashion with each flick of Its tail.

The deep sea fish imagery mainly comes from the fact that the deep sea is almost completely unknown; many of the creatures down there are completely alien to us, like Sleep has supposedly become over the hundreds of thousands of years that It's existed. The deep sea, for the most part, is completely silent. Calm; the perfect place for a nap (if you can breath underwater of course).

It's the perfect habitat for the Unknown, odd and horrifying.

[misty-wisp]

omg a sona ref :3c

soooo i drew this design WAYYYY back in like...october i think? but never made a proper ref sheet out of it bc i didn't feel like it yet. but now i feel like it so here she iiiis :] witchsty my friend witchsty

i'll be real it's not up to standards with my oc refs (minimal shading, more simplistic graphic design than usual, etc.) but like. it works. so idrc that much :P

[minobe-household]

i say she isn't in an relationship going off of canon but the real ones know that's a lie. she's married. to freddy fazbear