#angel of ruin ( master knives )

[bluestringpuppeteer]

Tag drop

unworthy follower ( self ) angel of ruin ( master knives ) red coat of the brother ( vash ) mountain with gentle hands ( livio ) blood dyed nails ( elendira ) ever bared fangs ( wolfwood ) out of threads ( ooc ) unknown inquiries ( anon ask ) masses demanding knowledge ( ask ) standing orders ( queue ) razor wires in my head ( musing )

[deathsdevotee]

tag dump

unworthy follower ( self ) angel of ruin ( master knives ) red coat of betrayal ( vash ) out of threads ( ooc ) unknown inquiries ( anon ask ) maggots demanding knowedge ( ask ) servant of ruin's angel ( main verse )

[deadlydevotion]

tag drop

unworthy follower ( self ) angel of ruin ( master knives ) red coat of betrayal ( vash ) out of threads ( ooc ) unknown inquiries ( anon ask ) maggots demanding knowedge ( ask )

[sculptorofcrimson]

Tyrant’s Lullaby

Once upon a time, there was a glorious, terrible man. He built horrors. He built wonders. He brought monsters up from the deep. He took a child from the arms of a horrified, weeping family, and raised him not as a boy but as a general. He took a child and ruined his future, He took a child and made him a king, a pet, a dog. He marched armies over the face of the ravaged earth, and trampled all that did not kneel before the weight of the storm. He burned tundras to ash and shook the mountains until they crumbled, He boiled the seas to mist and the skies to charcoal. And when the scouring was done, and the earth was entombed in ashes, He turned His dreaming, endless glare upon His own. 

He strangled the thunder that had bore Him a throne, He sent the golden, the children stolen from their cradles, to plunge down long knives into turned backs raised so fervently before His regard. With their blood they had built Him a kingdom, and with their bones He crowned Himself a throne. And when Terra knelt, cowed, battered, in awe and in fear, He turned His gaze skywards.

And the stars felt His benevolent wrath. 

He bore twenty sons, two of them sacrificed, and He unleashed them upon the earth, the skies, the stars. They hunted for Him, they loved Him, they adored Him, yet some had strayed too far from His light, some had gazed upon the man that would be a god with sullen, hungry eyes, doing His bidding, and knowing His wrath. They are those who were there when affection curdled to treachery.

There was no peace among the stars, no mercy, no rest, simply a slow, heartless drowning as the gold claimed them limb by limb, inch by inch, and swallowed them into the endless light. 

And then war. Treachery, when the stars themselves were swallowed. When brother turned against brother, and father against son. When the Phoenix cleaved the Gorgon’s head from his shoulders, and the Immortal bashed in the Haunter with a hammer, when the Angel fell to the Traitor and He stained the Palace’s stones red with His son’s blood. When Horus burned, when the Angel shed his wings and the golden were shattered upon the anvil of betrayal, the Father fell to His son. 

He was buried upon a rotting throne, screaming hollowly into the fading dark, the stars basking in His rage, His pity and His wrath. He was buried alive in a tomb made from gold, ashen bones ruling a decaying kingdom from the grave, dreaming forever of brighter days. Dreaming of His sons, and how He betrayed them first, how they betrayed Him, how they abandoned His bones. And finally could the golden rest, bathed in the heart of their greatest shame, enshrining the decaying dust of a master they had failed, in an empire He had forsaken. 

That man was the Emperor. That corpse is the Emperor, golden, glorious, and decaying just like the slaves.

Do not think your bones different from a slave's. When you rot, your corpse will be indistinguishable from those of your servants.

[stanislawkowalski]

A MAN WHO SHUTTERS SOULS, DREAMS AND BODIES.

Luka Vasilev is more than just a man; he is a force of nature, the living embodiment of the chaos that thrives in the dark corners of the world. Beneath his angelic exterior and charming demeanor lies a heart as black as the night, a soul twisted by the thrill of control. To cross Luka is to invite ruin, for he possesses an unparalleled gift: the ability to shatter both the souls and bodies of those who dare to get too close.

Luka’s power isn’t in his physical strength—he is slight of build, with delicate features that belie the destruction he is capable of—but in his mind, which works like a finely tuned instrument of manipulation and cruelty. He sees into the hearts of others, sensing their deepest fears and desires with uncanny precision. And once he has that knowledge, he twists it, exploiting their vulnerabilities until they are broken, body and soul.

He is a master of seduction, not just in the romantic sense but in the way he seduces people into trusting him, into believing that he is their savior, their confidant, their greatest ally. Luka draws people in with soft words and tender gestures, making them feel seen, understood, and valued. But this is merely the prelude to the agony he inevitably inflicts.

When Luka decides that someone has outlived their usefulness, or worse, has become a threat, he begins his cruel work. It starts with subtle psychological torment—planted seeds of doubt and fear that grow into choking vines of paranoia. Luka has a way of making people question their own sanity, driving them to the brink of madness with nothing more than a well-placed comment or a seemingly innocent gesture.

And when the mind is sufficiently fractured, he turns his attention to the body. Luka’s hands, so gentle in appearance, deliver pain with surgical precision. He doesn’t resort to crude violence; that is beneath him. Instead, he employs methods that are as elegant as they are devastating, methods that leave his victims alive but irreparably damaged, both physically and emotionally.

Some say Luka has a penchant for knives, slender and gleaming, instruments of exquisite pain. Others whisper of his knowledge of poisons, subtle concoctions that leave no trace but wreak havoc on the body from within. But the truth is, Luka doesn’t need weapons to destroy someone. His real weapon is himself—his presence, his words, his touch.

Those who fall into Luka’s orbit often find themselves inexplicably drawn to him, even as they sense the danger he represents. It is as if he holds a mirror up to their darkest desires and fears, reflecting them back in such a way that they can’t help but be captivated. But that mirror is a trap, and once caught in its reflection, there is no escape.

Luka revels in the destruction he causes, taking a perverse pleasure in watching the light drain from his victims’ eyes, the moment they realize they are nothing more than pawns in his game. But what makes him truly terrifying is that he doesn’t do this out of necessity or even ambition—he does it because he enjoys it. The shattering of souls and bodies is Luka’s art, and he is an artist who takes great pride in his work.

To Luka, people are like beautiful vases, fragile and intricate, and his joy comes from breaking them apart, piece by piece, until nothing remains but shards. And when he is done, he moves on to the next, leaving behind a trail of devastation that can never be repaired.

In the end, Luka Vasilev is a reminder of the darkness that lies within all of us, a darkness that, in his hands, becomes a weapon of unimaginable cruelty. He is the devil in disguise, a bringer of ruin who shatters not just lives, but the very essence of those who dare to trust him.

[allyfairyboo]

At the top of the hill near the river lies an old house. Its windows broken from the inside, as if something inside struggled to escape. Vines cover its brick walls, years of neglect feed them well. The door creaks, and the floor boards joins in its choir. A stainled door mat lay below the entrance of the domain. Nearby shoes of kinds are placed on a shoe rack, one set being tiny little red polkadot rain boots. On the scarred walls, hang dust photos full of life. A man, a woman, and two small children. Then, a woman and two children. A woman and a child. Only a child is left in the final photograph. A child that isn't so young anymore. The man, the woman, and the child never grew old within the photographs.

The kitchen sink has leaves crawling their way onto dirty counter tops. The facet leaks water onto its center. Rusted forks and knives decorate the counters yet untouched by the plants' leaves. A plastic plate with a child's movie character on it has rotted food prepared on it. The mounds of mold growing on it spread to the chair, the only thing identifying it being the legs delaying it from an inevitable collapse. The fridge is empty, yet the smell of rotten food still comes from unidentifiable stains. The freezer is filled only with old strawberry popsicles. There are shelves nailed on the wall. On them are the usual spices and sauces, on one of the shelves there is the same, along with it is a small toy. A little plastic cat toy, shoddy painted with orange paint, just like a cat in the background of one of the photos in the hallway.

The bathroom is much of the same. Old and ruined. The sink was filled with brown hair, untouched by anyone. There's scissors left laying on the sink as well, rusted just like the knives and forks. There's no soap left in the dispenser, but a sweet smell still remains from whatever sent of soap was once there. Unlike the plant in the kitchen sink, the plants in here are without color. The bathtub is stained pink, with grime covering its wall and curtain. It's likely it hadn't been cleaned for a long time, even before the house was abandoned. On the bathtubs edge sits a pink and glittery rubber duck and a much smaller yellow rubber duck. The paint on its little orange nose has worn away in some spots. It seems well loved.

Down the hall, if you open the second door to the left, you'll find the master bedroom. The door has scratches at its bottom, the top layer of wood has been practically torn off. The only thing left in the dusty room is a raggedy bed. The bed is hastily made with pillows strewn about. A lump so perfectly mimicking a body pushes up the decades old quilt. Pulling away the quilt shows sheets hidden away underneath were eaten away by moths. Laying on top is a large doll. Looking at it now, it's surprising it seemed human from under the quilt. The left arm is missing, torn from the cloth body. A small teddy bear is tied to its right. It has little angel wings on its back. And does the doll. The dolls dress is styled to look like a white night gown. With it is a necklace. Or what really is a key strung on twine. The only rooms in the house with locks are the master bedroom and bathroom. Neither are key locks. Still, despite being left to guard the desolate room without its porcelain arm, the doll is well kept. Its curly white hair is without frizz, and unlike its feathered bed's sheets, her silk dress is clean and without holes. Her other arm and legs all have at least one band-aid on each limb. But porcelain skin doesn't bleed. Only air lays underneath. Yet the band-aids still remain. They covered little scratches. The child had loved it to pain, to injury, to aid, to treatment, to be cared for. It had been loved to humanity. Perhaps that it is what it means to be human.

The first door to the left is a child's bedroom.

It's empty.

With only a ladder left within it. The lights don't turn on anymore. One of the two bulbs is gone. The other light has died despite not being gone. There is no box of bulbs to replace it. Or any tools. The floor has no rugs or carpet. No painting, posters, or photos line the walls.

The final door.

Open it.

Does

it even

matter?

what it looks like..

what i look like..?

they won't care either way. they don't love me.

even the doll is more human than

me.

the river

near

see the graves

join

bury

not human

rotting.

[setsuntamew]

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have.

No one tagged me; I just found this shit wandering around tumblr...as it goes. And I wanted to do it because it looked fun and I wanted to be included in the fun :D

The first week of school has come and gone- mostly. It’s the same shit with different labels, as always, and the same dump of "this is so important, your entire academic future depends on it" speeches as always. (Finding Hope Like Bleeding Cowboys at Destiny's Crossroads, vashwood + millionsummers mid-00s high school au)

He can’t remember anything before he wandered his way here and fell victim to the mercy of others. (memories and melodies within, Eriks!Vash feat. amnesia and music)

Akira has never thought of himself as a romantic, but he can’t shake the almost sickly feeling he gets when he dwells on memories of that afternoon in the nurse’s office. (practice, extremely fucked up/dead dove do not eat marushu)

Zazie doesn’t pick sides; they’re more interested in their own shit and their own family and most importantly: staying alive. (No Sides, Zazie/Razlo mafia au drabble)

Roxas was dreaming, or at least he thought so. (Camp Friendship, akuroku + sorikai camp au that I've been writing on and off since 2006)

things that did not happen in a love affair are things that happened in a love affair (not a love poem, millionsummers poem from Legato pov)

Legato has the power to support anyone he wants and destroy anyone who gets in his way; Legato has powers beyond anyone else, stronger and more refined than anyone with similar powers, and in a class above everyone else: he could choose whoever he wanted and change their fate. (Twist of Fate, millionsummers fantasy au drabble)

Legato can do anything for Master Knives; Legato will do anything for Master Knives; Legato has never shied away from anything for Master Knives, no matter how awe-inspiring or abhorrent it is, without needing anything more than to stand by Master Knives's side and serve his needs. (An Unjust Reward, Legato & Vash have to work together and Legato hates it)

It’s something delicate. It’s something bright. It’s something unknowable and it’s something born of desperation. Legato would never ask Master Knives to defile himself for his sake and he would never deny anything Master Knives offered him. (Forbidden Fruit, millionsummers cannibalism)

Much like every fatalistic religious text promised, it finally happened: one day, an angel of justice came from on high and destroyed all who were unworthy, sparing but one from his path of righteous ruin. (Reckoning, millionsummers fallen angel au drabble)

Tagging: @dragonofeternal @clockworkspider @steinozean @ehyde @ciaran @the-wyld-october @nomette and anyone else who wants to do it; I'm not smart enough to tag enough people

[vaccerelli]

it was agreed upon by the remaining military cabinet of the Order that they should attempt to kill the Master of the Mountain Temple before their own world crumbled around them into ruin if for no other reason than to balance the scales of a thousand years of misery inflicted by the Master and his temple of deranged, bellicose monks. 

the potentials and possibilities of killing a seemingly immortal man who had lived for more than eleven centuries presented them with natural, theological, and practical concerns, for it was known the Master was born a religious figure in his own time, and had sculpted the Mountain Temple from the tip of Mt. Damskene over the course of two hundred years. in those centuries following it they expanded the Mountain Temple into an enormous carved complex, stretching deep into the guts of the Damskene and outward to cover the slopes, an effort of a millennia of tributary monks and divinely-inspired architects. this made the concept of killing the Master more arduous and quarrelsome, as it was unknown just what kind of creature he was. if he was a sorcerer, then they could still kill his flesh, but his essence would return. if he was a revenant, they would merely need to destroy the source of his undead energies. if he was a sophont or technologist, they would have to find his core and wipe it clean. it was a discussion that took nearly two years before a solution was hit upon by a metaphysician who said to send him a poisoned gift. a heshegore. a beautiful bird from the nightmares of a demon, unspeakably beautiful and angelic, it was born from the primum of infernal nightmares, forged by the damned to be the aspect of pure beauty. for what horrifies a demon more than what brings delight? 

it was further agreed upon that the delivery must be made under the auspices of war oracles and proper ordermen, for this was no furtive assassination, knives in the dark, bloody blades, but an open statement of contempt for the Master and his misanthropic treatment of the border between the Damskene territory and periphery of the Order. the villages on the edge of that frontier had suffered all crimes, all cruelties imaginable at the hands of his vile monks. what could anyone do? the monks were trained in the highest of the Art, a martial force that either achieved some physical harmony or dismembered men and broke armor with merely the force of sinew and limb. any protest was met with immediate lethal violence or worse. the slow Art was something that was dispensed so rarely it was mostly whispered about in rumor. and worst of all, the Master, who was so powerful in the art as to be something unholy and superhuman. 

before the Order, when it had been a scattered kingdom, King XI Grantham had rode with a whole army to extinguish the Master and his Mountain Temple. the Master slapped his head off his body and threw his horse amidst his army and according to legend struck down the king's royal protectorate and all the generals in the space of a few minutes, even when struck through with sword and lance and grapeshot. the monks had run into the army itself and routed them easily, and King XI Grantham's kingdom followed the king and dissolved into the anarchist interregnum. some of the political scientists of the Order labeled that as the true end of their part of the world. it was known that things were getting far worse, if not just in distant lands, in the lands of the Order as well. it was always hot, to the point the elderly and the very young died in droves during the peaks of summer. there was never enough food and what they imported sometimes arrived contaminated from the journey. the rich fields between territories were now scrapyards and fields of ash, burnt by the heat, all the farmers and frontiermen dead. wars broke out and killed the soldiers and protectors alike. even cossetted and covetous as they were, even the nobility knew they existed on sufferance and borrowed time. something deep in the world had fractured, not some great cataclysm or armageddon of fire and chaos, but something deeper, something unfortunate, something that starved and burned and made grotesqueries of the living world, made water into poison and food into tasteless burnt mush. even the meat of animals tasted of wrongness. in thirty, fifty years time all the castles and towers of the Order would be empty, mute stoned, layered in ash and dried blood and filled with starved corpses. 

in a thousand years time -- mayhap merely even a hundred -- some new species could occupy them, and tremble in wonder what curse had ravaged these lands so. hopefully they would not be so frail as the world of now, which was faltering in their stride like a cancerous old man. 

but they were still the men of the Order, and what they could do, they would do. trespass had been visited upon the people of their lands, and so they would pay unto that evil with the righteousness they knew they were capable of. they had all heard rumors from the south, of the rising death-cults, of the groups that felt like purposeful annihilation through endless war was better than slow starvation, and while some of the cabinet, in the pitch of night to their spouses and concubines and collected children, agreed in their heart that it was better to die in battle, they knew that to make endless war just to die would be an inglorious end, for inglorious fools. the advanced world had fallen some centuries before and the grand technologies of the old fathers had rusted away and withered or simply shut down, the foul and exotic energies used to sustain them suddenly unable to appear and coalesce. some saw that as a great mercy amidst the tragedy. it had given rise to the new kingdom, which was strong and hearty, full of living children and proud warriors. whatever mistakes the old fathers had made were wiped clean with the loss of their monumental cities and vast technological empires, now just graveyards of steel and glass and blank static-issuing screens that faltered and died one by one. once in a great while an artifact would be revealed to be still functioning and more often than not many would die at the misuse and misapplication of whatever it was intended to be. 

[prettysleeve]

hi I’m amelia!! I’m 24, bi, polyamorous, and I use she/he pronouns, though generally i lean more toward feminine terms (my gender is a bag of marbles i keep spilling and can never pick all of them up lol)

this blog is 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. if you are a minor or don’t have your age clearly stated on your blog you will be blocked.

DNI: racists, transphobes, homophobes, pedophiles, nazis, misogynists, conservatives, minors

disclaimer: everything on this blog is consensual and/or a fantasy. informed consent is always necessary!

disclaimer #2: I made this side blog because I discovered some stuff I didn’t know I’d be into before, so that may happen again! so these are subject to change/things may be added. probably not gonna consistently tag kinks unless someone asks for a specific one to be tagged, so feel free to ask me to tag anything you don’t wanna see!

some things I’m into: praise, light to medium degradation, objectification, obedience, daddy/mommy kink, cgl, pet play, inspections, power dynamics (teacher/student, doctor/patient, etc), somno, cnc (usually more into coercive cnc than violent cnc but sometimes i see violent fantasies that are exceptions lol), impact play, choking, mindbreak, ownership, collars, spit/drool. also idk how to phrase this as a kink but I love come. please come in me, on me, come excessively, multiple times, etc etc <3

some things i'm just starting to get into/only lightly into: light ageplay, hypnosis, monsterfucking, bloodplay/knives, stalker fantasies, kidnapping, crying/tears, intox, breeding (but not pregnancy), manipulation/gaslighting

some things i like to be called: princess, kitten, puppy, good girl/good boy, angel, pet, toy, pretty, cute, needy, cocksleeve, rape toy/doll. i like insults best when combined with nice things! so like, "pretty cocksleeve" or "good rape toy" or "dumb puppy" or "so cute and pathetic" or "sweet little slut" etc etc. these are just ideas, feel free to get creative lol

things I’m definitely not into: scat, vomit, piss, ruined orgasms, hard degradation (i do not want to be called worthless or anything like that), master/slave dynamics

tags i'll use: i'll only consistently tag things I’m specifically asked to tag. original posts will be tagged "toy talks". please ask me to tag anything you need tagged!

rules for interaction: asks are welcome but i can't promise how consistent i'll be about answering! flirting/playing in my asks is cool and fun 💘 if you're wondering about a kink you don't see listed in my likes or dislikes, please send an ask asking how i feel about it before trying to engage with me around it. mutuals can DM me!! it’s encouraged even!! i’m not super consistent at replying :( but making friends would be fun!! i'm just a little bad at it sometimes haha

thank you for reading! have a nice day!! <3

[multiverse-imagines]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Knives x Reader

Song fic, Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) by AURORA

-

You almost considered it a fever dream; The day you were found by Knives Millions. It was the day that Lost July became, well, Lost. After an altercation with his Brother, Vash The Stampede, Vash's Angel Arm decimated the entire city.

You had been left in the rubble. A small toddler of maybe four or five. Who your parents had been, where they were now, or if they had been looking for you didn't matter. As Knives walked about the rubble, pleased with his deed, he found you. Sniveling under what remained of a house, a tilted piece of material that was no longer recognizable. Your arm was gashed open, and your leg appeared to be broken, but you didn't scream any longer.

He didn't know why he took you. To this day, nearly thirty-five years later, he still had no clue why he had plucked you off of the ground and brought you home to his troop of The Gung-Ho Guns.

However he never allowed you to even pick up a gun, or any weapon for that matter. You remained something along the lines of his pet. A little pet human who depended on him endlessly, and loved him eternally. He provided you with a proper diet, fitting and fashionable clothing, and a comfortable living quarters which resided next to his own.

It was when you were 15 that he began to include you in on what he really did in life, and his true goals. Eradicating all human life on Gunsmoke, and this creating a perfect world for him, Vash, and the rest of the plants. And although his time with you and the Guns was finite, he had promised you and the others painless deaths once he had achieved his goal. He made it very clear you were not to beg for your life in His paradise.

After that year, the countdown began. More cities began disappearing off the map, and the people with them.

5: Juneora Rock fell when you were 19, and it was also the year you realized you had fallen for Knives.

4: May turned to ruins when you had turned 23, and by then you had told Knives of your feelings. It would take a year for him to accept this, and actually indulge your "incessant fantasy"

3: December fell just before you turned 26, and Knives had fully succumbed to your relationship. His favorite pet, his love, his toy.

2: Augusta fell at age 32, in which you had to console him at the death of his brother. This future had been for him too. Why did he have to fight it?

1: Octovern was the last city to die just 3 years later. All of the humans had perished, save for those within the remaining Gung-Ho Guns, and yourself.

Five members remained, and it was this day at the end of Gunsmoke that the seven of you stood in a circle with Knives in the middle.

"Thank you for everything. Thank you for helping me create my Paradise. Thank you for your Loyalty. Now my gift to you, is the death you've been searching for." He said pointing the silver gun that had once belonged to his brother to the sky as he cocked it to the ready.

5, 4, 3, 2, he shot them all in the head. Clean shots that wouldn't cause them pain. Their bodies falling with a hollow thud in the cold floor of the otherwise empty room. He paused at Legato. His right hand man. Knives seemed to ever so slightly hesitate. This gave Legato a moment to speak.

"Thank you, My Master. My Love." He says before Knives pulls the trigger, his eyes closing.

Legato hits the floor. 1.

Now it was just the two of you. You look up to him, trying not to have any pleading emotion within your eyes. He leans down to press his lips to yours. Heated, passionate, and quite literally your last kiss. You wished he would fuck you one last time, but that would just be delaying the inevitable. It would be asking too much of him.

"Legato kind of stole my words, Master Knives. Thank you for allowing me to stay by your side." A smile crept across your face, serene and accepting of the bullet that had your name on it.

"I've finally achieved my dream. I just wish He could have seen it." Tears streamed down his face.

"It is your decision to enter this era alone, My Love. One I have always respected." The tears began welling up behind your own eyes.

"This world is not meant for lowly humans such as yourself. Such resources would be wasted by your need for consumption." He recited with no malice in his voice. They were words you'd heard a Million Times. He placed the barrel against your forehead, the gun clicking the bullet in place in the chamber. You knew he was killing you for mercy.

"I will Miss you, Master. I love you, Knives." Your voice waivers as a year slides down your cheek.

"Me too, My Pet. May you find peace in death." His eyes are already closed when he pulls the trigger, and Bang, you are dead.

You felt yourself above your body, though a pressure in your back, and waist remained as you looked down to see Knives holding you in his arms. You can slowly hear the screams of his crying begin to fade as your soul detached from this life more and more. You wave goodbye as you depart knowing you have been saved from the awful things in life that would come from the world he created.

[comfort-questing]

flame to dark (p1)

"I feel strangely comforted by the fact you now have an assistant, Diluc."

A fine sentiment for his foster-brother to espouse - Diluc Ragvindr thought, as he leaned on the bar in the dwindling lamplight. Kaeya would see the sky fall before he took an assistant of his own. And in any case, just because someone had helped him out a few times didn't mean they were in his confidence; you couldn't afford to give confidence lightly, these days.

And so he'd seen the little golden-haired Traveler and their fluttery companion off into the cricket-ridden night of Mondstat, and held the door for the others too, as they made their way back out through the hills towards the Dawn Winery. Coming, Master Diluc?

In a little while, he'd said, and leaned his good shoulder against the doorway, unclenching his gritted teeth long enough to smile. Long enough to see the last one leave, towards the front gate and the carriages, and the silence fall in the Angel's Share common room.

Behind the counter the torn, bloodied brown coat he'd hidden there was still trailing on the floor. He kicked at it with one boot, ineffectually; then crouched down, cautiously, a hand to the bar to steady himself as his head whirled with the motion.

Wouldn't do to let tomorrow's bartender see that. Best to leave as little evidence as possible, and as few witnesses to the facts of the matter as could be.

Legends didn't bleed. The Darknight Hero didn't bleed. And most especially, Diluc Ragvindr didn't bleed on a night he was supposed to have been standing behind the bar all evening.

He pulled himself upright hand over hand by the cabinet, the instability of his legs redoubled now that the tension of performing for the crowd was gone, and made his way across the room. He fed the cloth to the fire, ragged piece by piece, his hands shaking and strangely numb as he finished the damage the Abyss Mages and their hilichurl minions had begun.

The ice was in his bones now, a chill sharp as knives, despite the bright flames on the hearth in front of him. The right shoulder of his shirt was shredded from a skid across the ground, the skin beneath a mess of shallow scrapes, dried blood stinging as it tugged loose with each motion. He could see the stains starting through his replacement jacket; he'd spoiled this one, too, it looked like. Blast.

The less said about his left side, the better. At least the bloodstains hadn't soaked through there yet. But every breath shifted and creaked through his body in a way that it probably shouldn't, and the spreading warmth beneath the fabric was ominous.

Could Father see him now, from somewhere beyond the veil of death? Would he be proud of him, or just shake his head and say Diluc, you're making everything your responsibility again?

"But it is my responsibility," he said, into the empty common room. "Mondstat. Our people. Isn't it?"

There was no answer, of course. Just the late-night sounds of the city settling into rest outside - a whistling night watchman, a cluster of rowdy workmen making their way homeward, a dog barking. He looked down and saw the flame crawling up the piece of his ruined jacket towards his fingers, and dropped it to the hearth with a start.

O winds of mercy, it hurt to breathe. He was so tired, and so very cold. He could go upstairs and patch up his wounds tonight just like he did every other night of mishaps and mayhem, before he sailed home across Cider Lake - but that would require moving his stiff legs that had fallen asleep under him, and making his clumsy numb fingers do some work despite their alarming lack of feeling.

Still, sitting by the tavern hearth all night wouldn't help anything. So Diluc clenched his teeth again and tossed the last fragments of his jacket onto the embers, and put his palms onto the floor in some imitation of support as he tried to gather his feet under him.

He made it to his hands and knees before the room lurched, inexplicably. Fiery pain blossomed through his side as he gasped for air, shivering in the grip of the chills running through him, tousled bright hair slipping free of its bunch and covering his face.

How many of those Abyss Mages had there even been, tonight? How many of their icy blades had he taken, even with Traveler and their friends there to assist him? And how many more - he wondered, grimly, as he struggled to keep his grip on consciousness - how many more would there be, next time the Abyss Order tried to deal with him?

On the heels of that unpropitious thought, he came aware of the knocking on the door.

"We're closed for tonight," he said, with all the strength he could muster, hoping that whatever misguided attempted patron wouldn't be able to discern that the voice was coming from next to the floorboards. "Come again in the evening."

"Diluc, sir?"

He knew that voice, both in its tones of command and in its moments of warm friendliness. Tempting, to open the door and let her in. But it was better not to put too much evidence in her way for her to ignore. Sir, she'd called him, and that was some hope that she came as herself, and not as the Acting Grand Master. But if he'd misheard, if he'd misguessed -

"We're closed," he said again, hoarsely.

He looked down at his hands and saw, with odd distinctness, that his nails were tinged blue-gray, as if he'd been climbing in Dragonspine without gloves. The shivering had returned with a vengeance, so that his locked elbows were wobbling underneath him.

Now or never...

One last desperate attempt got his feet on the floor, and then one hand to the nearest table to pull himself upright -

And then he was falling, and the fire and the dark whirling together in his sight, and somewhere nearby him the sound of splintering wood.

[breakthings-archived]

𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝟓 — 𝟏𝟎 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄. | 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 - SCORPIONS: My body is burning, it starts to shout / Desire is coming, it breaks out loud / Lust is in cages 'til storm breaks loose / Just have to make it with someone I choose.

𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 - THE EAGLES: Mirrors on the ceiling / The pink champagne on ice / And she said, 'We are all just prisoners here / Of our own device" / And in the master's chambers / They gathered for the feast / They stab it with their steely knives / But they just can't kill the beast!

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 - AC/DC: Back in black / I hit the sack / I've been too long, I'm glad to be back / Yes, I'm let loose / From the noose / That's kept me hanging about / I've been looking at the sky 'Cause it's gettin' me high / Forget the hearse 'cause I never die / I got nine lives, Cat's eyes / Abusin' every one of them and running wild.

𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄- DEF LEPPARD: Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on / Livin' like a lover with a radar phone / Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp / Demolition woman, can I be your man?

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋- POISON: But you know you got to stick to your guns / When it all comes down / Cause sometimes you can't choose / It's like heads they win / Tails you're gonna lose / Win big - mama's fallen angel / Lose big - living out her lies / Wants it all - mama's fallen angel / Lose it all, rolling the dice of her life.

𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝟓 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄.

“the ways i sometimes want both to be looked at & to disappear” — Safia Elhillo, from Home Is Not a Country; “Boys”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been me. Do not ask who I am and do not ask me to remain the same.” — Fernando Pessoa / Michel Foucault

“I was with them and yet I was alone.” — Albert Camus

“Crawl inside this body - find me where I am most ruined. Love me there. I’m sure there are aspects of my personality buried within me that will surface as soon as I know I am completely loved.”― Rune Lazuli / Jerzy Kosiński

“Lord, I worry that love is violence.” ― Jose Olivarez

tagged by: @mysharxna

tagging: @cultesdesghoules @starskatr @survivedbefore @chainsawcutiie & whoever else wants to!

[dreamingofdisasters]

Don’t let them get to you

Each feeling that I’m sitting next to

On the bus on the highway to the bottom

of the sea

I talk too much at the people I’ve trapped

Crashing my waves on their cornered sands

No one asking me to even speak

Don’t let them talk to you

The strangers in my bedroom closet

Skeletons of things I’ve ruined before

I knew better

I sleep too much in my icebox alone

Unconscious but obnoxious

I don’t want to be my own friend either

Don’t let them get to you

The ghosts of lovers past appearing

In the mirror of my medicine cabinet

Hands around me

I spill my guts again in my notes app

Sickly sweet words bubbling up

Like the elixirs I drank to forget them

And I’m still in love

With everyone who’s ever indulged my heart's pleas

And I’m still thinking

Of every word you ever said to me

I remember every second that I thought was forever

A piece of cracked pavement waiting for the rain to make me wetter

I could never hurt the frogs in school but I’m a master of dissection

Watch while I take your words and make a new creature collection

The grotesque dancing of disjointed feelings

Around my head’s frequent reeling

Snatching my breath

Like you used to with your smile

I’m putting back together the pieces of me

But I stuck my fingers together with super glue

The sharp edge puzzle doesn’t cut as deep

As I desperately want it to

I’m always staring at the ceiling of

The sistine chapel in my apartment bedroom

I painted it laying on my back

You between my thighs

My passion project

The angels and the saints are all lighting up

Smoke blanketing my shivering body

They save the good shit for the ones who get to heaven

I’m close enough for the contact high

But far enough away for my alibi

Because I won’t be a saint

I don’t smoke, I drink

Pouring my celestial thoughts

Down the kitchen sink

And I’m too much for every basket case savior

Pack up the picnic

Throw the forks and knives in the river

You never meant to dissolve me

But I'm a sugar cube in bad western iced tea

I coat your tongue with grit and leaves

I’ll stay there if you only let me

Or leave me and the finger sandwiches I won’t eat

For the ants

And I look through my pictures in the lens

Of the people who think they'd miss me

But I know deep down there would be relief

I'm no one's chosen memory

I'm just an attention thief

- H

[saeysooo]

♚ yandere arcana ; main 6 headcanons {crybaby} ||

♡ tw: psychological terror, possession, manipulation, murder ♡ gender-neutral / female apprentice

♜ asra alnazar ; tag, you’re it ♜

They were your master, you their apprentice; But that relationship wasn’t enough to suffice Asra. NOT EVEN CLOSE! They wanted to be yours... Or more so they wanted you to be theirs!

They would watch you through your windows... In fact, they would follow you everywhere! You were so perfect to them, especially whenever you would get undressed after a long day of training. Your soft skin, the adoring stare in your innocent gaze... And yet you had no idea who was watching you behind open curtains.

“You’re so cute! I can just cut you up!”

“Let’s go on an adventure together... What do you say, darling? No..? It’s funny how you think you have a choice!!”

“Then how about we play tag~? If I win, you’re mine. If you win... Well, you’re still mine! You’re mine, ALL MINE!! Run darling!! RUN!”

Maniacal laughter invaded your thoughts, crawling across your skin as you ran for you fragile little life.

They pushed you to the ground, holding you in their dominating grip. At a loss for words, it was too late to scream for help, cry. And even if you did, they wouldn’t let you go!! YOU LOST THE GAME!!

They had no idea before... That YOU were their poison; the bittersweet wonder that they were always searching for on all their adventures into the unknown. There was no way they can give up such a rare flower!

Fluffy, white hair tickled your cheek, their lips dragging across your skin, leaving the mark of their adoration upon you.

“My mother used to tell me that I should pick the best lover... Oh, I love it when I hear your breathing... I know that you won’t ever leave me!”

Where were you...? CAN ANYONE HEAR?! HELP, PLEASE!! ...Ha, you’re talking to yourself!! Silly apprentice, they trapped you in their oasis~!!

♜ julian devorak ; mad hatter ♜

He’s absolutely. Fucking. INSANE.

Julian Devorak was CRAZY for you! Perhaps it was the drugs he experimented with that drove him to his insanity... Or not!

“WHERE IS MY PRESCRIPTION?!”

Maybe it was just the sole factor that you were the only person that showed so much attention to him!! He drowned himself in your touch, the mere sight of you. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do just to hear you call him such endearing things; things only reserved for HIM!

“Wonderland is wherever you are, pumpkin!!”

There wasn’t one dream where you weren’t in it; driving him absolutely nuts. There were so many wondrous things the two of you would do: Skinny dipping in a rabbit hole, painting roses red with his blood, getting high together off helium. Or perhaps the two of you can get drunk off a blue caterpillar and fool around?

The feeling of you being in his mere presence made him want to tear the skin off of him, he wanted so badly just to hold you!!

“IT’S ALWAYS JULIAN NO, JULIAN PLEASE JUST LISTEN! Pumpkin, you DON’T UNDERSTAND! My brain is absolutely SCATTERED whenever you are around, can’t you see!?!”

And by lord how much he loved roleplaying in the bedroom with you. He would go as far as to make costumes and everything to get the scene he wanted to play out absolutely perfect!

“How about this~ Oh I know let’s do some improv acting!! It can be a drama! You can be Alice, and I’ll be the Mad Hatter!”

No matter who you told, nobody would accept or believe that Julian was absolutely insane. He was beyond a histrionic, and it was all because of you. You did this to him. You made him fall in love so fucking hard it drove him mad. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! 

♜ nadia satrinava ; cake ♜

Everything about you was absolutely divine to the Countess. They would bend over backwards to make you happy, to have you stay in their loving gaze. Even if you wanted to leave... She wouldn’t allow it! Can’t you see?! YOU’RE ALL HERS!

Every night you would return home, Nadia felt as if a huge part of herself was missing. You were perfect to her, don’t get her wrong... But there was one ingredient to you missing that was stopping you from being absolutely divine: Her love.

You were warm to her like an oven, your kisses upon her cheek always so sweet like sugar. Your fingers were silk-like, every single time you touched her. Your skin tasted like buttercream and you smelled like vanilla! Every sense she felt around you was filled with empty calories... Calories that would never satisfy her until you were all hers.

You saw her as nothing but a friend... And oh how much she hated that. The thought of you not being more than such a berating title made her skin crawl, her jaw tightening with anger. 

It was when you started dating someone else that she felt more than betrayal... Oh no she went ABSOLUTELY. FUCKING. MAD. 

“I am NOT a piece of cake, flower!! How can you just discard me like I didn’t love you more than them?! HOW CAN YOU LEAVE ME WITH NOTHING BUT A FROSTED HEART THAT WAS SUPPOSE TO BE YOURS?!”

“I planned everything out perfectly when I was with you!! The dates, the outfits, the sex! ALL OF IT!!”

Nonetheless... she found a way to forgive you. That’s what a Countess does, forgive those who have made mistakes!! Oh how much you will miss your lover... But it will be okay! Soon you will have another!!

“I’m taking back what’s mine... And showing you a slice of heaven that you can have when you are mine. Not that you weren’t already mine~!”

♜ muriel of the kokhuri ; teddy bear ♜

What was once his cold, exposed heart? He couldn’t even remember anymore. Despite all his attempts to push you away, isolate himself once more... You showed him love, gave him a space in your heart that was unmeasurable. And he didn’t want to admit how much he loved it.

You could never be scared of Muriel, knowing he was just a big teddy bear! You found it absolutely endearing whenever he talked in his sleep, saying all the things he would do to you, nervous beyond belief!!

It was when you started finding knives under his pillow in the morning, crumpled photos that he had drawn of you, destroyed pieces of wood that he whittled of you... That doubt began to sprout in the midst of your naive heart. Should you be scared?

What was once a comforting and quiet energy... Became malicious and violent. His love for you seemed to only extend farther than what you could perceive “healthy.” How can love become so violent?! What happened to the sweet, gentle giant that sparked a newfound feeling in his mind?!

There was only one thing you wish you did... RUN.

It was when you disposed of the myrrh he had given you to forget him... That he went absolutely mad. How can you just try to dispose of him?! ACT LIKE YOU DIDN’T KNOW HIM? HOW COULD YOU??!

What was a normal, rainy day was filled with nothing but sheer terror. He was inside your home!! WHO WAS HE?! ... YOU’RE SCARED! But oh how you had brought this upon yourself!! SO WHAT IF YOU’RE FUCKING SCARED?!

You were unprepared when his heavy breaths radiated off of the walls, bouncing around inside your mind... He was absolutely silent... When he tried to bring a knife down upon you.

♜ portia devorak ; dollhouse ♜

There was nothing Portia wanted more than for you and her to be a perfect couple, someday a perfect family even. Pepi, you, and her... Alone in her cottage, living a domestic life. How wonderful does that sound? Absolutely HEAVENLY to her, that’s for sure!!

To the public, you and Portia were, in fact, the perfect couple! She was absolutely angelic to anyone who met her eye, and you were her darling lover, an endearing doll of hers that she kept close to her. She opened the walls of her home to you, to her heart!

But soon people started to see something... different between you two. Were you really as perfect as you looked?

She’s coming... SHE’S COMING!! Swinging the attic door open, her wide smile offered an array of madness that couldn’t begin to be assessed. Her giggles filled your ears, what was once something you loved became something you came to fear. 

When was the last time you truly thought for yourself? Portia did everything for you. She coddled you, fed you, dressed you, did your makeup, told you when you can speak, when you were to sleep. There wasn’t a moment where you were anything else but her rag doll, controlled and motivated under her loving hand.

“You were absolutely wonderful today, doll!! The way people looked at us. We’re perfect together!! EVERYONE THINKS IT, DON’T YOU?”

No matter how perfect everyone thought the two of you to be, you saw what everyone else didn’t see of Portia... How terrifyingly. Fucking. Insane she was.

But this is all your fault. You tried to run, tried to ruin the perfect facade Portia built up in her head. She just had to take things into her own hands to make sure you stayed! AND NOW LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!

♜ lucio morgasson ; milk and cookies ♜

What else is there to say?! He LOVES YOU!! 

He locked the doors of the palace at night. He needed to know you were there with him, in his arms, sound asleep... But when you tried to run, Lucio lost his trust in you; Trust that you can be alone.

“YOU SHOULD THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU TRY TO FUCKING CALL FOR HELP AGAIN, LITTLE BIRD!!”

Every night became the same; Lucio spiking the milk that put you to sleep; enough poison in it where he would be able to bend you to his will. Day by day, you grew weaker, unable to think for yourself. He took his chance to hold you then, singing a lullaby to you until you were... absolutely... knocked out...

“Do you want me, little bird? Of course, I’ll hold you!! I’m here!”

When the plague hit, did Lucio care? Absolutely not!! All that mattered was that you were with him, until death did you part! But when Lucio got sick, ill-ridden with the plague... He needed a final resort... Something that would assure you both would be TOGETHER FOREVER

“I baked you cookies, darling bird. Do you like them? ...Do you want to know the secret ingredients? Well, it’s a little bit of sugar... And a LOT of poison! ...Oh look how tired you’re getting. Perhaps I should put you to bed? The plague can’t kill you if I do first~! But don’t worry!! I’ll be join you VERY soon, my beautiful bird!”

He held you close to him, the sickening look in his reddened eyes absolutely deadly, filled with lust. There was nothing more soothing than seeing the pure innocence on your face when you were asleep. He sang you a final lullaby, before he set the room aflame... Ashes, ashes... If he was going to die, you were going to go down with him!! Amongst the fire surrounding him, he found solstice in knowing you were waiting for him, beckoning him to join you in the supple whisper of death. Because even in death... You couldn’t escape him; Death couldn’t do you part!

═════☩══♛══☩═════

*Author’s Note: I re-listened to the crybaby album and heard certain lines in different songs that set off my yandere writing radar. I stayed in my seat for 4 hours writing this as well... So I really hope you enjoyed!

═════☩══♛══☩═════

[pretty-thoughts-and-a-pen]

The Angel with a Knife

Short story about a man who meets an angel, a woman, who changes his life very drastically...

Tagging @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow Thanks for the prompt!

CW: Drugging, kidnapping, knives and cutting, gagging, blood, threats, mentioned face gore

The first time he met Stephanie had been an entirely unremarkable event, and yet, it had been all that was needed to leave him entranced. On that fateful day he had bumped into an angel, in the form of a tall, lithe lady with locks of gold flowing down her back and a smile that could melt the coldest heart. On their first meeting every smile he returned to her had been nervous, small and shy, and the moment they had exchanged numbers, a balloon of happiness had swelled inside him. Three days later, on their second meeting, he would discover she was a knife collector.

Stephanie’s pretty smile had turned almost blinding when, sitting one fine day on a park bench together, he had expressed an interest in seeing her collection. Right then and there she had plunged one slender, nimble hand into her purse and produced the first of her wonders. A pen-knife, with its handle so ornately decorated in a green and maroon, checked pattern. When she twirled and twisted it, he faltered, and asked her to be careful. Her only response was a laugh. Don't worry, she’d said while waving her other hand nonchalantly. And indeed, her control of the knife was so masterful, it might as well have been an extension of her hand.

Maybe that had been the first warning.

Arlo counted his blessings every day he got to spend with her, and these were plentiful, in the one month that they spent dating. At the end of 30 days, Arlo was certain be had found something leading to love. The way his heart beat when he was around her, the way his blood pumped pure warmth into every part of his being, as the effect of what she did to his heart, it all signalled great things to his romantic mind. So, on the 31st day, he brought a bouquet of roses over to her house as a symbol of everything he wanted to convey.

And on the 31st day, she knocked his head into a wall, pinned him down and pressed a cloth coated in chloroform over his mouth, and it was the last time he saw warmth in her smile.

***

Arlo saw Stephanie every day now, without fail. The difference was in the feelings she ignited in him. Dread, clawing up his throat and seizing his speech, and horror, at the thought of everything she had done and still planned to do, were the prime emotions. Now that he was locked in a small, empty room with dark walls closing in from every side, he spent a lot of time just waiting for her next appearance. Fear was all that made his heart go into overdrive now, and it was a decidedly different feeling from the pleasant fluttering he earlier experienced around her. It was much, much worse.

The door opened and instinctively his body jerked. The coarse ropes that kept him tied to the chair, dug into his skin in his futile attempt to get away. The chair’s wooden legs thumped against the floor as it was lifted slightly. And that was the only fruit of his escape attempt. Of course, everything that would come next was unavoidable.

Stephanie flashed him a smile that seemed to mock him with its familiarity. He had found it warm. Beautiful. He had once called her an angel. Now, he would tell her how entirely opposite his opinion was, would scream everything in his mind at the top of his lungs, if it wasn’t for the duct tape stuck tightly against his mouth. As of now, he could only make pitiful little noises that weren’t acknowledged by her in the slightest.

She floated over to the right wall and ran her hand over the knives that were displayed on it. Soundless and graceful like a breeze, she made the atmosphere thick with dreadful anticipation. All the walls were covered with a myriad of her blades, not just knives of all sizes but daggers, box cutters and other weapons too. But when it came to drawing blood, his blood, knives were always her favourite.

A clink sounded. She delicately extracted a sleek paring knife and turned it around in her hands. Once. Twice. Then, she walked back over with a satisfied smirk, raking her eyes over the exposed skin of his chest and arms. Scars criss-crossed the pale, stretched skin in haphazard patterns. Some lines were neat, crisp and clear, others were jagged and moving in all sorts of directions. It didn’t matter to her what she was making. Just that there was a knife in her hand and blood to draw.

Arlo closed his eyes and tried to still his rapidly beating heart, the one thing that had accompanied her presence around him from the very start.

Before she began though, she ripped off the duct tape. “Hello, honey.” Her soft voice was the stuff of dreams, one that got stuck in the imaginations of romantics. Not for Arlo. Not anymore. It reminded him of the good times when she was his dream and not his nightmare. All of that had been ripped away from him, his world turned upside down, in 31 days.

As his eyes swept over the paring knife, his previous resolution to let her know all he thought came back to mind.

“You,” his voice was rough from lack of use; soft, but speaking volumes about the pain and exhaustion he felt, “you used to be my angel. I can’t believe how blind I was to think that. You’re nothing but a demon.”

That made her mockery of a smile drop. Her eyes flashed dangerously, but before she could lash out with her knife, he continued.

“Smile however much you want. Do, say, whatever you want because, I know, I will never love you again. That’s a promise. I do not even know how you sleep at night-"

She quickly grabbed his face with one hand, wrapped firmly around his jaw. Her nails dug into his cheeks and she pulled his face up, hissing. "You shut up right now...”

“Nothing beautiful about you. Just rotten.”

“If you know what’s good for you...”

“Oh, what’s wrong? I’m ruining your precious fun? Wow, I had better keep quiet.”

“Oh yes,” her voice had become like venom now, and she leaned in, inches away from his face, to whisper her next words directly into his soul, “you better keep quiet...

...or I’ll cut your tongue out.”

[smallgayblanket]

New/revised/whatever- List of stuff

Egos (Marks/Jacks) that I have written for or at least actually have thought about HCS/other universes for:  (Just some brief rambles about them, please don't hesitate to ask about them :3)

  -Anti,   Two takes really, I like him soft, like him mean, hes just fun to write, plenty of different ways to spin why he acts out, what he is and all that. My current fav way to portray him is a missing piece of Seans soul, which means hes unstable as a ‘person’ (cough, not really a human but not, not human either.)  And how he has static filled blue eyes but usually hides them with the scary emerald green...

-Jameson,  I will always stand by this kinda universe i created with a friend aages ao that Shawn took away Jamesons voice when being puppeteered by an awful ink creature that shares his body.  Giving Jameson a lovely fear of knives, some scars, and some very damaged vocals..

-Crank, Oh my fucking boi, a near dead human spliced with a bunch of robot parts..human skin tangled with wires and a heart incased in metal..hes a right mess, a voice in his head that makes him feel all sorts of bad.. He tries his best..he cries oil,  I hardly get to write  him but I love him.

-Blank, another big fav oi, black hollow eyes..a tendency to faint... My Hc involves him having been in an accident that almost killed him, leaving him with a very rare heart condition. He also has an aura which..kinda ties into him having a few abilities and stuff. 

-Nes.. He started off as my own kinda Ethan ego, basically Ethan who was mistreated and really lost his marbles..hes great for the real twisted messed up kinda stuff, so dependant on others, a minor murderer, and has been eyed off by a certain ice cream driver for quite some time...

-Were eth,  Okay granted this was literally just kinda an idea that..Eth became a were wolf boi, fangs, tail, ears. Hes just a fun lil pupper

-Eden. Succubus Ethan basically, but well, he again kinda turned into his own thing separate from Ethan. He's got a tail and wings, and hes a lovely lithe thing. He doesnt dare do things without consent, just gets a bit touchy-feely when hes gone without any energy for too long. Very wide stunning saphire eyes. 

- Jackie  Oh my lad..Buff, trans, adorable, sweet. I always love tinkering around with how/what powers he has tbh..and like- I’ve always had the hc that his eyes are lilac?? or gold. Depending on things.. and he works either at a comic book store, a gym, or at the counter of a gas station. Gives the best hugs. Also I love AUS where hes a phoniex because of uhm?? Big fucking red wings??? YES.

-Hen, Getting his accent right is tough but other than that I love writing about the tired doctor living off coffee and ignoring himself in favor of others. 

-Chase The fucking best dad, sunshine lad. Running a vlogging channel and doing his best while combatting depression..I hc him to have chronic fatigue so he has to push himself extra hard. but He does well in trying to get better and look after himself and only slips up like any other helpless human. Very fun to write. 

- Robbie.   Sof.t zombie lad. Drown in a sweater. Stutters and is v quiet. Slow with speech. Struggles to see sometimes. Loves soft textures.Loves attention. Overall soft fucking lad.

-KOTS, To mean known as Simon. Actually v smart, big brain, very scattered n shy and nervous and squirrelish. Loves books n plants, loves nature. Red is his best colour. Warm sweaters and nuzzling and cuddling up. I always get torn between him being a hybrid of human/squirrel or just a lovely soft guy. 

-Yan ! My fem nb/trans gal! They’ll kick ass with their katana, have the hots for Bim, and looove Japanese culture and stuff. Very adorable. Loves pink. 10/10 love to write. 

-Technically I do have a muse for Mark, or..idea? I’m thinking about shoving it into my own oc/thing..but basically he got tortured n abused by Authy so hes not quite like the real life markimoo..just a nervous mess whose dealing with his traumas..

-Bing, Skater lad, yellow/orange eyes, sunflower vibes. Tries his best, clumsy as fuck, great for a laugh when hes not cowering under google. 

-Edward iplier,  Gah my doctor lad.. I have a hc that he Lost arm. In fire..or by dark n wilf.  He has heterochromia too!! One cho ceye one blue one. He is a fucking nerd (Minor adhd lets be honest) He fucking loves space and science and space/science related lights. He has a bat plus with spacey wings. He likes reading, likes being clean and is quite a quiet indulger in food which has left him with a big of a softer figure. Super gentle nature..nothing like the arrogant portrayal we got in some videos. 

-Angus   I love this man!!! Part Aussie, part irish, a whole lot of gruff old dad with a soft spot for nice people and animals, has his own big place, next to a large ass forest. Loads of scars. Loves boots and cameo coloured clothing. A lovely guy when you get past the rough edges. 

Aand onto all my ocs as of writing this (cause you name well know I be writing new ones like..all the time.) 

--------------------

OC’S (My original characters!)

-Jessy, Cowboy-   Choker with gold bell. Lil ears/horns. Spots. Shy but sweet. Hands and feet different colour to rest of skin. Kinda  fur ish feeling rather then just straight-up skin.  Pear shaped figure. Shy lad. Likes to take lots of naps, anxious easily but a big people pleaser too. 

-Ailan and Keros. Moth n butterfly boi.  (Literally just made up with a friend, just a random soft pair of lads tbh nothing too fleshed or spesh)

- Louie - Followed by a dark being/creature/spirit... Yet to determine what else about him, but hes got brown hair, pointed ears and looks lovely in green.

-Quinton  A Hybrid of Demon and Angel otherwise called a Guardian. Quirky, Pan as shit, great dress sense. Extremely calm. Can see auras. Lovely black feathered wings. Bright blue hair.  Kind smile. Works at a little coffee shop in his spare time.

-Ori  Very pure angel boy, previously owned and not very well treated by a god, came crashing down to earth with no memories but his wings intact. Some help him. 

-Lumi  Ghost boy! Died years ago under awful circumstances..now lingers around on earth, sometimes meeting humans who happen to be able to feel or see his presence, he has the ability to make himself solid for short periods of time. 

- Lucio Witchy..dragon soul something or other- Deaf.Paralyzed? In the arms??They might use alot of energy trying to hover around instead of having to use a chair..(I mean how many witches do you see with chairs??).. Although they could not have use of their arms instead, like..paralyzed from the shoulder down- they still have them but theyre effectively useless and easily sore.. (which might make magic really hard, cause theyd have to master it again without their hand gestures.)

- Eztli, Bit of a prick. Basically got cursed to have really weird blood that replished and rejuvinated too fast/too much by a witch he angered. So he turned the curse into a good thing and basically goes out offering himself as a human blood bag for vamps willing to pay in info, items, cash or uh..other services..  

- Gallio Photographer, has hypocalcemia. Haven't really done much else with him tbh.

-Aomi Warlock/witch in training. Downright awful at it. Young and lives in a nice lil cottage outside of the village he was abandoned in.

- Lucas A moonstone gem perma-fusion, he kinda has SPD/DID but he doesn't, cause..hes two gems that became one but not fully. Leaving him to be a bit of a mess and not as strong as other moonstones. 

- Kiyan. A little assistant android!! Created to assist, he can make portals!, He works at a post office. Hes under surveillance by the company that made him and isnt yet aware of many human customs/emotions.. 

- Alex  A very confused, overly optimist Alien who doesn’t know what they are. Come from the planet Eutychia, 4'3. They fucking glow. You know  Kilowatt from space chimps? think that. But hair n freckles and more human and just as  bubbly and energetic. 

-Locus  Mer/Fish boi!  Transparent fins, glowy patches, plays harp + loves music.

-Lir  A Tiny Octopus/Human hybrid lad. Makes little burble and trill noises. Quite harmless. Needs a home. 

Benji (Strawberry shortcake boi- Cursed tape /bandages. Demi half god.? One eye. Uses notes. To communicate but also sign. Really. Good sweets maker)

 Small bois (A collection of tinys because G/T is fucking great okay?)

- Tobias. Literally Made of hair gel. cleary, adorable, aaand Eats soap..amoung other non food items he probably should not ingest but does..

- Hinto  Guy made of foam slime. Very chill n laid back.

- Glowstick bubs. (Alo/aloke -  Green and blue  +  Siro - Yellow n pink.  + Mavi (Vi) Red and silver. + Roxy (Ro) - Orange and  purple )  They’re a cross between glowsticks and lava lamps and its epic- asides the fact they have like.half a brain cell each. Lots of sleeping n lazign around.

- Theo  A tiny ink creature.  A clever little lad, who likes to drawn and write n paint in ink and leave cheeky little black splotches everywhere. A very good writer companion tho. 

- JellyBubs! A collection of tiny sentient jelly babies, hungry lads will raid your cupboards. 

-Miel A tiny little bee boy! Loves flowers <3 

Apocolyse Squad:

The planet Keres,  Left uninhabitable after the invasion that ruined the air and killed almost the entire race.

Sameal o’Ceirin (Being of smoke- partly blind.)

Mallory Thomas (Part cat. Vet, partner to Sam who ends up dying in the canon of their story)

Hamrish Benat  (Hayden. 4 eyes, soft tongue. PTSD. extra tiny heart in wrist. Quite fem/soft. Likes soap cutting vids and stuffed toys/teddies.)

Joshua who cares (An asshole. Staight up. He dies. Fuck him. He sucks ass.)

Andy peters (Strong, kind. Kinda like Tyler shied. Big, tol, but actually pretty soft.)

Adrian  Géarán  (Tail, fire abilities, likes to make little robots. Very weak n has a couple of disabilities that leave him tired n such, which aint great for his esteem or his team when the apoc hits.)

--

Wyatt ???? ?????????????????

Pace- Nerdy. Finds a cat. Observer for the aliens. Is immune to black goop. 

Four - buff. Scary. Deadly. 

Apocolypse Squad Part 2  Small lads who dont derese to be in danger: 

  -Apep, Naga boi  Legs mutate into a cool tail. Hisses, fangs. Adorable loves the sun. bout 20 years old. 

Chris. Camp leader! Biig dad type, redhead, buff, likes gardening and camping, very outdoorsy. Little awkward but great.

Small child Talise- nickname tails? ..   Blind and slightly traumatized by the car crash that killed his mother and ended up with glass in his eyes, very sensitive to noise n textures.     Ends up mutating tails.  6 v young n smol  blocks n colourin

Shirin Parvis. Crystal boi .. trained solider/ royalty.  Tried to warn people before the apoc hit and failed. Now tries to protect the small group of surviors he stumpbles across. 

 Zephaniah, mutation turns him into a  Chameleon basically, just.. a human one. He  Prefers Zeph. Big gamey Nerd-  gets a pet gecko.  16. Quiet. Loves Lazar skirmish and lazers. 

Moyachi, Cactus boi!! Plant bab. Loves water and has clear/lime green tinted aloe/herbal helpful blood. Spikes up at defense from bad people 18/ 19   likes drawing. Pretty grumpy and needs a break.

Colin, nicknames: Coco,  Lady bug lad, who is baby trans  mutation resulted in a weird Red/Orange skin condition basically.  Can predict weather v accurately.       Ballet/dance, 14   Likes cooking. 

Hotaru , Firefly bby  - Glowy bub with antenna,  possibly mutates wings.. Sassy and tired. Turns nocturnal as the apoc progressed. Also becomes Colins first love <3

Zeno  A Siren of sorts.  DC/ hip hopper/   Lost his arm in apoc.  He loooves music alot. Very purple aesthetic and checkerboards.

Liren Pichi, deaf peaches n cream aesthetic boi- Nickname Pichi.  He is alone during the apoc, sneaks aboard and ship and goes missing..

Neighbours AU:

They all live on the homeworld, Ermioni.

Lesbabs:

Blake Aglaia  A human with a gift of being able to put emotions into glass balls.. Red head, quite fem, but gay, sweet, but not mousy. 

Lynx ?? An alien and human, the alien somewhat resides inside its host but they coexist. Sometimes goes feral.  Alien half likes to go by Perse  (Percy)  They have cool looking saliva- viens that run down their arms that are pretty cool- sharper nails/claws. Tendrils. Large ol mouth. Lots of pointy ass teef. Lynx likes to train,go to gym, and kick ass. Big ass butch energy.

Demon fam:

Hyacinth  A six-armed demon with serious parent energy. Big gardener, his body grows flowers depending on his moods/strength of emotions. Purple neck length hair. Great at comfort and cooking. 

Rhys  A Demon with a great curiosity about humans has a sibling, Feri.  Rhys is a big nerd, but very hard to get to know. Not great with emotions, comes across a tad distant and cold without always meaning too. Loves candles and lots of autumn aesthetic. 

Anthos, AKa Ant. Rhys and Hy’s accidentally created/summoned a toddler.. and hes fucking adorable. 

Vato - V   Hy has another bub later on who's more purpley blue with red curled horns and 4 arms.. No tail.. 4 eyes. V cute and inquisitive. Less noisy and wreckless than Ant. 

Roommates:

Douglas Connelly  A regular chubby human bean! Learning to become a chef. He loves food, loves cooking and also loves dancing. Hes a big guy, big cudddler, but a little shy and akward at times. 

Donovan Amores  Real fricking cool and smokin hot Bartender with a love for dogs. Dougs roommate. Has glowing fuckin orbs- donates his heart to a fucking god is smooth as fuck, background heavily Spanish, moved when young.

Haris Alaksim Real name (lost in translation, Huitzilopochtli God of sun and war) ) - A god whom Dono is very close with and donates his heart two one every 3 years during the day of the highest sun. He is a god / Mouros.    Donovan refers to him as “Dios gentil”  or “ Viejo colibrí sabio”   (“El viejo colibrí sabio es un dios gentil” (The old wise hummingbird is a gentle god.)

Donovans Family

Rem (Looks after magical creatures- Cane is from Haris)

Oscar  (Not sure what trinket or power but He’s just a casual store worker w/ good arms. Surprisingly good with knives- perhaps has one from Haris?)

Nicole  (His only sister Makes clothes..possibly got some ability to do with seasons..?  Perhaps earrings or a bracelet from Haris)

Javi  (Makes jam, cute boy, wears cloaks. Maybe has a cute little jar necklace or magic jar??)

Luca (Trans bookkeeper- Talks to Haris most often and likes to ask questions..Has precious books...Possibly a special pen..) 

Forest bois!!

Cypress The soul of the forest - Mentor of Rem. Very calm, very wise. Kinda like master oogway type. 

Unicorn boi, Hes rare, missing a chunk of his horn. Dont hurt him. He doesnt even have a name.

Fyn. Mushroom boy. Protects a gate. Lost his twin during a human-caused fire. Very mad about it. 

Fie. Bat boy. Loves fruit. 

Moh. Fairy/incubus hybrid.  

Tucker. Bunny boi, Best friends with Ainsley. Got some like, punk vibes about him, piercings n such. Not as soft as one would expect but still nice at heart.

Ainsley. Fawn boi, clums, shy, round glasses,  Looks smart but doesn't always know stuff. Very unsure of self. 

Experiment AU: 

Izekiel Iris A being of Paint. Hes made of paint. He has trauma from being experimented on. Slightly depressed. Loves art, loved creating. also regresses to try to deal with said PTSD.  Hard to get to know at first. 

Matty  (Matthew Libelle)   An experiment, part human, part lizard, part dragon. Much smol.  Hes fucking baby and i adore him alot please do ask anything and everything about him. 

Cult bois:

-Nero Aakil   (Means Genius/Orange blossom)   Orange bub  - Leader. Smart. Telepathic link with all cult members.  V corrupted…  (Parents were rich and ignorant)

-Mao Cerise   Pink - Ditzy, Looks after their ‘little bird’ (aka Jey) 

-Jey Michael Cherubim   Fallen angel -  Corrupted..desaturating and weak.. Was summoned by the cult and captured as a trophy. 

-Jaden Hirav  Looks after a garden of plants both harmless and some not for master. Previously Neros old pet..His  The family was alright but he was moreso raised by like his mum and bro. He was kidnapped from his garden and never seen again. The cult ritual to initiate him into the group failed and he was spliced with plants making him near useless to the cult.

-Rowan maverick - Now known as  Rogue- Red. Lost their tongue. Does Not follow orders to the T but gets their job done.   Has another voice/god/soul looking out for them… Very assassin ready, very perceptive. Wants to get out the cult but knows theyre too far in.. Cool glowy words in the air because they don't have their tongue. Possibly only lives of medication and vitamin pills..possible OD? Possible addiction. They struggle alot with it. 

P - Pax -  God who watches over Rowan. Was killed by the Master but their spirt lives on.

Cato.   Purple - Another smart one.. Possible Wiccan?  Sadist. Mean. Tall.  Scary. Abuse. Twisted. Loves being in the cult. Eventually wants to host Masters soul.. 

Gin Short for Ginger but the real name is Xanthe.  Blind. Also another assassin like Rogue but more obedient.  Doesn't talk often out of fear. 

Benjamin Brandy  (Benji. B) is Gins friend, Gin is trying not to get him involved in the cult but was too late as B had previously already been cursed and dealt with mythical beings..

 Silver bub. Demir. A demon summoned by the cult to complete the collection. Wants out, very stressed.  

Adopted AU: (This is like a mess of some of the boys but younger and in a different timeline to their universes smushed together intoa kinda cute school/adoption au idea.)

Matthew is smol autistic, malnourished and heavily abused both mentally and physically, leading to selective mutism and being a small fragile easily tired bab.  He loves hanging in the library once he gets used to going to some schooling. Gets tutored by Chris? Goes to camp and helps around n has fun..

Jaden, loves the school garden, and likes science class. His family is alright, However he ends up mostly raised by his sister? Or brother? 

Iz is the lil art bab, also in foster care of a big family, not so much abused but semi neglected. Quiet.

Nero is the gifted nerdy child..Parents ignorant. They love history and fictional books and reading and learning.

Benji is the slightly older kid whos possibly maybe a little behind or delayed or..something, they help out with other kids as a buddy? They like to do cooking classes.

DA AU

So this Au was like..the Septic tank births all the egos.

Angus first- He has..some kinda strength I imagine/..

Then Anti, Hen, Jackie. Marv. 

Chase -  He kills himself because of Glitch- also falls in the tank a second time and ends up with odd powers. 

Glitch Starts off as very bad and misunderstood. Turns out they were just highly unstable and required medical treatment.  Their real name is Arius and they cant stomach solid foods all the time. Mostly a liquid diet. They have glitchy fits/static seizures. Very unpleasant. Can enter tech, and its not so great, can get trapped. Can absorb certain amounts of electricity because of this they Got hit by  ightning once and has epic lighting scars!! Up arms..some on neck. All over his chest and back. 

Septic clone AU

Sean giving up bits of soul to make clones ends up in coma

Experiments and torture and odd shit with the egos ensues??

Minecraft AU??  

Yeah i had weird ideas for a cute minecraft gang of minecrafters who had accidents involving getting merged/recded with other creatures traits ect. 

Vail.  -Vex / Human

Snow golom hybrid? Or Blaze?

Slimey boi

Kitsune

Panda lad.

Pokebabs au

Mainly for Matty, Iz and Blank.. were they have pokemon forms and when bonded with a human long enough can evolved into human forms?? 

Horned AU  (With Troiseh/Glitch-in-the-static)

Shiro  -Prince lad  (This is their lad :3)

Junji - Battery..whump/slave/lost prince 

Isao Asuka -  Shiros Royal Guard 

Alien AU

Hami if he were..alien instead of being a human in an apoc basically. 

Angel AU stuff: 

Good omens inspired boi

Leo Halvar   Part..humany..demon..Cambion are according to google "In late European mythology and literature, a cambion is the offspring of an incubus, succubus, or another demon with a human, or of an incubus and succubus"

Ryan  Hot archangel guy: One wing, demon hunter thing.. Good kinda reforming from a less nice lifestyle previously. 

Mute angel possibly demon idk- -   Latif? Emmet? Evan? 

Long fringe shy boy-  Cael / Lox