Tumgik
#emeraldkyber
redheadbigshoes · 2 years
Note
Im 16 and for alot of my life i though i was bi, yesterday i realised, ive never liked men irl only fictional character men or actors, ive fell in love with so many women in my life but since i live in a largely south asian area, i can fall in love. I feel scared to admit im lesbian.
You’re definitely not alone. It really is scary to admit you’re a lesbian, I’ve been through that and I’m pretty sure a lot of other lesbians have as well. And accepting that can be even harder when we live somewhere not really supportive of the community.
You’re welcome to send any asks or dm me if you need someone to talk/vent. Also, welcome to the lesbian community 💖🤍🧡
8 notes · View notes
bingusbongbogus · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
That Adam Sandler meme template but it's the fan made Faith chapter @emeraldkyber and I made
147 notes · View notes
hyst3r1a-113 · 2 months
Text
Because @emeraldkyber encouraged this idea (consider this a gift), I present you this
Tumblr media
Don't ask what came into my mind when I worked on this, not even I know 😭
10 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
by user emeraldkyber on tiktok
Tumblr media
23 notes · View notes
Note
K this is pretty dark so if you dont want to write it you dont have to
Charlie being kidnapped and tortured by du'met instead of the complicit death, since the rest of the crew think he was dead they escaped without him, a few months later the police find him and bring him back.
As the first ahhhhh my first request I am very happy. I hope that you like it. Originally the one-shot should not be that long but oh well but again I hope you like it @emeraldkyber
~ Tears in humiliated eyes ~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tumblr media
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warnings !!! : It's a dark One-Shot , if you can't handle it or can't read it , you shouldn't read it, minors don't interact
Fandoms : The dark pictures , The devil in me
Tags : blood , gore , torture , loss of limbs , charackter death , implied r*pe , obsession , loss of reality
Charlie Lonnit x Du'met ( kinda )
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How long had it been now ? Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months or even years. He did not know in the past moons that passed over the estate had become insignificant. Why should it matter to him, not anymore, not since they left him behind. Their boss, their friend and something like a substitute father. But it was his own fault, wasn't it?
Or was it something else, but the blade of the knife that had become almost familiar seemed to be the answer. No, it was his sin, he had to atone for his actions towards his team. He was eager to get here, anything but going broke, pushing his team to the max and only the best, failure was not an option. His opinion that he was above the others was a distant echo as the blade touched his body for the first time. But also a distant memory of many.
The blue bright eyes opened abruptly and pain seized his body immediately. He knew the room only too well his personal macabre left. He did not have to look at his hands and feet to see the metal shackles on them. The weight of the metal lay heavily on his exhausted body and his wrists and ankles were already sore.
It wasn't that it was blue, but the flesh was clearly bruised and burned with every movement of the heavy metal. His neck was stiff and his back ached as he rose from his sitting position on the floor. Since he had no bed in his room, the stone-covered floor was the only means of sleep. His once so cleanly kept formal clothes were hardly recognizable.
He had lost his shoes on the cliffs as well as his glasses, which had broken shortly after his capture. The once white shirt of blood and dirt streaked as well as torn if Du'met could not wait. Could not wait to play with his toys new games. His left trouser leg was torn off when he tried to jump over a splintered window which only led to his fall. His suit vest hung loosely on him and the buttons had long since disappeared into the darkness.
The only thing he still knew that belonged to him were his bright blue eyes that seemed to shine even in the darkest hour of his life. His dirty, bloodied and cracked knuckles had not stopped trembling since his captivity.
If there was such a thing as karma, he knew it had gotten to him. He had been in withdrawal for a time he did not know. The nicotine that was not given to his body caused extra physical and mental pain. His withdrawal continued to torture him when Du'met did not. But his blue eyes remained on his clothes or on the dirty bloody floor. If he had looked up, he would have looked only into his own broken body.
Du'met had given him a room with monitors on which his own torture was shown to him in an endless time loop. Initially he could not take his eyes off the flickering videos. How his own eyes painfully recorded with horror and shock the events of which he hoped it was only a dream.
How he saw himself, his former version full of hope, hope for salvation and his survival. But at the latest after Du'met had revived him for Charlie incomprehensible reasons, he knew that he would not get out of here. Never again would he see the sun rise.
He could not give himself this hope that lay in his eyes. Not after he knew what would await him again. He saw the red siren light up before his steel door opened automatically. ,,Come on, we're waiting," he heard his friends' voice cut together automatically. ,,I know," it came brokenly from his dry throat as he moved forward, swaying slightly. Only when his hands rested on the door frame did he dare to look up.
The hotel he had once admired was spreading out and seemed to be waiting for him. It seemed to be finally waiting for another victim. The blue-eyed man would have liked nothing better than to drag himself back to his cell and crawl into a corner.
But since the door closed automatically behind him, he had no choice but to continue walking forward. His hand and ankle cuffs made a slight ringing sound as a few cracking noises came from his knees moving again.
He would never let me out of his sight he thought bitterly and looked up at a camera his captor had attached. The small red flashing light let him know that the older man was watching him carefully.
When Charlie decided to walk towards the main hall to have more freedom, a moving wall thwarted him. ,,The game begins," he heard the distorted voice of his friends before he started running to get in the said direction. He knew that if he didn't, he'd be able to get his wings out again.
He still felt the hot iron on his back after he refused to play the game, the smell of his own flesh made him gag before he scurried past the wall and it closed behind him. By now it was like a game of cat and mouse for the two of them. Du'met couldn't live without his beloved prey and Charlie began to doubt whether he shouldn't just throw himself at the knife and become the perfect puppet.
But he did not want to give up this last will, he knew that his friends had survived. Were they friends at all, do friends leave other friends in the lurch? He shook his head and another crack was heard. Less thinking more running he knew but it seemed both men knew how far they could go.
A sick game of obsession in which they both tried to break the other before they could break him on their own, either to escape from here or to make him his own beautiful doll.
But by now it was his loud rapid heartbeat and the rush of blood in his ears that Charlie heard, running as fast as he could through the hotel. He knew exactly where the main hall was, but the closer he got to it, the more he knew that Du'met was getting closer to him.
He ran around one of the many corners as his nibbled fingers clung anxiously to the tapestry. ,,N-No, it can't be," came from his brittle, bloody lips as he discovered a wall in front of him. He had gone this way hundreds of times and there had never been a wall. New special game," he heard the automatic voice and his fingers carved hatefully and panic-stricken over the wall. ,,Just stop...please" came from Charlie and he felt his mind weighing his chances.
While one broken part of him wanted nothing more than to die and let go of all the pain, the other part was blessed with a last spark of hope to get out of here. To have the satisfaction of having survived the serial killer. ,,All right, let's play bastard!" he yelled into the hotel before turning around and taking another path.
He was aware that his chances were sunk after Du'met had apparently expanded the hotel, but he would have to try. He ran around a corner again when he suddenly lost his footing. A scream escaped his dry throat before his hands clung to the ground to avoid being impaled by the blood-covered spikes.
,,Come on," he said to himself as he slowly pulled himself up with trembling arms. Swaying upright, he looked down at the spikes to which he had already fallen victim. He felt the tingling sensation on his lower and upper arms where the spikes had pierced. An ugly wound but a simple scar of many.
Just a little more he heard his own inner voice and a cough took hold of him. He coughed and it seemed as if shears were going into his lungs and neck, his fingers carved over his neck but the pain remained. Would a cigarette kill me now he thought and had to laugh powerlessly. But he knew he had no time not to rest. He ran on in the hope of finally getting out of here, at least somehow. And he had exactly a plan how.
He ran down the corridor before taking the back way to the sallon with the zigarete automat. Luckily Du'met did not block his way. On the contrary, the older man seemed interested in what his doll would do. Charlie threw himself against the large double doors, hissing and gasping, before the saloon revealed itself. Briefly his blue eyes darted to the cigarette machine. The image of him when everything seemed fine flashed, but disappeared.
He hurried to the counter and looked in the drawers for something to defend himself with. He needed a weapon and even if Du'met had a knife, he should at least be able to find something else. ,,Yes," he said before pulling the screwdriver out of the drawer and gripping it tremblingly. ,,You hear me, you sicko. I'm going to finish this, I'm not playing anymore" he shouted into the hotel and something like a will to win seized him.
Despite the fact that he still had his hand and ankle cuffs on, he knew exactly where Du'met was. They both knew and yet they always seemed to circle around each other. Moving out of the room and back into the hallway, he ran toward the control room, knowing that his captor was waiting for him there, or so he hoped.
It was only a few more corridors and he would reach the secret door when suddenly all the lights in the hotel seemed to go out. ,,What the hell?" he cursed in confusion and approached the wall to have it in his back for orientation. It was dead silent, his heartbeat and the rush of his blood in his body seemed to make him deaf in this dead silence.
Gripping the screwdriver tighter, he pushed himself along the wall and ventured further. With each step he took, his inner map became more confused and blurred.
The floor was no longer woody, it became harder and stonier, as if he had suddenly changed the entire floor. Where the hell am I ? he asked himself, but only looked into the darkness. There was no point where he could have oriented himself instead he did not even notice how he went into a larger room that he still thought was the hallway.
Only when the heavy metal door closed with a bang did he turn, wincing, in the direction of the sound. ,,No,no, no, no, no," he muttered hastily and was about to move toward the sound when suddenly the lights in the room came on. He stiffened as a cold hand was placed on his neck and tore him with a force that he was simply thundered without resistance against the stony wall.
A cry came over his lips as he felt the warm blood on his nose flow onto his lips and bent his shirt and the floor. His vision was slightly blurred, but he clearly recognized the man in the mask. Wrapping the scissor puller tighter, he aimed directly at the man's chest.
But before Charlie could reach it, Du'met had knocked the gun out of his hand and kicked him in the stomach. Staggering and gasping for air, the blue-eyed man hit the wall and doubled over in pain. Any moment he could swear to throw up as the miserable feeling would not escape him.
But he didn't have time to attack, because when the leather gloves got caught in his hair and thundered him up against the wall again, he saw black spots in front of his eyes. ,,Le-Let me loose" Charlie hissed powerlessly and his arms desperately tried to free themselves from the grip. His voice failed, however, as he cried out again as the cold metal of the knife du'met bored into his shoulder and effortlessly severed the flesh.
He saw the joy in the dark eyes of the serial killer. How it almost put him in an ecstasy to see his doll so. Charlie bit his lip hard as Du'met seemed to pull the knife extra slowly from his shoulder. He felt the warm blood wet his shirt and flow down his body. ,,Let me go!" he yelled desperately at the older man as he realized he was too physically weak to do anything.
But only a slight tilting of the head seemed to be the answer. Before the grip strengthened in his hair and before Charlie could say anything, Du'met had slammed his head against the wall several times before the younger man collapsed unconscious.
So how long had it been since that event? Again only minutes, hours, days, weeks he did not know it all Charlie knew that he heard a ticking. With his head throbbing, he awoke from his unconsciousness and his eyes had to adjust to the now slightly lighted room.
However, he immediately stiffened when he heard the sound of Du'met coming out of the darkness behind him. He suppressed a cry of pain as his head was jerked back as Du'met looked directly at him. Silence lay between them and no one seemed to say anything.
Charlie swallowed nervously, knowing there was no escape from the torture, but something seemed to have changed in the expression in the killer's dark eyes. He seemed full of excitement but why?
With a jerk he released Charlie, who only noticed when he stood up that he was tied to the chair. Pulling and tugging on the leather rims did not get him any further. His blue eyes followed the other with fear as he walked around him and stood in front of him. He looked up at Du'met and Du'met looked silently behind his white mask at Charlie. ,, Pl-Please," came a beaten sound from his lips and his blue eyes showed nothing but exhaustion and brokenness.
Charlie pressed himself against the metal chair as Du'met slowly reached out a hand to him and he feared the worst. Instead, the cold leather gloves slid over his neck almost eager for more. They lingered for a moment on his aorta, squeezing just a fraction. His heart was racing, his blood was rushing and Charlie was afraid to make a sound.
He was afraid to breathe and pull Du'met out of his trance. He swallowed as Du'met went from his neck up to his cheek, the cool leather giving him goosebumps but he dared not flinch. He suppressed a hiss as Du'met ran his hand over the damaged lips. Almost tenderly he stroked the split lip before his fingers slid further.
What made Charlie flinch, however, was Du'met's other hand resting on his knee. It was a strange disgusting even scandalous feeling. ,,N-not " came a quiet tremble over Charlie's lips as the hand on his knee continued to move slowly upward.
But his blue eyes could not break away from the dark behind the mask. Charlie's hands tangled around the metal the closer Du'met came to his affordance. He didn't have to remember how those moments had passed between them.
He could still feel it, every scratch, every bite, every kiss and every thrust as Du'met slammed his head down on the cool metal table to keep him still for a moment. It was a moment that had burned itself into his mind. ,,Stop please" came the next plea as he desperately tried not to relive what he had already experienced.
There was shame on his face as he looked away, hoping the older man would at least make it quick. Before Du'met suddenly let go of him and instead grabbed his white shirt and tore it open. Goosebumps gripped his body and a surprised gasp escaped him. He flinched as Du'met picked up a felt-tip pen and at first worried that it might have been a weapon.
To his alarm, the murderer removed the cap of the pen before applying the cool stylus to Charlie's left pinky and ring finger. He traced the small strokes and with shock the younger slowly became aware of what the older was doing. Panic-stricken, he shook the fetlocks and tried to get free, ,,No, don't," he pleaded, feeling tears forming in his eyes.
Not my body, he thought, knowing that whatever the psychopath had in mind, he could rebuild it as he wished. He was the lamb that had not yet been eaten by the mercy of the wolf. When Du'met was done with his hands, Charlie's panic was not over. Instead, the killer moved up to his face and began to make the macking around Charlie's left eyes.
A tremor had gripped his body as he became aware of what the killer was about to do. Silent tears ran down his cheeks and wetted his chest and shirt. He hardly noticed how Du'met almost lovingly wiped away the tear and pulled his slightly damp leather gloves over Charlie's bloody lips. Only when Du'met moved away from Charlie to get the things he needed for his next step did it escape Charlie's lips.
A laugh, a loud throaty laugh that mingled with his crying and whimpering. Mad. ,,This is all a bad joke," he laughed, torn between insanity and the sheer panic that would overcome him. Through his seizure he hardly saw Du'met coming towards him, holding a box of cigarettes in his hand.
Only when a knife bored into his thigh and was twisted around as well as a fist hit him so hard in the face that his nose began to bleed again, Charlie became silent.
Distraught, he looked up at the older man, who didn't seem to like the way his victim was reacting. Wordlessly he took out a cigarette and held it in front of Charlie's bloody lips. ,,A-A joke?" Charlie hissed as the pain of the knife became unbearable. Instead he saw Du'met reach into his pocket and light his lighter.
A jolt went through his arms as they instinctively tried to grab the cigarette, but couldn't. ,,Give it to me," he said and tried to reach the cigarette, but Du'met pulled it away. What else does he want? Charlie asked himself, looking up at the masked man, slightly confused.
Du'met was about to turn around and leave with the cigarettes when a pitiful pleading, ,,No, please - please Sir - please give me a cigarette" came from Charlie's lips. Shame's redness spread to his cheeks and ears as he looked pathetically pleading to Du'met with tears in his eyes.
He thought that for a fraction the corners of the older man's mouth moved upward. Du'met lit the cigarette and held it in front of Charlie's lips, who accepted it. The younger man felt his body relax automatically and absorb the nicotine almost with girth. Since he had closed his eyes, he did not see how Du'met had disappeared behind him.
Only when he felt something hot burning against his chest he cried out and dropped the cigarette to the floor. But before he realized what it was, the pain came again and again. Again and again, the older man burned him with the fire and the cigarettes until the room was permeated with a disgusting stench of burnt flesh. ,,Stop it!" he shouted when the burning became unbearable. But Du'met didn't even seem to think about it.
The lighter was held under his fingers and Charlie desperately tried to escape. But it was useless how long Du'met was maquetting and engraving his doll he didn't know but at the latest when the lighter had no more gas or the broken screams became too boring for him he stopped. Charlie hung his head powerlessly, the tears had dried in the meantime and the knife which was still stuck in his thigh seemed almost insignificant.
When the shrill sound of the circular saw reached his ears, his head jerked up. ,,Oh no, please don't no, sir, please!" he screamed louder and louder as he became aware of what was about to happen.
But the masked man seemed to still hear him or to finally want to create his perfect puppet. He gently placed a cool hand covered by the leather gloves on Charlie's cheek.
Whether it was an impulse or instinct or his desire to survive, Charlie didn't know. But he leaned against the hand and with a final silent plea and a pull away of the glove, the cool shrill metal cut through the two fingers.
This was one of those moments when everything seemed to cease to exist. He was hardly aware of the pain in his dazed stupor, and the feeling of the missing fingers was negligible.
Instead, his blue eyes focused on the cigarette lying at his feet. How the embers pulled at the stem how the smoke slowly rose and how he and the fire went out in a last blink a last breath. His body sank into unconsciousness something that brought him the relieving darkness.
But for how long? How long would it take for him to wake up and see the horror Du'met had left behind. Again Charlie did not know how much time had passed after Du'met had tortured him. What he did know vaguely was how he was in his room and slowly coming to. How he wanted to scream because of the pain that ran through his body but could not.
How he stood up and immediately collapsed again as his legs gave way. What had happened? And what were those noises from everywhere that seemed to take over the whole hotel.
Trying to get up again, he swayed from left to right and only then did he realize. It should have been clear to him since he woke up. The vision in his left eye was gone, only shadows and distortions flitted across his vision. Panic seized him and he hastily looked for something to look at.
He lifted himself up to one of the monitors and with a last panic-stricken breath he finally looked up. A scream immediately crossed his lips, a scream that made him go numb. It echoed off the walls and seemed to go through the whole house.
His pretty beautiful bright left blue eye was torn away and destroyed. Instead, the dark brown almost black looking eye which looked exactly like Du'met at this point. Stunned he stepped closer to the TV and saw how in this blackness Du'met was apparently still staring at him in death looking at his masterpiece or wherever the killer was.
It was disgusting and hate and disgust rose in him. Du'met had made him his. But when his black eye looked at his complete reflection, he cried out again and held his left hand in front of his face. His fleshy human fingers were gone. The sound of the circular saw in his ears made him tremble. Instead of fingers, the serial killer had made them out of metal. With effort and tears mixed with his incomprehensible words, he tried to move his fingers.
But with every little movement, the metal seemed to eat further into his flesh. The next thing he knew, his door flew open and armed police rushed in, pointing their weapons at him. ,,Damn, that's him. Sir, we have a survivor," said one of the men before they escorted the broken man out. But even this way he had hoped for so long seemed like a dream. Only when he felt the sun on his battered skin did he know it was not. He was free, free and no longer a prisoner.
These events were now two weeks ago, he knew that because of his calendar. Having a sense of time was something that brought him back to reality. Two weeks after he was rescued from Du'met's clutches, and with each tick of the clock in his apartment, he became more nervous and restless. They wanted to be there long ago, he cursed inwardly and paced back and forth.
He didn't know why he had called his former team to him. It was an impulse when he picked up the phone. His head jerked to the door when it rang. Hastily he went to the door and opened it before retreating back to his apartment. Something was wrong, there was no greeting or hug. They walked in silently and as Charlie leaned against his desk he saw what was going on.
They all looked at him with a smile. No, that wasn't right, he shook his head and covered his bruised eye with his hand. ,,Charlie?" came cautiously from Erin, who took a step closer.
What's wrong with me? his thoughts raced, something was wrong, what was right. ,,You're alive," Jamie stated and had an uncertain look in her eyes. ,,I wouldn't call it living, not after that," came from Charlie, who took off his left hand glove and removed his hand from his eye. Startled noises came from the four people and they took a step back. ,,Charlie, what happened?" asked Kate, who was the first to recover her voice.
As Charlie looked to the redhead, a shadow flashed across his field of vision. Someone he knew only too well seemed to be with him, guarding him. ,,You left me behind!" he suddenly shouted, holding his aching hand as he jerked his head away from the cold leather on his cheek. ,,I thought you were dead," Mark said, trying to calm the eldest.
As a result, Charlie retreated behind the desk and put his healthy hand to the drawer. ,,Charlie, we saw blood and-" Kate was interrupted by a shaky laugh. ,,Blood, yes, yes, that's good. You were looking for everyone else but me. Stop it!" he said and his left hand jerked away as he clearly saw Du'met with the circular saw in his left eye. ,,But we didn't do anything?" came a confused Jamie, who stood next to Erin and put a reassuring hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. His uneven eyes looked at Jamie. ,,Nothing done? Nothing done then yes? You did this to me, you let him break me!" he screamed and his hand had found the button for the automatic door lock.
The sound of the door closing was drowned out when Kate intervened. ,,Enough! Damn it Charlie I'm sorry okay we thought you were dead and we didn't want to leave you behind it happened. But believe us it was not our intention " she said and Mark nodded in agreement.
He hurriedly looked back and forth between the four youngsters before he saw Du'met in the corner of his room. ,,Go away," he muttered and his eyes went to his new hand. ,,Do you need some medicine or help?" Erin dared to try again, clearly upset.
A laugh came from his lips and the others seemed to flinch. ,,Oh, Erin, you want to help me? You are the one who tied me to this fence. It's all your fault you made me do it!" he spat and saw how hard it hit the younger one. ,,That's enough Charlie!" Jamie intervened and seemed to want to go with Erin. He felt Du'met behind him rather than his cool leather gloves resting on his shoulders and seeming to possess him.
The devil in me he thought and the grin on his lips widened. The pain in his dark eye increased and the surroundings on the left seemed to blur more and more. There was something in him that wanted to be satisfied. ,,Don't go, please, I'm just starting my new movie," he purred, his right hand reaching for the sharp, pointed letter opener. ,,What?" came a confused Kate, who also stepped back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
,,You know, something good came out of it...my brokenness. I can finally see it," he began, hiding the letter opener behind his back. ,,See what?" Erin dared to ask, clinging to Jamie. ,,My victims," he said before launching himself at his former friends. It was pure satisfaction as the blade dug into Erin's neck. How simple it was and so efficient.
With each cut, each thrust and each scream, his vision seemed to turn more and more red. A pool of blood gathered in the room before the four people lay dead on the floor. ,,You were right, you made me better," he said and his gaze went to the mirror. But instead of himself he saw Du'met standing there, the white mask on his face and the bloody knife in his hand.
A giggle came over his lips, a joke that was all a big joke that he found all too amusing. But he knew that he could create something even greater than Du'met. He could live on through the killer and create his masterpiece, the film he always wanted to make.
The glory that had always been his would be his. And with the death of his friends it would begin. He grabbed his camera, turned it on and let his game begin. The devil had taken possession of him, broken him and built him up again. He had made him complete.
28 notes · View notes
lacteawhy · 1 year
Note
https://at.tumblr.com/emeraldkyber/the-curator-in-a-corset-the-curator-in-a-corset/ril9hekc1271
Idk... The idea popped up in my feed and now I wonder, would The Boys™ wear a corset? Would they slay or complain about not being able to breathe?
-a corset lover (and wearer)
ALRIGHT ALRIGHT
How do I put this...we got two heavy smokers, an army man with a beer belly(maybe it's the equipment or his posture but I'd like to think it's a beer belly.), a man is his early 40s who grabs his sides after taking two steps too fast and uhmmm..others should fit, actually.
I am 100% certain Curie would put it on.
Hector would not be a fan, he'd give you a "are you serious" look. Would put it on to have a smile on your face tho! But you are next to have it in you!
Travis would be so fucking embarrassed, WHY CAN'T YOU BE NORMAL FOR A MOMENT? ALWAYS WITH SOME WEIRD FUCKING KINKS. Yeah he'll look great.
16 notes · View notes
bladetoblade · 1 year
Text
tagged by @anakincito (thanks for tagging me <333)
3 ships: obikin, wangxian, merthur (this is so hard i ship a lot)
1st ever ship: this is hard, i think obikin was the first i read fanfic for, tenrose (?) was the first i engaged with (wow that was 10+ years ago), and in general as a child i liked wolfstar first (ofc we have left hp behind)
Last song: There! Right There! from the legally blonde musical (WHICH I HIGHLY RECOMMEND OVER THE MOVIE)
Last movie: technically a muppet's christmas carol (but it was just on in the background while i was studying), the last movie i watched watched was black panther: wakanda forever (i'm still recovering :,))
Currently reading: parable of the sower by octavia butler (for class) and a SLOW reread of the rots novelization
Currently watching: i'm about to watch the sandman! a whole year late, i'm also trying to catch up with FIFA (missed the round of 8 and 4 bc of grading and exams 😭)
Currently consuming: not really anything ngl, i'm a bit overwhelmed with school, grad applications, and work BUT i'm diving back into star wars and merlin (bc tis the season), probably sandman when i actually have time
Currently craving: i want maggie noodles so bad rn!
tagging @stellasapphire, @emeraldkyber, @bladling, and anyone else that sees it! i've been tumblr absent so i'd love to interact!
9 notes · View notes
quigonpositivity · 11 months
Text
UH OH I WAS TAGGED IN SOMETHING AND FORGOT ALL ABOUT IT SORRY @surfing-on-a-soundwave ! Okay, this is one of those this or that things. Here we go!
slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle-aged romance (I CANT PICK 😭) // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or gender bend (I don’t like either) // angst or CRACK!!! // apocalyptic or mundane
BRING BACK CRACK FANFICTION ITS A LOST ART I LOVE IT SO MUCH
I’m tagging @degenderates and @emeraldkyber
2 notes · View notes
bingusbongbogus · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Yes what is that orange part that showed up in Gabriel's post?
Well that's just his "good friend" Markus Skelvig!
The very silly goober created by my good friend @emeraldkyber for our little Faith spin-off/au called Faith: The Rapture! Along with Francis, Gabriel, and several more characters on the way!
29 notes · View notes
Text
Blood red drops of art
Tumblr media
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Warning !!! : This One-Shot it’s a dark one, so if you can’t handle it or can’t read it, you shouldn’t read it. I warned you when you read it, it’s not my problem (my understanding of too much dark brutal topics can and is probably a completely different understanding than you dear readers have, maybe not, but it’s still not one of my darkest stories) The warning was given to you, minors don't interact
Fandom : The dark pictures , The devil in me
Tags : blood , knive , injuries , kissing , no healthy relationship ( in real life ) , obsession
Charlie Lonnit x Du'met
Info : @emeraldkyber and @somewhereinthepines the first one hat the idea and the second one allowed me to make this One-Shot. I hope you both like it and it's a little bit how you imagine it ; )
masterlist
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
How did it come to this that his life had turned so. Was it his childhood, his young adult years, or his adulthood. Was it his preference for the perfect art, for the fame, the money or something else entirely?
When had an innocent hobby become a company and broken before something completely new had formed from the shards of his life. When had it come so far that he played his relationship to get what he needed. When did it come when he saw blood for the first time?
Charlie knew it very well it was at night the moon was then still the seemingly only witness to the act of his still then unknown heart. His way led him through a few nondescript dark streets of the city of Chigaco and the winter with its merciless snow did not make it easier.
The white solid mass crunched and slid easily under his brown leather boots as he pulled the bag with his camera closer to his body. Both for protection and because of the nightly cold.
He was about to turn into an alley when he heard something. It was not snow, or sieren also no animal which howled it was something else. Something that awakened his interest but also his fear in him. It was painful, puny pleading sounds of a human being. He looked ahead into the alley and his blue eyes saw what opened something like eyes in him. It was true art.
A younger man lay helplessly on his back, his arms stretched upward in supplication, as transparent tears flowed from his eyes, seemingly like tiny crystals in the moonlight.
His clothes were torn and it was clear that he had gotten into a fight. The blue intrigued but slightly frightened eyes continued to look. The moon illuminated the victim in a light in which it could not have been more appropriate.
The tears that rolled like crystals from the cheeks, the bitter pleading in the eyes, the pleading looked up. Who carried the hope to stop and desperately hoped that their tormentor would give in.
The tattered and torn clothes that exposed the skin, which in turn was from the jewelry, the last brush stroke of art that made the picture in front of him a masterpiece that opened the eyes of an artist. He saw it now everything about the picture what it evoked in him was perfect.
But then he flinched when he saw a shadow coming out of the shadow of the alley. A man with a white mask covering his face. Blood dripped from it and from his hands as if he had cried bloody tears and caught them with his hands. His glasses reflected the image when he saw the silver knife of the attacker separated by blood. How the black handle disappeared in the leather gloves that closed tightly around the handle.
How the leather clung to his hands and fit them perfectly. His clothes were covered with blood splatters and he even thought he could see a few scraps of clothing in his pocket. A souvenir it went through his head as he continued to watch the stranger. The man with the mask and the hat stood in front of the work of art and looked at him almost as if he was actually listening and waiting.
Charlie's eyes showed fear not for life but for his work of art. He saw the masked man raise the knife and sink it into the body of the pleading man. ,,Don't !" he shouted and stepped into the alley, his hand already on his pocket, clutching the camera. What am I doing here? came the silent question in his head.
The masked man seemed to be confused and he looked at his victim one last time before turning to Charlie with the bloody knife. ,,Pl-Please help - help m-me!" came the pleading voice of the unknown victim who was dragging himself to him on the snow-white floor.
His wounds dyed the snow deep red and hatred surfaced in the blue-eyed man. ,,You broke it!" he suddenly shouted at the man lying on the ground, his blue eyes showing incredible disgust and hatred. He seemed to completely ignore the masked man and walked further towards the injured man.
Shyness was in his facial features as he looked down on the bleeding man. ,,You have destroyed my work of art," he said so coldly that the injured man flinched. ,,W-What?" came a confused and weak voice from the blood-red lips of the lower man. Charlie felt a hand digging into his hair and pulling him around.
His eyes looked directly into the dark slits for the eyes of the attacker. He felt the unknown pressing the cold metal against his neck as the sharpness threatened to cut his skin every second and bleed him out like a pig. ,,An artist" came over Charlie's lips when he saw the same fascinated and yet uncertain look behind the camera.
He is trying and studying, it lit up in his mind and his blue eyes seemed to glow with brokenness. The knife and the man's grip became harder and more painful, but it hardly bothered the younger man. Everything in him was interested in the masked man.
His heartbeat was racing and his own blood rushing in his ears made him almost deaf, so absorbed was he by the unknown. ,,Kill him" came the two words over his lips to the unknown and the hat wearer tilted his head. ,,Bring the work of art to completion" came almost like a whisper from his lips before he lifted the camera slightly. ,,You create and I'll finish it" came the suggestion and a grin a grin that showed his anticipation was visible.
Wordlessly, the hat wearer let go of him in a mix of carelessness and yet caution before his hands were on the collar of the unknown man's shirt before lifting him up and thundering him against the wall. A whimpering sound came from the victim and it seemed to satisfy the hat wearer, at least it looked that way to Charlie as he saw the grip on the knife tighten.
Charlie took the camera in his hand and he was shaking almost as excited as he was looking through the lens at the work of art as it was. He saw exactly how the knife, after the last loud cry and plea, dug itself into the throat of the victim.
The blade disappeared into the soft flesh he could see the realization of the victim. How the hands went from the hand cycles to the neck and helplessly tried to get the blood back into his body. Not to end up dead in an alley without a name. The fear that radiated from the eyes, the tears that flowed and the silent gurgles and desperate attempts to speak that were replaced by gurgles and gasps as the blood flowed over his lips.
It covered the hands of the killer's clothes and dyed the snow a beautiful dark blood red. Before the knife was taken out before he rammed it mercilessly and yet with a plan in the torso and watchg as the life gave way. ,, A masterpiece," Charlie whispered as he took it all in and finally found the meaning in its aesthetics that he had always needed and sought. The blood of the work of art directly on the canvas.
That was the moment when their relationship of give and take and blood and masterwork began. A pleased look was in the bright blue eyes as the smoke from his cigarette passed over his lips. It had been years since this incident and over the years the two artists and partners had to realize that with every work of art and every film the desire for more grew.
And with the help of a few acquaintances so Charlie knew all were not completely clean, he had planned but especially his Du'met to offer a completely new teretorium. A murder house.
Something he had dreamed of since his childhood and his beginnings with his work. It was a way to redesign everything new traps, rooms but also new opportunities for the artwork to unfold as well as to unfold itself and absorb everything at a certain angle.
Throwing his cigarette carelessly to the ground and stepping out with his shoe he felt his partner behind him. ,,I hope you like it my heart" he purred and his blue eyes showed nothing but the madness of an artist as he gripped his camera tighter. He got no answer, instead he felt the rough hand that had already killed so many people on his shoulder as it slowly and coldly went over his neck to his cheek. A short gentle caress followed by an intimate but short kiss.
++++++++++++++++++++++
A small sign of affection but this was rarely of concern. If they came closer physically they both knew it would take more preparation not only in sacrifices but also in tools, more than one would bleed they both knew only too well.
No, Charlie gave an indulgent sigh before letting Du'met go ahead and approaching the replica of H.H. Holmes' famous hotel. ,,Hurry up, it seems that the new paintings are here!" he called out to him as he looked behind him and had a good view of the island. His blue eyes fixed on a car coming straight to the opening of the new exclusive place. ,,Masterpieces nothing but masterpieces will come out of it my heart" he exclaimed and knew that his partner had heard him.
Anticipation rose in him as he made his way towards the house before entering the special rooms for himself and his friend. Everything on screens with infinite cameras. ,,Let the game begin" he exclaimed and saw Du'met looking at him one last time behind the mask before disappearing into one of the doors. Both knew that art so beautiful had to be seen by the world.
23 notes · View notes
bladetoblade · 1 year
Text
tagged by @anakincito! thank you for tagging me <333
5 songs on repeat (this week)
go your own way (cover by lissie)
vienna by billy joel
coconut mall from mario cart 💀💀💀
now listening to my friend's mom's arijit singh playlist! (channa mereya is the arijit singh song i listen to the most probably?)
last movie i watched
slumdog millionare and scooby-doo! abracadabra doo (both in one day, which gave me Emotional Whiplash)
currently watching
taskmaster (which is hilarious, 10/10 would recommend), atla (season 3), and leverage
currently reading
circe (finally!) and the decagon house murders
tagging: @emeraldkyber and anyone else who sees this and hasn't done it!
4 notes · View notes