#he would be terrified

[inhaleaaaaaaaa]

Uh BG3 act 3 and Dark urge spoilers btw just gonna get that outta the way

Okay so, you know how either Yenna, Laezel, or Gale can get kidnapped by Orin? My bitchass was like ‘Fine, I’ll save them, I was going to kill Gortash for Karlach anyway.’ But I didn’t really care all too much (I cut Gale’s hand off in my first Durge and never rlly used Laezel) and I didn’t even know you COULD pick up Yenna. (Tbh after I killed Orin I just left Laezel on the fucking slab cause I was like ‘well, that’s done’ before I checked the quest line again and didn’t notice her at camp.

But my little brain, my little angst emo traitor brain went: ‘What if she took Astarion?’ (Or other LI). Then that bitch would have me under her control within 1 second.

Orin: I have your boyfriend

Durge: Okay fuck- don’t hurt him what do you want? Do you want money? My soul? My life?

Orin: I want Gortash dead

Durge: One dead Gortash coming right up your majesty your royal highness your grace

Imagine how bad it would be for Astarion too. Nabbed from camp, don’t know if Cazador is getting him. Has to deal with being tied to a slab in the temple of Bhaal not knowing if somebody is coming for him. Probably starving somewhat, the smell of blood all around him in the cavern.

I wouldn’t put it past Orin to taught him too. Be like : ‘Maybe I should just keep you, it has my wretched bloodkin at my command. All I had to do is threaten to leave a scratch on your pretty neck, and they immediately went to do whatever I asked of them.’

I would be 100% more motivated to kill Gortash if it was Astarion on that slab. The trauma it would bring back too. Astarion is threatened? Steel Watch and Gortash gone by dusk. My Durge would be even more protective of my beautiful boy afterward, always keeping an eye over by him.

Gods, I wanna make a fic but I already have two that are incomplete and haven’t been updated in like 6 months and 2 more fics I wanna write. UGGGFHHH. I might do it anyway.

[bunnieswithknives]

Thinking about his brain

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

attempt to return to normalcy

[ceruark]

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL.

synopsis: yan! hsr men as slasher movie killers… and “love interests.” [blade, boothill, aventurine, sunday] words: 3.1k cw: yandere themes: obsession, stalking. slasher elements, gore. a/n: happy friday the 13th to all who celebrate

BLADE is already pretty much like Michael Myers from Halloween: large man, terrifying presence, unfathomable kill count, and cannot die. No matter what you do, no matter how many times you or the other survivors find a way to kill him, he keeps coming back, and with renewed vengeance every time.

The first time you’d been subjected to his knife was at a summer camp. Having gone there every summer for years growing up, you grew attached to the place and decided to pick up a role as a counselor in the summers following your high school graduation, and they passed peacefully. However, in the few months leading up to your college graduation, misfortune befell the small town where the camp was located. Someone’s grave had been dug up, and just weeks after that, people started turning up dead, their bodies littered with so many stab wounds that some were unrecognizable.

Given the ongoing investigation, the counselors and other camp staff requested that the summer camp not reopen, but the owners and even some parents insisted they stay open, and so despite your better judgment, you returned. You needed the money, and you knew how to defend yourself— if anything happened, you could keep yourself and your kids safe.

At least, that’s what you believed. When the man appears in the doorway of your cabin, his stocky figure silhouetted by the moonlight and leaving two red eyes gleaming down at you, you know there’s not a chance in hell you’re making it out of there alive.

You’d thrown yourself at him, yelling for your kids to escape through the back. He’s been merciless, sinking his knife into your flesh over and over again, but you persevered and fought back until you were sure every single one of your kids had made it a good distance away from the cabin. At some point you’d collapsed, from exhaustion and blood loss.

The doctors said it was a miracle you survived. They had your house guarded since he hadn’t been detained, but once word of his death by police gunfire got around, things calmed down significantly. You relaxed over the years, letting your guard down and believing that things could return to normal. Serial killings all over the nation popped up, but you worried not—after all, the killer you were concerned with was dead.

One of the survivors reached out to you five years after that fateful night, wishing to get together with the others who lived to get drinks and properly move on from everything. It was, of course, a set up; Blade had returned, and the man who invited you believed he’d be spared if he got the rest of the survivors together in one place.

He’d been the first one murdered that night. 

Once again, you narrowly dodged death, just barely managing to get yourself to a hospital before you received one stab wound too many. Time goes on, and no matter how many times they put a bullet through his head, he manages to come back. The list of survivors has grown, but the list of victims is now countless.

You’re in your thirties when the police reach out to the adult survivors. There’s a new survivor: a five year-old girl by the name of Yunli. Her parents had been ruthlessly slaughtered, but he hadn’t touched even a single hair on the young girl’s hair. She didn’t have any living family, and so, you agreed to take her in. 

Life is easier with Yunli in it. A bright, spunky little thing, she brings joy to your days and some semblance of a family that you’ve been too scared to seek out. It’s nice to have the sound of laughter filling your home.

That same laughter has you smiling tonight, the girl’s giggling floating down the hallway and into the kitchen, where you’re washing dishes. A quick glance at the microwave’s clock tells you it’s close to her bedtime, and she’s far more energetic than she typically would be at this time. You wipe your hands off on a dish towel and walk down the hall toward her room, wishing to find out what’s working her up at this hour and wanting to tell her to wind down before bed.

You knock lightly before turning the knob. You get the door open a crack before the sight on the other side of it leaves you frozen, horrified.

He’s in Yunli’s room, kneeling before her as she shows him the many dolls you’ve bought her. His knife is on the floor beside him, and the eyes that have haunted your dreams for years pierce into you, pinning you where you stand.

The girl seems… happier with you, than she had been with her parents. Perhaps he’ll have to be kinder to you this time.

BOOTHILL gives me Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibes in terms of how he kills and the brutality of it all, but not personality-wise. No, I actually think he’d be quite personable with that southern charm of his— so of course, no one would ever expect him to do anything unspeakable.

You and your friends are on a road trip when the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing but fields of crops as far as the eye can see, and the only sign of civilization is a barn, some stables, and a few coops with two houses near them about a mile away from where you’re standing.

You all make the trek, hoping to be able to get some help from the people living there. Worst case scenario, if it’s all been abandoned, you can squat there and look for tools to help you fix the car. But to your surprise, when you knock, a kind-looking man with wild white and black hair opens the door, and after hearing about your situation, is more than happy to be of assistance.

He tows the car onto his property and takes a look at it, determining that the entire engine needs to be replaced. Given his distance from the nearest auto shop, he says he’ll leave for town Sunday afternoon and get the part on Monday morning. It’s going to be an all-day trip, so he likely won’t be back until early Tuesday morning.

You’ve got a couple days to get to know him, in the meantime. Your friends absolutely adore him, pointing out how good of a guy he is, some even pointing out how attractive he is. You scoff one night as he’s making dinner away from where you’re all sitting, as one of your friends starts a bet on if any of you will be able to sleep with him before all of this is over.

Sunday afternoon comes all too soon, though, and none of you get very far with him before he’s heading off in his truck toward the nearest town. You’re a bit shocked that he would so willingly leave a group of strangers in his house unattended, but you chalk it up to his kindness that seems to be boundless.

You should have been far more concerned.

You’re all woken up that night by the sound of a chainsaw revving, shortly followed by one of your friend’s horrible shrieking. The room devolves into panic and chaos as you watch her get torn to shreds by the very man who invited you into his home, now donning a mask of what you hope is animal skin.

You all flee in different directions, but he knows the property better than you do, and sure enough, your friends are picked off one by one until you’re the last one standing. You narrowly dodge some of the traps he’s set up and take refuge in the stables, struggling to keep yourself together as you hear your friend’s cries in the distance. 

While looking for something to defend yourself with, you find a box hidden in a pile of hay. It’s locked, but you force it open, dumping its contents on the floor. A pistol, a few handwritten letters, and pictures of a woman and a young girl. You place the pistol beside you before your curiosity takes over, causing you to slowly go through and study the pictures.

In your distracted state, you failed to notice that he’d gotten into the stables. You jump to your feet when the chainsaw revs just a few feet in front of you. You turn off the safety and raise the gun, your hand steady and your shot clear.

He’s lost so much in his life, and it’s driven him to madness. And you, you remind him of something— someone precious who he lost to illness, to the cruelty of life.

He can’t lose you again. He won’t allow you to leave.

And that’s not something you’ll realize until he’s staring at you from the barrel of a gun you believe is loaded, laughing for a reason you can’t understand.

AVENTURINE stepped right out of a Scream movie. He’s a classic Ghostface-type killer, phone calls and everything. He’s certainly got the charisma needed to make the intimidating phone calls, and I feel like he would enjoy stalking and toying around with his prey a bit before going in for the kill. 

You could probably argue that he’s not the type to want to make things messy, but I feel like in this case, he would be using this as an outlet, meaning all his kills are brutal and gory. (Creative, at times, too. The police will give him that.) There’s just something so comforting about being covered in blood, the warm liquid almost serving as a warm embrace.

For him, there aren’t any better targets than his close friend group. He knows all their darkest secrets, and has no problem using his knowledge to torment them and easily back them into a corner, too panicked to see him coming until it’s too late. These people have always been fake, anyway, and he knows they’ve always looked down on him. Can you really blame him for taking out the trash?

And then, of course, there’s you. You’re not a saint by any means— no, you’ve got your fair share of skeletons in the closet, and each secret you divulge to him because of the trust you foolishly placed in him is sweeter than any death he could imagine giving you. Maybe that’s what draws him to you so much; where everyone else wears a mask, there’s something about you that’s genuine, and it’s a side of you that you’ve entrusted to only him.

So when the killer finally shows up on your doorstep, he’s the one you turn to. As you’re on the phone with the killer, responding to his taunts in an attempt to figure out where exactly he is in your house, you’re texting Aventurine on the side and sending him what you believe is your last goodbye. 

“Do you want to be forgiven?” The disguised voice on the other line croons into your ear. “Do you think you should be?”

You’ve just pressed send on your message when a hand seizes you by the back of the neck and throws you to the ground. The impact of hitting the hardwood floor distracts you from the sound of a phone buzzing nearby. You scramble backward, attempting to get to your feet as you do, but the masked man grabs onto your foot and sinks his knife into your calf, ripping a pained screech from your throat.

He drags you back toward him before settling on top of you, his legs straddling your waist rather suggestively. He sinks his blade into you and drags it across your skin slowly, the scorching pain leaving you writhing and crying out in pain.

He flees once he hears sirens in the distance. The police find you on the floor of your living room with four stab wounds and multiple cuts. Aventurine shows up not long after them, disheveled and worried and flashing the police the text you sent him. They allow him to ride in the ambulance with you, admiring his intent to endanger himself if it meant saving you.

You’re so frazzled that you don’t even notice he showed up at your house way sooner than he should’ve, as though he was already nearby. You just blindly turn to him for comfort, clutching onto him for dear life. It’s cute.

He runs his hands through your hair soothingly, shushing you and gently rubbing your back as you sob into his shoulder. You shouldn’t worry so much, dear. He’s here now, and he’ll make sure no one else lays a finger on you ever again.

You don’t realize your grave mistake until you’re standing in Jade’s basement, her brutalized body at your feet and a metal pipe in your hands. You can defend yourself all you like, but it’s far too easy for the masked killer to evade your swings and land his blade in your shoulder, your stomach, your thigh. All places that won’t kill you, of course.

When you finally collapse to your knees, sobbing hysterically and succumbing to your fate, the killer unexpectedly drops to his knees beside you. He wraps his arms around you and presses his chest to your back, trapping you in his hold. You shudder as he runs his blade along your face and neck, smearing your own blood across your soft skin.

“It’s okay,” he coos, and the familiar voice makes you freeze. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The mocking laughter that follows makes your heart drop, and the rest of your hope vanishes.

SUNDAY is definitely involved in some Children of the Corn type of shit. Some supernatural slasher stuff where there’s a cult behind everything, and he’s at the head of it all.

Ena is not a kind god. Countless generations of Oaks have tried various methods of worship and offerings, but none work quite as well as the human sacrifice. This is something Mr. Wood had taught him from a very young age, explaining to Sunday their history as he methodically cut up whichever poor soul had wandered into their humble, hidden town that week.

As head of the Family, he’s exemplary. No one has ever wielded a blade quite like he has, his hand always steady and unflinching. His blessed hands bring prosperity to the land that has never been seen before, Ena’s favor raining down on him and his people. He is as revered as their god at this point, and there is nothing his people would not do for him.

The road trip you make every year to your parent’s house for Thanksgiving was a long one, and a sudden downpour along the way has you rolling to a stop in the nearest town. You plan to just take shelter at a restaurant and grab a bite to eat while you’re there, then fill up on gas and be on your merry way once everything clears up. 

Everyone is so kind, though. The locals in the restaurant make conversation with you, asking about your life and cooing at you once you explain that you’re on your way to visit your family. You spend most of your time talking to the people at the table next to you, a man and his sister, and you get so lost in conversation that you haven’t even realized night has fallen. You pay your bill and are ready to head out when the man stops you.

“You should stay the night at one of the inns,” he advises, a delicate hand placed on your shoulder. “There are still storm clouds, and it could start pouring again at any moment. It would be unfortunate to have to travel through that, especially at night.”

You check the forecast, and to your dismay, he’s right. With his help, you check into a hotel across the street, and you thank him for his assistance before you turn in for the night.

Your peaceful sleep is soon disrupted by a rag being held over your mouth and nose, startling you awake. At this point, you’ve already breathed in the chloroform, and you barely have time to register the formless figures around your bed dressed in shades of white and navy blue before you pass out.

You wake up in an underground cellar, stone walls encasing you in cold nothingness. There are four other people in the room with you, also bound and gagged and staring back at you with wide-eyed terror. There are screams of pain echoing down the stairs from somewhere above you all, the sound of synchronized chanting doing little to mask it.

It’s not difficult to guess what fate awaits you.

Young children dressed in extremely formal clothing bring you all food and water. They’re sweet to you all, terribly so. You’re not sure how long you’re down there, but the time you have left is counted down with each person that is taken out of the room. There are new people brought into the cellar, but once the original four you were with are gone, you know your time has come.

The next time the shapeless people in robes descend the steps, they reach for you. You’re injected with some kind of sedative before you even have the chance to lash out at them, and the blindfold they place over your eyes seems pointless, since you black out, anyways.

When you wake, your arms and legs are bound to some kind of marble slab that you’ve been laid on. You’ve been stripped, and your skin is covered in some kind of oil. It’s cold, and the vulnerability of being exposed just makes your situation all the worse.

Your breath hitches and your pitiful, muffled cries for help stop when you feel something sharp prick your skin. Sunday lightly applies pressure to the knife in his hand, carving beautiful patterns along the surface of your skin. With his free hand, he traces a gloved finger over the beads of blood the blade leaves behind, his touch so devout it’s downright sinful. The sight of you brings him pause, the knife stopping all too suddenly.

It is the first time he has hesitated during a ritual.

Perhaps… you’re not meant to be sacrificed. No, surely something as divine as you is meant for much more than that. Perhaps Ena has lured you here just for him, a reward for his unwavering faith, steady leadership, and all he has done for their people.

“As the highest among us,” Mr. Wood had said the day he named Sunday the new head of the Family, “you have first pick at reaping Ena’s blessings.”

Ena is not a kind god. But perhaps, just this once, they would allow him to be selfish.

[op81s]

nothing will ever be as iconic as sam calling laura 'little elf girl' and travis immediately wanting to evacuate the building.

[kamwashere]

whoever runs the verified batman account in instagram needs their ass ate cause these are hilarious

[turtleblogatlast]

Imagine little Leo having trouble sleeping so he ends up watching tv and movies with Splinter to pass the time. Splinter often just passes out in his chair, but Leo likes the company anyway.

One day, Leo’s rifling through the movies his dad brought back for them (usually 70s and 80s stuff - Splinter has a bias) and he gasps.

Leo runs over to Splinter and holds up a copy of The Last Unicorn, begging that they watch it that night.

Splinter remembers absolutely nothing about the movie, but hey it’s got a unicorn and it’s animated so it’s gotta be fine, right? So he turns the movie on and passes out near immediately.

He’s woken up roughly an hour and a half later by Leo climbing up onto his chair and sobbing hysterically into his chest.

The movie is now one of Leo’s favorites.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Humans are weird but Danny phantom

So Danny has been in the ghost zone for centuries ruling over all the infinet realms like the good king he is

But something happened in the DC universe that called his attention, he went in, fixed the problem and left

Well a few months later the JL summoned him trying to get an alliance with him and he accepts so now he comes to the JL meetings and just hangs out in the watchtower

But he's been ghost king so long that he forgets human customs so now there are so many moments where he just goes "hmmm humans are weird"

He and plastic man got into a stretching contest and he was confused when the other leaguers asked them to stop

He once walked into a meeting eating some rock candy and everyone freaked out, he's still confused

Wonder Woman tried the lasso of truth on him and was shocked when it had no effect

He and Dr Fate once got into a screaming match over something and everyone looked at him like a god for 2 months

He once got so annoyed with Superman that he overshadowed him and put him to sleep, he dosen't get why that's a big deal

He brings the weirdest snacks to JL meetings, flash once asked for some and he had to check if it was safe, they didn't like that

He just reaches through things, people, walls, force fields whatever; if he wants something he will get it

When he's tired he just becomes a disembodied star floating around the watchtower; people set up a bedroom for him so they don't have to see it again

On robins request he brings extinct animals to the watchtower

[scumvillainess]

time travel au where a post-pidw shen qingqiu somehow travels back in time (either through death, the magic that still remains in yqy’s sword, etc.) to when he was the head disciple of qing jing peak.

of course, being able to travel back in time doesn’t come without a heavy price and in this case, shen qingqiu ends up having to give up the ability to feel emotions as an equivalent exchange to being brought back to the past.

shen qingqiu of course thinks this is the greatest gift that he’s ever been given and quickly moves on with his life. everyone else (read: yue qingyuan, liu qingge, etc.) on the other hand, is appropriately freaked out by this new version of shen qingqiu who just doesn’t seem to care anymore about anything or anyone.

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 13?

Danny just gaslighting the JL and JLD.

They summoned the ghost king obviously Danny shows up cause i love that for him. He’s in human form. He does that on purpose.

Must ppl assume they messed up send him back and leave it at that. Nope not these people.

Constantine is checking the summoning circle again. Just tells Danny he won’t fall for his disguise and that he knows that he’s ghost king. And says he wants to make a deal.

Danny knows this man sells his souls more then his parents claim they want to tear phantom up molecule by molecule and he has no use for a soul anyways. So Danny just says if i was a king i wouldn’t be failing high school. He wouldn’t even go to high school.

Then Danny goes on about how he has a bully so obviously he couldn’t be a king. Not to mention his human non royal parents. They were mad scientist and ghost hunters but that’s as interesting as they got. Also hello he is alive what did Constantine think he was secretly a ghost.

Danny then walks around the circle just pointing at the total correct symbols going are you sure it’s meant to be a crown. What if this king is a queen and has a tiara. Like who are you to assume it’s a king if you’ve never met them.

John isn’t falling for it at all. Now everyone else is doubting him. Batman pulled up Danny on the computer a perfectly normal human child. So Danny is gonna pull out the big guns. Looks at him and goes if i step out will that prove I’m not currently the ghost king.

It’s one of the other JLD members who says he wouldn’t be able to if he was king. It was warded to keep the king in. So Danny who is currently human just steps out.

See he’s totally not the just king. Currently.

Turns out they needed someone to deal with the box ghost. Danny just say oh i got that. He soups him and goes i did say my parents were ghost hunters

Danny failed to realize once he stepped out of the circle they couldn’t send him back that way. So now he is stuck being questioned but hey at least he is in space.

[fairsweetlonging]

just thinking about how binghe had no idea that without-a-cure even had a cure and he spent all his years as a disciple thinking his shizun would at best be disabled for the rest of his life and at worst die a slow and painful death, and it was to save him.

[sylthespren]

my favourite thing about hannibal as a character is that he operates on fey rules. here is a creature who wants to eat you. open his mouth and you will find lacefine rows of needle-sharp teeth. he’s a ghoulish, antler-clad thing that wears human skin and dances to our tunes.

and i think you know on some level, facing him, that he wants to eat you, so aware of his appetite. but, if you follow his rules, his hospitality; if you are polite and interesting and if you say all the right things… you’re suddenly a precious thing to him. and his love is terrible, but if you have it he will do everything but eat you.

he’ll lather you in blood, he’ll drop his soul-stealing morsels into your mouth. he might even grant you a wish.

[kazscrows]

Nobody:

Kaz Brekker:

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 198

Now Bruce was not expecting to reincarnate upon his death. At least he thinks he died, he’s pretty sure he did. There wasn’t any other reason for him to be a well, literal baby. Around two he thinks, which fits well with the fact that it’s around that time that babies start forming memory recall, if he, well, remembered correctly. 

But while he knew about reincarnation thanks to Shayera and Carter, he’d never exactly given it much thought towards himself. Because seriously, what were the chances of such a thing as him being given another chance? 

So he was quite surprised at his situation, experimentally opening and closing pudgy hands that looked well, just a tiny bit off. He’d never been that pale before, he thinks, even back when he never went outside like, ever. 

He turned his gaze towards the mobile above him with a sort of idle curiosity- a mixture of bats (ha) and other trinkets he wasn’t familiar with. It also caused him to get his first good look at his parent, asleep on a rocking chair right next to the crib. 

Huh. They had the same pale skin he did, albeit in the light it looked like it was slightly tinted blue, and while their hair was white they didn’t exactly look old. They looked surprisingly well rested for raising a toddler too, unless they had a nanny or something similar… He rolled over, managing to very shakily push himself to his feet with the help of the crib. 

Why was standing so hard as a toddler? And why did he have his memories of everything except how he had died anyway? 

His head whipped up from where they were staring at his feet when he heard a snort, finding his parent awake and standing. Somehow silently enough that he hadn’t noticed- or he was that easily distracted by the unfamiliar giddiness bursting in his chest. 

“Morning little bat,” his parent easily picked him up and held him while he inwardly sighed at the nickname. Of course his bat motif would follow him into this life. A low rumbling almost caused him to jump, his body relaxing before he could fully register the sound. The… purring? 

Oh. 

He wasn’t human this time around. 

[slouph]

HELP!! I transmitigated into my own novel and developed Complex Feelings for the SCUM VILLIAN!!! 

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

look if finwë’s kids are like this, and his grandkids are like that, i feel pretty secure in saying the elf himself must have been an absolute fucking nightmare. melkor made sure to take him out early because if given the slightest opportunity to level up he would immediately become unstoppable