#human spirit of ice

[snail-friend]

[samsamurott]

Woahh he remembers. I like that he’s being *slightly* more patient with him since the jolly jolly secrets episode.

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

If anyone ever wonders why I draw Hiei and yukina more like mid-brown it's cus Hiei is already the tannest of the boys and I like expanding on that bc there's usually very little skin tone variation in anime so whenever they IS some (even just a little) I like to sorta... Exaggerate it

Also I just think it looks good tbh

[wisdomfish]

Through Christs; miraculous conception by the Holy Spirit, he did not inherit a sinful human nature.

Samples, Kenneth Richard. ‘Without a Doubt: Answering the 20 Toughest Faith Questions. p. 124

[facetheravenwood]

clara (obviously), twelve, and missy for the coffee orders :)

this turned out WAY longer than i thought bc i am autistic about both doctor who and third wave coffee

clara: quad cappuccino with either regular or oat milk bc she's GAY, and she asks for it almost LUDICROUSLY dry because she's insane like that idk. quad shot because she teaches middle schoolers and needs to feed her caffeine addiction to get through the day

twelve: black redeye with about 15 sugars dumped in it so when he gets to the bottom it's a gross slurry, but if there's simple syrup he's using as much as he can fit in his cup. he's morally against milk in his coffee.

missy: very specific instructions on how to make a mocha latte to her exact specifications, with some kind of modifier like "extra extra hot" or "75% as much mocha as you'd normally use" or something else tiny that grates on baristas' nerves. she throws a tantrum (read: commits homicide) if they don't make it specifically how she wants it idk maybe i'm projecting a little here

[standbowed]

@hopingforjustice said: 💡 & 🧲 hee hee

send me a 💡 and i'll tell you my muse's first impression of your muse. alternatively, send me 🧲 and i'll tell you what my muse currently thinks of your muse. // accepting.

"Reimi-chan?" Her expression goes from thoughtful to troubled as she recalls their first meeting, gnawing nervously at her lower lip before she shakes her head. "How should I put it--the situation surrounding the first time we met was--really alarming. There was a lot of stuff I didn't understand then, and Arnold--ohhh, I was so worried about Arnold--I mean, anyone would be, right...? It felt like those stress nightmares people have, you know? Where you're trying everything you can to fix something, but nothing seems to work because the world is all off-kilter in dreams and the rules aren't quite the same. Despite that, Reimi-chan..."

She exhales a slow breath, hands clasping together. Her fingers tap over the knuckles of the opposite hand, expression softening significantly.

"Even though the whole situation was scary, how should I put it... I didn't find her frightening at all, somehow..." A small, sheepish smile tugs at her lips as she ducks her head and rifles through her hair, her free hand gesturing vaguely at the wrist. "And, well, I'm kind of a scaredy cat, so that probably says something about how... soothing a presence she was, despite it all. 'Ah, this is a gentle and kind person'--is what I thought at the time, even though the situation was so unnerving. That was my first impression."

"Nowadays..." Hachi tips her head back up and to the side in thought, mulling over how best to word this. Her smile shifts from sheepish to fond and warm. Earnest. "...the feeling is much the same, only the more I get to learn about her, the more amazed I am. Reimi-chan is... a remarkably strong person. After everything she's gone through, where it would be infinitely easier to sink into despair and lash out at others... her ability to hold her head high, to stay hopeful, to even look out for other people like me who stumbled into the alley and guide them out safely... I think that's a much more difficult thing to do. To remain steadfast and kind in the face of misfortune and cruelty like that is more impressive than any brute strength or special ability ever could be. It's the, um--the strength and resilience of the human spirit, you know?" No pun intended.

"And--I think, more than anything, that I'm lucky to have met such an incredible person, and luckier still to be counted among her friends, and for all the new things about her that I get to learn along the way as a result." Also, her friend is--well, she's absurdly pretty on top of it all--but Hachi doesn't know how to fit that into the rest of this, and besides that, she figures anyone who could see Reimi would know this already. It goes without saying, right?! Right.

[drachliebe]

just thinking about ... what if the power of eisworld IS inherited once the old ruler dies , the kicker being that it comes all at once . a child heir probably cannot withhold literally the entire power of winter , so they're changed accordingly-- quite literarily growing up too fast and being robbed of their childhood in one of the worst ways possible

[yuelun]

I'm a week late with a stupidly cute icon for Guizhong because it's baby dust flake Guizhong and everyone needs to see her. But also yes, I'm late, I apologise, I like to think it's better late than never.

Tag drop #1: General

[leelany-world]

I think I'm an alcoholic when I finish my fic 😂

Chapter 7 of We live, we love, we lie is nearly finished!

Yes, I know, Sixty! 😩🍷

You want to have fun but you don't get some.

Stop fighting, just fuck already.

(I don't make the rules!)

[mima-sama]

Any plans for after world domination

"Y'know, I haven't really thought about that? Maybe I'll fill the world with trees. Trees are nice. They never judge you, they provide shelter and food, and even the very air you breathe."

"... Yeah, I think I'll do that."

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong. (God, I truly wish I could explain non-emotionally how much it means to me to have her on this url).

With shortness of breath, I will explain the infinite And how rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist

[lunatetic]

@desuetmort.

"..... are you looking for this, soul reaper?" the female arrancar trills out to the concerned looking shinigami around a triumphant, cutting smile (tinged with blood) that charmingly crinkles the pretty crescent moon mark under her glittering-obsidian eye. she proudly holds up the last remaining limb of the new-born hollow that had been unlucky enough to cross her covetous path before a-yeong could peacefully exorcise; akin to a cat showing off its most recent kill.

the moth woman was positively preening, unable to help herself.

the recently severed appendage was now just a ribboned ended sallow-hued chunk of flesh, having been torn into violently with teeth-gnashing gusto & efficiently whittled away to near nothing. the redhead absolutely loved nibbling on the tails last if they were available, considering it a desert of sorts after her main course, which hadn't been very big this time; just dart-fast & reptile-esque. a tiny lizard that seemed to have caused more trouble for the soul society member rather than veera herself.

which was pleasing in it's own right.

[49th-rabbitch]

                                🐰 [[[♠] ⅩℒⅠⅩ [♥]]] 🐰

❝ Humans are rather funny little creatures, ne? You start to think, 'hey, this ones a little more rational than the rest!', and then the bias hits them. It never fails. ❞

[trickywanderer]

@cindersteps

(🍹): Thanks to his current adventure to be done, Lognei have went into Underworld to see if he could do any more challenges for himself. So far, he’s in Tartarus with no shocking surprises. It is highly possible that his boat took him in this spirit realm as mockery of his legendary status and being mortal. Of course as “Master of Chaos”, crowded of fire torches couldn’t forbid the wanderer from having really hot sauna day as he just pull out ball chair from his trick satchel and began his narration of this realm.

“The very dark place is full of red and sufferin’, many souls could not have come for their own choice as well as tryin’ to get out of this hell place. Ooh, that was nice one, gotta write that down.” He had his book that can record what he said as part of his task and storyteller. And he’s expert at that. While writing it down on this very page, he just witness someone walking in this realm without trouble, “And now here we are, seein’ the guy who just come in realm without… whoa, that’s the turn of event!”

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Another PSA about this because I hate myself but with the return of Hazbin Hotel, I feel like it needs to be said again:

Alastor is not a w-ndigo.

No, I do not care if he is ever referred to that way in canon. He is not a w-ndigo.

W-ndigoag are sacred Anishinaabe spirits representing greed, cruelty, and desperation. They are often associated with cannibalism, but that's because they're the embodiments of the hunger and desperation that comes with a deep northern winter. Many modern Anishinaabe artists associate them with things like pollution and environmental destruction instead. Reducing them down to cannibalism ignores everything else about them.

Since they're winter spirits (again, DEEP NORTHERN WINTERS), it makes no sense for Alastor, who is still from Louisiana as far as I'm aware, to be one.

Also he's not Anishinaabe. Please leave our cultures alone, thanks. If you want to headcanon him as Anishinaabe, have fun, but leave our sacred spirits out of it.

W-ndigoag are not deer.

W-NDIGOAG ARE NOT DEER.

Repeat it with me, folks: W-ndigoag. Are. Not. Deer.

The deer association was completely made up by people turning our cultures into their profits; it has absolutely no basis in either traditional or modern Anishinaabe stories. W-ndigoag, in cultural stories, are either emaciated humans or massive ice humanoids with the person frozen inside of them. They're not deer.

Alastor can just be a cannibalistic deer demon. That's okay. Hell, real deer have been recorded eating meat and even scavenging on human remains. You don't have to appropriate from Native cultures to make him a freaky deer.

Please don't try to argue with me about this, I am so tired and I will start crying.