#mention of gore

[clawsofakiller]

*Wolverine #42 spoiler alert*

Why the hell did they killed Pretty Boy and Captain?????????? What and why??? I accept character death but what and why??? "Hey dear readers get tired of the original big bad mean ol' Sabretooth? Here's a surprise! We created a flamboyant sexy celebrity Sabretooth, a Captain America Sabretooth and this steaming hot mother or goddess or whatever female sabretooth, ugh there's a Sabretooth that does camouflage we just stuck him in for the plot but that's fine! Because we already created 3 of alternative funny and hot Sabretooth and in the end of our last series they built a team! We've got them standing and smiling to the camera like a freaking movie poster! You're gonna love this, dear readers! CUZ INSTEAD OF TELLING THEIR STORY AND LEAD YOU TO TRAVEL ACROSS THEIR ALTERNATIVE TIMELINE WE SIMPLY JUST KILLED THEM THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY TEAMMATES OF THE 616 SABRETOOTH BUT SINCE THEY ARE GONE NOW YOU'RE GONNA WAIT HERE CONFUSED AND ANGRY FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS BEFORE YOU READ THE NEXT ISSUE! Enjoy your ride!"

Why? Why did you kill them so easily? It's a huge waste of character potential why did you do this Percy? And thanks for drawing Sabretooth tortured and killed mutant kids for god's sake, eww the scene looks like someone did their research on bestgore

[monstersandmaw]

I came across a link on here to a transcript from an old-school message board thread entitled "dogs in elk", in which someone's two dogs had found an elk carcass, climbed inside, and had an extremely gross and gory party whilst refusing to come out for at least a full day

Please imagine someone dealing with their werewolf partner doing this. "No, they're not stuck. Yeah, I can't remove them, they plant their paws in and scream when I try. They're very happy. Please can you bring a chainsaw and the mobile dog wash van. And some brandy. I am so tired."

(As a dog owner, part of the fun is the "oh for ****'s sake" moments they generate)

Oh man, dogs are the worst sometimes (and I say this as a former dog owner). My spaniel would be guaranteed to find the nastiest shit out there on a walk (literally sometimes) and roll in it. Or eat it. Or both.

Anyway, yes, shifted werewolves who lose track of their 'human' mind and control a bit would definitely get into disgusting shenanigans like that. They'd come to afterwards and be like... 'babe... why are you looking at me like that? ahhh shit, what did i do this time?'

[melancholypancakes]

Welcome home Trapped Neighborhood AU belongs to @cloudysunflowr

In this Dark AU, Brienne struggles between Yvette and Annette's personalities who make her existence.

Two personalities, one full of rage, despair, fear, envy, apathy, disgust

And the other is full of love, hope, selflessness, empathy, kindness, and trust.

Brienne has Dissociative identity disorder or in short DID.

The two personalities are Yvette and Annette Moreau.

Two twin sisters from the 60s, souls with unfinished business.

In "The Tale of two sisters" both were brutally murdered unknown to the world and their parents.

The girl's souls were bound to a puppet named "Brienne Velvet" a vessel, their fusion.

Unfortunately, this brings Brienne to deal with a vengeful soul and spiritually kind soul.

But this is what makes Brienne, "Brienne" she is cocky, confident, and unique but she is also kind and loving.

Brienne isn't the same as OG Brienne due to being a fusion and defective.

This is NOT the Brienne, you know.

This is Brienne Moreau, different from Brienne Velvet.

A darker version of OG Brienne, tortured by two personalities with dark intentions...

I'll put it in this way, Annette is like Pink Diamond, and Yvette is like Rose Quartz from "Steven Universe.

Brienne pink collar eyeball is a reference version of "Rosario + Vampire"

The puppet Brienne Velvet being a fusion, a different person part from Yvette & Annette Moreau is a reference to Garnet from "Steven Universe".

It's like Garnet but a sister version, with their soul merging into a different person with both their qualities.

Brienne being a fusion is also a reference to Darkiplier but inside of the two souls being gone.

Yvette and Annette's souls are still in Brienne.

Wally and Home meet the fusion as Brienne Moreau much like from "Steven universe" like Rose quartz and pearl met garnet officially

Annette & Yvette talked to Brienne, only she could hear them until Yvette gave her the idea to turn her pearl into an eyeball.

The purpose is to talk to not only Brienne but to all the neighbors.

When the eyeball is blue, it is Yvette speaking, and when it's red, it's Annette.

When it is purple, it is Brienne while Yvette or Annette take control of her body.

Brienne's eyes are blue, and Yvette shows combat and her smarts.

When her eyes are red, Annette shows compassion, kindness, and manipulation.

When both eyes are blue and red, the sisters take over.

This is only for emergencies...

The sisters help Brienne in this world of choices on paths and make sure she stays alive.

Brienne fully believes she must save Wally from Home while many others and the sisters want to kill him.

Or the very least the neighbors want to leave.

Brienne has been titled "crazy" "nut job" and "The Mad Neighbor" due to her naive and " delusions".

Brieenne was never accepted by the neighborhood due to her unique aesthetic.

She convinced only Wally liked her, accepted her and her ONLY Best friend.

That wasn't the case, Julie joyful really enjoyed her company as well as poppy and Eddie.

Brienne and Y/n's relationship is vague, as Brienne means well to save the neighborhood.

By saving Wally, however, YOU and the neighbors don't believe Wally deserves mercy or is worth saving.

Y/n just wants to leave but can't help but have second thoughts.

Brienne knows Home has something to do with this and Wally was manipulated and brainwashed.

She tried to tell the neighbors but they won't help her and she begs Y/n to help her.

Y/n feels bad for her but can't tell if she is insane or just grieving...

Brienne and Y/n have a potential friendship or romantic relationship much like in the Evil Wally AU.

As for her pet, Nancy the black house spider went missing.

Brienne was so worried as were Yvette and Annette.

What they feel, Brienne feels much like their feelings for Julie and Y/n.

It was known in the show that Brienne had feelings for Julie joyful, as she was the one who accepted her.

A reference from "Killer Frequency" that brings a closure to Nancy "disappearance".

Brienne saves Julie from Wally only for her leg to be stuck under a wood.

She groaned in pain as she yelled at the neighbors to run.

Yvette and Annette tried to move the wood off but they weren't strong enough.

It ended to Brienne trying to cover her mouth as Y/n was on the walkie talkie.

"Brienne! Are you alright?!" Y/n yelled over.

"My...leg it's stuck. I don't what to do...he's looking for me." She whimpers

"Wait...oh no. He saw me, shit! Ugh!" Brienne grunts as she tries to move her leg.

It nearly brings her into tears as this is how she dies.

"Brienne, stay calm maybe" they tried to say but everything silent and they fear the worst.

"Brienne!" They yelled out, "he...he just pull the wood off and walked away." She whispered.

"W-what?" Y/n asked in confusion, "he put Nancy in my hair and left" she said as she was still in shock.

"Nancy...alive?" Y/n said as they heard Brienne get up and grabbed the walkie talkie.

She was running, "I'll meet you back at the base!" She said before ending the call.

{...}

Home wanted to get rid of Brienne as her personality would get in the way

Brienne wasn't acting her role, being the joyful gothic neighbor who doesn't question anything and is friends with everyone.

But Brienne seemed to be unliked, Wally and Brienne were friends but in the end, he kept shutting her out.

Brienne's only friend was Wally and she just wanted to know what did she do wrong.

What was wrong?

Why is so distant?

Angry, frustrated?

She was so worried, Annette. was worried while Yvette had a bad feeling making Brienne not only worried but frightened.

Not knowing what was to come...

Darkness came, the world was no longer light or bright....just dark.

Neighbors hiding from a monster.

Much like the others, Brienne hid but was worried where was Nancy?

Her pet spider was nowhere to be seen.

What if that monster ate her?!

Brienne wanted to cry, Nancy couldn't fight.

But then she covered her mouth as she heard Barnaby but she knew it wasn't him.

It's not HIM.

Lucky for her, the doors and windows were locked and curtains closed.

She couldn't sleep but who was the monster?

She wanted to look but Yvette told her not to.

It wasn't pretty and...she knew who it was. She knew it was the puppet they loved.

Brienne kept Yvette smart so she kept quiet throughout the night.

This went on for weeks, still, Brienne tried to reach out to Wally but the neighbors wouldn't let her.

As if they knew something and as time went on...she notice Eddie and Sally were missing.

Ever since the disappearance of the neighbors.

Brienne changed her wardrobe, she was wearing a unique outfit she designed herself and knife pocked on he red legs with sharp boots.

She had a pink collar with her pearl that Yvette turned eyeball.

Now, Yvette and Annette could talk through the eyeball.

It was Yvette's idea, Brienne needed to be prepared for anything and dressed for the situation.

One night, against Brienne's better judgment.

She went into the night against her voices, They begged and told her, through the eyeball for her to turn back.

The neighbors saw her leave the house not attempt to leave the neighborhood but to who the monster was.

The neighbors wanted to stop her but they knew.

They would get themselves killed too.

Brienne couldn't make out the figure until she squinted and saw...it.

Wally Darling...her best friend.

Brienne was horrified, betrayed, confused, and melancholy.

Yvette couldn't bare seeing this and Annette was horrified

She saw arms of her friends...body parts of those who she had meaningful connections with...

Why?

Why did he do this?

Wally would never do this...

Brienne had Yvette's smart and Annette's heart.

Deep down, she knew Wally didn't do this...he was brainwashed by his house.

Before Wally could grab her Annette and Yvette took over.

Her right eye was red while her left was blue and raised her axe in the air.

They raised it down on him, while missed him a blast came from the exe pushing him away from their body and they fled back into the neighborhood.

They ran into the house, locking the doors and windows.

They weren't taking any chances, they could hear Wally crawling towards the neighborhood looking for new parts.

Ss time passed...

Julie tried to convince her that it was Wally's fault for what happened to their friends.

She only cared for Brienne's safety and didn't want Brienne delusions to get in the way.

But...she knew Wally wasn't right in his head and he needed to be saved.

Or else Home was going to torture the neighborhood for eternity.

For Wally does not know he was killing his friends...

[gummybugg]

🗡️Writeblr Battle Royale!💥

Super glad I to got to work with @quisyop on this battle scene between my oc Blair (from Crater City) and their oc Io (from Orbit of Thieves)! Thanks @writeblrbattleroyale for hosting this event! Really enjoyed it and yall should Really check out the other opponents' fights :'D

Without further ado, welcome to the violence and gore of the battle between Blair vs Io! 🎉⚔️

POV: 1st person, Blair

Warning: mentions of blood and gore

...

I woke up with a splitting headache that would put jackhammers to shame. I must have had a massive hangover.... Except, I found myself in a place I had never been before. 

Somewhere vast but enclosed. Somewhere bright but also dark. Somewhere starch but gruesome. Reminded me of the dentist’s. It sent shivers down my spine. 

Maybe I really had blacked out drunk. I was in some sort of stadium like I’d seen in an old gladiator movie. Man, do I really gotta fight a lion?

Someone overhead was speaking, interrupting my thoughts, but I couldn't make out all the words due to its intense reverb. Looks like someone needs to get their speakers checked. I would have offered to take a look at them with no extra charge, except I didn’t take this whole killing-game-thing too lightly.

"Welcome to the battle my...contestants. Welcome to....bloodshed. I am M, your humble game master. In front of me are our contenders....The only way out is either killing your opponent or dying. These two are a...interesting duo! I just can’t wait for the show!" 

Soon, "Livin' la Vida Loca" by Ricky Martin began playing in the overhead speakers. Well, at least they have good music taste.

I wonder what M stands for. Maybe their name is so embarrassing that they only want to be known by a single letter. Or maybe if you utter their name you'll get cursed. Or die. Or summon Satan! Gah, focus on the task at hand, Blair, your life is at stake! 

I saw Elijah in the stands among a sea of blank faces. I waved back, but he didn't seem so enthused. He yelled something at me but I couldn’t really make it out too well.

M announced my name and the name of my opponent. I couldn't exactly hear what their name was or see what they looked like so far away (about 50 feet, more or less), so I decided to go and ask them.

Surely they don't take that ego-inflated asshat M that seriously. Battle to the death? Come on, I have better things to spend my time on. Like running from authorities. 

"Hey, dude!" I waved at the figure in the distance that seemed unmoving. 

As I approached him, I began to piece together a better picture: this guy was much taller than me. He had a dark complexion, gray hair, and a serious vibe. And he was wearing formal attire. Why didn't anyone tell me this was a formal event? I looked down. Yep, I was still in my t-shirt and cargo shorts. How terribly underdressed!

There was no response from the man, even though we were six feet apart at this point. 

"Hi, so–" I kept my hands visible. 

Then he performed one of those roundhouse kicks and made me fall on my ass! My croc flew up in the air. I grabbed it before it hit the ground, then proceeded to bat his face as he attempted to strangle me. 

"Io knocks Blair down and strangles him!" The speakers blare. 

"What is wrong with you? Are you irradiated or something?" I gasped, struggling to get back on my feet.

"Stay still!" He clocked my jaw with the hilt of his gun, then placed his hands around my neck, "I said, stay still!"

"Why are you so mean?" I spit out a tooth. Metallic fluids filled in the gap. 

I wedged my hands between his grip on my neck, pulling him down for a kick in the chest. This didn't seem to slow him down because he lunged at me again. I dodged in an effort to slash his arm with my balisong. But he was too slippery! I couldn't even grace the hairs on his body!

"Wait, you can't kill me! I don't even know your name!" I called, wiggling around him. I clawed at his face to unsteady his aim.

Then a gunshot sounded. 

I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. Blood soaked through my shirt. Something must have grazed my shoulder…? Well, at least it blends in, I reasoned.

Oh, shit. Wait, he really does have a gun, doesn’t he?

"Hey, what was that for, man?" I beat him with my croc, the jagged jibbitz drawing blood on his cheek. I peeled back a small chunk of his eye with the edge of a heart charm. 

"You bastard, get that shoe–" He took my croc and tossed it across the stadium "–outta my face!"

"Hey, you owe me 60 credits for that!”

Then he aimed a gun at my face. 

Rude. 

“And you owe me your life. Goodbye, Blair." He sneered, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. 

Oh, I don’t like it when they sneer. 

With record speed, I swung open my balisong. A few tricks ought to knock his ego down a few pegs! I decided to perform a classic: the old Van Gogh trick. A toss of the knife up in the air to be snatched next to my ear. 

But before the knife could slip comfortably into the crook of my neck, a bullet ricocheted off the blade midair and right into some guy’s head in the audience. His head exploded like a piñata, showering those behind him in red. The crowd cheered. Well, except the dead guy. 

My knife clattered to the ground.

“Io’s bullet ricochets off of Blair’s blade!” M announced. 

Oh, so that’s what his name is. And what was with the old-timey ammo? Didn't everyone use electric weapons these days? Well, at least he’s human and not a droid. Right? I'm at least 80% sure he's human. 

“How did you…?" Io narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight. I wasn't sure how I pulled off that stunt either, but I wasn't gonna tell him that. "Doesn't matter," he positioned his aim. The ground pulsed dramatic shades, syncing to the beat of the song. It was like some sick and twisted dance battle to the death.

Click. 

Click. Click. Click.

The sweet sound of an empty gun. 

"Uh-oh! Seems Io has run out of ammo!" M inserted himself. The crowd gasped.

"Shit!” He rubbed his temple. 

My eyes caught the large crates in the distance behind Io, who fumbled with his gun for a moment. They were probably chock-full of that precious old-school ammo. 

But Io didn't take his eyes off of me. In fact, he raised a brow at me. But just before he could follow my gaze, I pulled a fast one. I grabbed my knife.

It spun swiftly around my finger, flicking upward in a triple somersault. But gravity wasn't on my side, since it launched the first two joints from my left pinkie at Io's face. 

Well, you win some, you lose some. 

"What the–did you just throw your finger at me?"

"And Blair uses a secret family technique: confuse-your-opponent-by-slinging-a-severed-finger-at-them!" M announced as the crowd oohed and ahhed.

The look on Io's face was horrifying. Truly a look of pure bloodlust. He wiped the severed finger off with the back of his hand as if it were a chip crumb. My finger lay on the ground in a small pool of red, all alone. 

"Uh, oh."

I booked it to the large, wooden crates, which sat on the other side of the stadium. I had to get there before he did, or else I’d turn into Piñata Man. Thankfully my years of running from the law finally paid off. Suddenly I was the poster boy for the Presidential Challenge, and no one could stop me! 

"Come over here, you slippery bastard!" Io swung his gun at my head as he got closer and closer. He was definitely a fast one. 

"Yeah, for you to turn me into swiss cheese? Everyone knows string cheese solos!" I called into the wind. Whether or not he heard what I said was out of my control. I had a pile of crates waiting for me to guard!

Along the curved wall of the stadium were ads for movies I had never heard of before: Chess vs Brooke, Mary vs Ametrine, Herschel vs Jackson… Then I saw our reflections bounce off the reflective gaps in between each poster. Io ran with the speed and grace of a gazelle before being attacked by prey. Except I was the poor excuse of a bush that he was chasing after. 

"And Io and Blair are racing to the crates! Who will get there first?" The speakers announced. "It was about time they noticed. I thought the materials were going to go to waste…"

Io finally threw his gun at my head, but missed due to my tendency to run in a zigzagging motion. 

From the sidelines, Elijah cheered me on, a stained paper bag in hand: "You better not die, Blair!" 

"Not in the plans!" I shouted back. 

I was about as nimble as a baby hippo, but used this feature to my advantage–suddenly stopping, dropping, and rolling to catch Io by surprise–causing him to trip. I rolled back, putting all my weight on his spine, planting his face on the ground. Quickly, I pinned one arm with my knee and one right arm with my hand. 

"You don't know what you're doing, Blair!" He wriggled like a worm in a petri dish. Probably because the ground tasted like ass. I held the blade of my balisong to his neck. 

Io seemed confused at my special fighting techniques I picked up from the city streets because he mentioned something about my freakish skills and complete lack of self-regard. I shrugged it off; it was just a couple of flesh wounds. The pain was just now setting in, though, so I was getting a bit antsy.

"In a shocking turn of events, Blair has Io pinned!" M sounded as if he were smiling. At least someone got a kick out of our pain. "Will this be Io's last few moments?"

"Get off of me!" Io wriggled more viciously. 

"Listen, I really don't want to kill you," I pressed the blade into his skin. "But your attitude is telling me to reconsider." 

"I don't need your pity." He spat on my croc. "Eat shit."

This felt…too easy.

But I couldn't just release him. No, this man was even more unpredictable than me. I couldn't take any chances. 

It wasn't like I enjoyed any of this. Just yesterday I took Elijah to his favorite restaurant after news of a new lead. Info on the guy who tried to kill him for his debt that one night. I'd get to avenge Elijah, finally. I was so close. We were so close.

Is this what my life has come to? Fighting violence with more violence? Am I really as heartless and impulsive as they tell me?

It’s not supposed to end this way.

I dug the blade deep into Io's neck with a sickening squelch, watching the blood pool around his head in the shape of a halo. Reflecting back was the blank stare of a cold-blooded killer. I pressed harder into the wound my hands had inflicted.

My blood–no, Io’s blood–sputtered on the arm that pinned him down. My eyes were unmoving. They did not look away until the pressure of the liquid calmed. 

There was not a single twitch. No retort. No fighting back.

Maybe there really is no other way to save things. I am doomed to repeat these violent tendencies.

"It seems Blair has delivered the final blow! What a conclusive ending to such a speedy battle!" M's voice echoed in stereo, the audience absolutely losing their minds. 

I don't think I like this anymore…Does this make me a monster? I was just doing what I had to do to survive. What does Elijah think of it all? My thoughts spun faster and faster. 

I turned to the crowd, but his face was nowhere to be seen. Had I just imagined it? Was he ever there to begin with? 

I looked down at Io's lifeless body. Nothing had changed. He was still dead, and my hands were still connected to the weapon.

The crowd cheered my name. My name. The name of a murderer. 

I released the balisong from my grip. Io's sticky blood coated each finger like a coat of cheap paint, the same way kids play with red paint when pretending to be a vampire. But I wasn't a kid, this was real life. I wasn’t a vampire, but a murderer. 

“Congratulations, Blair, you have made it to the second round!” M roared, the crowd continuing to chant my name. The stadium lit up in an array of bright colors, and confetti poured down from the invisible ceiling. Cannons and fireworks went off, making me jump. Their popping sounded similar to that of a gun firing. 

I buried my face in my hands. They smelled of metal. They stained my lips. I saw red through my fingers as I tilted my head up to the source of M's voice. 

What has he done to me? 

No.

Why did I let him get to me?

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (ask to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23

[kerim-08]

Shoutout to all the aces who are totally ok when seeing gore, vomit, killings, rot, and everything else people find disgusting in media, but do feel disgust at any sexual theme pr advance

I got called both inmmature and a freak for not flinching when seeing someone with a bullet to the head and dismembered hands, but covering my eyes when two characters got it going

Trust me, you are not alone

[averagekindergartenfan]

CW: G-RE MENTION

NAHHHHH DID SOMEONE JUST SPAM GORE IN EVERY CHAT CHANNEL IN THE FUCKING HONEY'S TEXT DECOR DISCORD SERVER???

[sweetisearia]

❤️‍🩹┊ BIOLOGICAL INFORMATION ﾟ*

Name: Yuri ‘Cherry’

Nickname(s): Cherry, Cher-Cher, Sakura (-Rouge), Little Demon

Gender: Non-binary, any/all

Age: 16

Birthday: 4-4-XXXX or April 4th

Starsign: Aries

✒︎┆Appearance

Eyes

Their eyes are a light blue in the left and white in the right. His eyelashes are white. His eyes would be called Doe Eyes.

Hair

His hair is a beautiful pink, but it’s not natural. His hair is naturally a light blonde, and he will occasionally let it grow out. It’s a bit past shoulder length.

Other

He often gets confused for a girl, but he doesn’t mind. He often wears dresses and skirts, along with more feminine clothes.

—

Height: 185

Dominate hand: Right

Race: Fae

┆↵

Homeland:

Twisted from: The Kawaii-Gore/Cute-Gore style. Kawaii/Cute on the outside lol

•°•═════ஓ๑🌸๑ஓ═════•°•

🎀┊SCHOOL LIFEﾟ⋆

Dorm: Pomfiore

School Year: 1st year

Class: 1-A

Club(s): Gaming

Sports: N/A

Best Subject: Potions

•°•═════ஓ๑🎀๑ஓ═════•°•

Personality

He is unnervingly interested in gore, and is honestly pretty violent when angry and is short tempered. However, he is trying to calm down more. He also is pretty famous online, even voiced a few characters in games.

Unique magic: N/A

🌙┊ FUN FACTS ﾟ⋆

Favorite food: strawberries

Least favorite food: veggies

Preferred Combat style: Doesn’t really fight much but would absolutely fist fight anyone if it was allowed

Likes: The Cute/Kawaii style, Lolita styles, gaming, cute animals, cute stuff in general, gore, horror, making music with whatever the twst version of vocaloid is

Dislikes: Being in Pomfiore, sports

Hobby: messing around with Twst!Vocaloid stuff

Talent: Threatening people sewing

🧸┊TRIVIAﾟ⋆.

• he knows how to sew, and he makes a lot of his own outfits

•is well known in a lot of communities, mostly TWST!Vocaloid, Lolita fashion, and horror communities

•has a twin brother who also attends NRC, he’s in Diasomnia.

[kalocart]

Has anyone explored the posibility of Jachin-chan having trauma?

Like jashin-chan has had her stomach sliced open, hand blended, speared, etc. Shes basically been violently maimed for all her shit. But what if she then develops anxiety over her decisions at some point in fear of the violent reprocutions, or some type of phobia due to the shit they did to her.

Medusa and minos worrying about her.

Maybe yurine finding another way to punish her and win her trust or something that doesn't have to do with her piercing her.

Idk Jashin-chan may be a bitch but I dont think blending her hand fixes it

[stil-lindigo]

patchwork canary.

a comic about two girls, fate, and a powerful man who felt entitled to something that wasn’t his to own.

support me on patreon (if you’d like to see more comics like this one)

[lustyvoidsandvoidylusts]

I've seen people tagging stuff with "cw xyz" or "tw xyz", which is fine and all, but wouldn't that mess with what people have blocked? Like if someone has, i dunno, "gore" blocked as a tag, something tagged with "cw gore" or "tw gore" would still show up for them it all it's upsetting glory for them, completely destroying the purpose of blocking a tag that upsets someone

And especially since it's a bit a pain in the ass to block tags, this can be quite annoying if one has to block like 10 different tags for the same thing, just to be 100% sure that they won't see anything that would upset them.

It also messes with searches for people who do want to look up for certain stuff for whatever reason, cause now they have to go through multiple, similar tags, to find what they're looking for, and it's just so annoying imo.

Besides. The tags *are* the warnings. They dont need extra tags for it to be a content or trigger warning. Like what the hell???

[humanjeff]

think my favourite part of Harrow the Ninth is that there's a bit where she gets hit in the face so hard she loses a bunch of teeth, then uses the fragments of her own shattered teeth to explode a man's eyeballs - and it never gets mentioned by anyone discussing the book because in a few pages there's a soup scene that is Very Much Worse.

[5ftboy]

"We're all over this fucking bear."

[gummybugg]

⚔️Writeblr Battle Royale Round 2: The Crispy Treatment🔥

Excited to reveal what @mysticstarlightduck and I have collaborated on for the battle scene between her oc Julyan (from The Last Wrath) and my oc Blair (from Crater City)! Thanks @writeblrbattleroyale for hosting this event! Please check out the other battles, they are quite spicy!

Are you excited for blood and gore? Well, Blair and Julyan sure aren’t :’D

warning: mention of death, gore, fire/burning, vomit, hallucinations, and panic attack

The world whirls around him, the old arena fading away as Julyan feels himself being transported, floating as if underwater. To where, that he can’t tell. 

After a mere moment, he feels the ground beneath his feet once again, and hazily blinks open his eyes. It feels like the last time he was brought here. And different all the same. 

As his vision adapts to new lighting, he feels a surge of energy pass through him, as if his body is healing from the ache of his previous opponent’s attacks, exhaustion giving place to full awareness once again, like it would after a full night’s rest. Strange, he frowns, but a welcomed feeling nonetheless. Everything is hazy around him. He can’t see the arena, it’s all, blurred, like his sight isn’t quite right. Julyan closes his eyes, rubbing them, and then opens his eyes again. It wasn’t much help, but that’s when he notices her, standing across from him. Her clothes are strange, but he quickly recognizes her garb as typical of a Fortune Teller. She looks at him, for a moment, he notices her eyes are filled with unspeakable sorrow. 

Maybe she doesn’t want to be here either. Given his recent experiences, that doesn’t seem unlikely.

Is she a new opponent? No, I don’t think so. Something doesn’t seem quite right. But if she is not my opponent, then what is she?

Before Julyan can figure out the answer to that thought, however, the Fortune Teller woman moves. And points to him. Directly. Once again, his surroundings swirl around him, and for a brief moment, Julyan feels like he is falling, fast, towards somewhere he cannot see, spinning like a kite caught in the wind. Before it stops, just as suddenly as it began, and he feels the ground beneath him again. 

Groaning from all the swirling and sudden crash, he stands up, and takes a lot around. He immediately regretted that decision. 

Looking around, at first it seems as if he is back home, in Agrannor. It’s the same snow covered streets of his city, the same stone carven walls. But there is blood upon the snow, and the wall’s ancient stone is marred by the all too familiar fires of war. Everything seems misplaced, destroyed. It’s nothing like what everything looked like when he was first whisked away to this dreadful competition. 

Something is wrong, terribly so.

A shrill scream cuts through the winter air, and Julyan feels as if his blood was frozen inside him, terror filling him. He knows this voice, he knows this voice too well. It can’t be… nonono… Julyan whirls around in the direction of the sound, heart beginning to race within his chest. 

Please no, Gods, anything but this, don’t let it be what I think it is -

The dreadfully familiar sigil of the Secret Court comes into view, as assassins march mercilessly through the ruins of the city around him. Terror follows soon after, the feeling he had wished he’d never feel, the fate he lived to avoid. Their enemies had found them. 

And worst, much worse yet. His siblings were caught in the crossfire. Julyan wanted to scream, or vomit, whatever came first. He felt as if his heart is going to punch a whole through his chest, terror and grief growing as he took in the sight that was standing in front of him. 

A red cloaked assassin smiled, rotten, standing behind his younger sister, a wickedly sharp dagger held dangerously close to her throat. Behind them, there was more blood on the snow, and Julyan wanted to curl up and die when he realized from where it was coming from. Azra, his adoptive brother, lay on top of the growing red stain, alive - but the deep gash at his side told Julyan that it would not be for long. 

Shaking, he finds his voice, looking up at the assassin placatingly. 

“Please, just… let them go, alright? There’s no need to involve them. You need a victim, don’t you? Then take me. Kill me, hurt me, do whatever you want. Just let them both live.”

The assassin tilted their head, glowing eyes a sickening reminder of what Julyan was trying to avoid. They laughed. 

“It’s too late for that, Sunscryer.” The voice echoes around him, like a ghost, sounding more like a snake’s hiss than anything human. “You ran, like a coward. You were too afraid to face your punishment, your fate. Now you pay the price of your freedom.”

The person pulled the dagger closer to Raelen’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood, and she sobbed. “Julyan, help me!”

Julyan tried to move, to take a step closer, do something. But he couldn’t, as if his feet were stuck in place. His eyes flitted between his sister and the assassin holding her at knifepoint. He wished he could comfort her, save her. But there was no time.

With renewed desperation, Julyan struggled against his inability to move, something still holding him stuck in place, as his legs were rooted to the floor. That didn’t stop him from trying - even though it was not working. 

“Stop!” Julyan commanded the assassin, though it came out as a desperate, ragged plea. “Don’t do this -  hey, I’m right here. I won’t fight you if you let them go. A-at all. Kill me now and end this madness, not them, please, leave them both alone. I’ll do whatever you want -”

The shadowy figure of the assassin laughed once more, shaking their head in sadistic glee. Julyan jumped forward, or at least he tried to, attempting to reach the assassin before it was too late. 

But he was helpless to only watch as the figure stabbed his sister in the heart. 

Time seemed to stop as crimson blood gushed out of the fresh wound, staining her robes around the twisting blade. For a moment, Julyan could not find the words to speak, or the air to breath, as he stared down his worst fear. 

Until he fell to his knees, a gut-wrenching scream leaving him and echoing mournfully around him, the realization of what he just witnessed being too much to even bear. “NO!”  Manic desperation filled him, his eyes glued to the corpses on the red snow before him, and the assassin walking away.

The wind picked up pace around him, but despite it, Julyan felt like he was being suffocated. He covered his face, nails digging into his pristine skin as he covered his eyes, unable to move. Unable to think. 

He couldn’t tell if the roaring sound that seemed to surround him was just the wind, or the blood rushing behind his ears. He couldn’t care less right now - he barely realized he was still sobbing, even though he couldn’t find the ability to stop. 

Around him, behind the roaring of the foggy wind, all other sounds seemed muffled, underwater. He didn’t open his eyes. 

But then, the wind stopped, and so did the sounds behind it. Julyan felt numb, despite the hammering of his heart within his chest and the shaking of his hands where they still rested upon his face. 

Faintly, in the back of his mind, Julyan felt a glimmer of recognition. Only slightly. Of where he’d been before all this horror came to be. Despite his mind still spiralling around him, and without caring enough to wipe away his tears, he looked up. 

And as expected his new opponent was standing right before him, a triumphant smile on their face. 

A frantic wind surrounded Blair, who removed his now-clean hands from his face to observe the arena morphing into something unrecognizable. That's right, he had survived. He made it! 

But he didn't feel free. 

Instead of the juxtaposing light and shadows of the old, reflective stadium, an even more vast and desolate field spread out before him. Through a silver mist, an old-timey fortune teller lady stepped forth, her arm outstretched. Her eyes told stories of long, forgotten tragedies. Too bad Blair’s could possibly be next.

Upon opening his eyes, Blair recognized his surroundings matching that of Elijah's apartment. Blair also found himself at gunpoint. At the end of the weapon stood what appeared to be Elijah, whose blurry face twisted in horror. 

"Get away from me, you freak!" Elijah crouched in the corner of the room, clutching his chest. His face was splotchy and his voice was ragged and worn. 

"What are you...?" Blair asked slowly. He took a step forward. 

"Get back, or I'll shoot!" Elijah said, except it didn't sound like he was convinced enough to pull the trigger. 

Shoot me? But I didn't do anything! I don't even know how I got here!

The grip Blair didn't notice he had on his knife tightened. How did that get there? He brought his hands up to his face. Sticky residue clung to his hands and dug dark, red trenches into each fold. He turned the knife over in his hand until he caught a glimpse of his blank expression. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Blair closed the gap between them, causing Elijah to visibly shake under his shadow. He couldn't seem to release the knife, but kept his hands visible at the very least. "Tell me who did this to you," he demanded. 

"Please, just get out of my apartment!" Elijah choked, "I'll do anything you want, just--just please don't hurt me again!"

"Again...?" Blair's voice trembled. Then he followed Elijah’s gaze. 

Elijah looked down at the red spot on his chest that he had been clutching grow larger, the expression on his face melting into grotesque fear. Blair watched in a dissociative silence as his friend began hacking up blood at the sight of his wound, exacerbating his injury. 

In a blink, Blair found himself ripped away from the mini nightmare. 

This time, his setting appeared like one of the ancient worlds in an old sci-fi or fantasy movie he had seen once. But instead of a bloody man crouched before him, it was a girl Blair couldn't recognize. Behind them, another stranger. The stranger seemed to care a lot about this girl as he wailed in a similar heart-wrenching agony to Elijah's just a moment ago. 

As pitiful as the sight was, this stranger was irrelevant to Blair. In fact, the situation kind of confused him. Although his intuition told him this vision wasn't in any way connected to him, something about the man dressed in that unusually outdated attire struck him as important. But why, he wasn’t sure yet. 

But this was made clear the moment he opened his eyes from the vision: the man he had seen seconds ago in the nightmare resumed his crouched position in real life. The only thing missing was that bleeding girl. 

This was his opponent, the announcement made it clear. 

Blair has begun the battle with the upper hand, it seemed. Well, at least he had a psychological advantage, not much so a physical one...he glanced at the balisong in his hand. No more stabbing people, he promised himself. He didn't like how death felt in his hands the last round. He tried not to think about it too hard. Blair forced his vision that had tried to resurface to the back of his head. No more thoughts. Save that energy for winning the fight. 

He took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips to steady his shaking. Psychological warfare wasn't his forte, and neither was kicking a wounded animal. But it made Blair more secure in his actions to rile his opponent up rather than kick him while he's down. 

"Hey, are you gonna keep crying or fight?"

Blair wasn't sure what happened after death but thought it couldn't nearly be as shitty as fighting for a self-absorbed, sorry excuse of a circus ringmaster. As far as he could tell, this was no circus, unless Blair and Julyan counted as the clowns. 

"Crying isn't gonna bring your friend back from death, you know." 

The last few words came out of Blair’s throat a bit more unevenly than the rest. Julyan probably already knew why, as Blair’s vision had presumably leaked into his. But it didn't seem like his taunt had much of an effect on Julyan. So he pushed harder. 

"You won't be able to save her in time if you die and M gets to her first."

Julyan glared upwards, steadying himself on the floor. The shaking didn’t seem to stop. Faintly, his mind still foggy from the panic, Julyan grasped what this new person was trying to say. 

They were urging him to fight. No, they were taunting him to fight. Julyan narrowed his eyes, seeing the knife clutched on his opponent’s hand as the man took a step closer. He shook his head, feeling at the same time numb and overwhelmed. Scrambling, Julyan tried to think of what to do. His grip on his powers was fickle as is, but right now, after what he was forced to witness, his connection to the flames felt severed. Using them right now would causing him more harm than it would to his opponent.

New plan then. His arms were still shaking too much to fight, but he had a dagger. Blair - he recalled the name given by the announcer - didn’t have to know Julyan wouldn’t live up to his threats. He just had to buy some time, and then find a way to run away. 

Julyan knew that, if he was to survive this, he needed at least some time to recover. In his current state, he would be an easy mark. 

Shakily, he gathered himself up and rose to his feet, pulling out his dagger from under his overcoat, and pointing it at Blair. 

“... Get away from me.” Julyan ordered, trying to make his words threatening. Unfortunately, they came out as more of a desperate plea than anything else, and the trembling of his hand as he pointed the dagger wasn’t helping. His eyes flitted around, and he saw an entrance to the maze, just a few feet beside him. 

If he could gain distance, and stall his opponent long enough, he could make a run for it. Once inside the maze, he could try to figure this out, to control his powers and … fight. Maybe. but only then. 

Gracelessly but slowly, like a cornered animal, Julyan started making his way towards the pathway, not once looking away from his opponent as he backed away, dagger poised to strike.

Once he was sure his opponent was far away enough, Julyan took off, stumbling as he raced through the maze, trying to find at least a few moments to clear his mind, heart hammering on his chest as the throes of panic refused to leave him. 

"That's right, run! Can't hide forever."

Blair wasn't used to having the upper hand in most, if not all, battles he had ever gotten himself into. He clutched his balisong in his left hand, both his weapon and hand clean and restored. Placing one hand along the wall of the maze and the other, ready for attack, Blair began the search for his opponent. 

It was curious how seemingly easy it was last time--and now this time--for Blair to pursue his opponent, he thought. It was almost like no one else wanted to be here either, and for a moment, the thought of reconciliation with his enemy against M crossed his mind, but was quickly interrupted by the guttural growls from behind the adjacent wall. 

Blair peered around the stone wall at a robot scorpion about the size of a large dog. In the nick of time, he dodged an electrical attack and resumed plastering against the safe side of the wall. A close call. 

There was no other way around it. Continuing straight ahead would result in a dead end. It was now or never. 

Blair recalled the safety procedures from his first day of Robotics 101. Rubber-like material acts as an insulation to electricity! He decided to run full throttle at the scorpion, which bared its claws in blue electric anticipation. Then he went in with a roundhouse kick, knocking both his croc and the claw into a side wall. 

"How do you like that, you bastard?" 

He hurried to pick up his shoe and new-found weapon. Now, Blair had no clue how to use this claw thing that doubled as a taser and a laser gun (which he endearingly called a tlaser), but aimed it at his mini-opponent, nonetheless. It must have weighed at least four babies, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. 

The scorpion from across the enclosure crawled its way closer, snapping its remaining claw at Blair, clearly looking to make things even. 

"Come on, do something!" He shook the claw, as one does when trying to get the last good piece of meat out from a crab's claw, "Piece of shit..." 

As if on command, a blinding beam fired from the disembodied claw, melting a hole straight through the scorpion's head. The recoil was enough to smack him shitless against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. That would take some getting used to. Blair’s eyes widened at the reality of owning a BFG (big fucking gun), and he clutched on to it as if his life depended on it (which, I mean, it did).

The scorpion squirmed from its last few bursts of energy for a couple more seconds, then stilled.

It wasn't like he wanted to do this. To be forced to kill more strangers, that is. He didn't take the idea of being another person's pawn--in this case, M's--too lightly. If he had it his way, no one would be killed except for that M guy. But it wasn't up to Blair what could be done. He was just as powerless as he was against the government back at home. 

Blair reasoned that since both he and Julyan were murderers since they had made it this far, that it probably wasn't worth mulling over ethics. Besides, the sooner he got to uncovering the mysterious M and his lackeys, the sooner he could get out of here and resume his mission. 

He began to wonder where the real Elijah was, since he had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination in the last round. Nothing and no one was to be trusted. 

Blair was going to proceed to the next round and the next round and however long it took until he got his ass out of this nightmare. Not just for his own sanity, but for Elijah’s, as well. Getting revenge for the person he cared for most severely outweighed the numerous bloodbaths it'd take to get there. He had somehow gotten himself into this mess and he knew there was no one helping him out of this. So, Blair proceeded deeper into the winding maze to seek out his worthy opponent. 

Julyan scrambled as he made yet another sharp turn, his boots sliding on the smooth concrete floor of the maze. He looked over his shoulder once more, at least his opponent was long behind him. Stumbling behind a particularly sturdy wall, Julyan let himself fall to his knees, back pressed against the coarse wall for support as he slid to the floor. Gasping for breath, Julyan placed one hand over his chest, clawing at the fabric of his linen shirt as if it might give him a semblance of a grasp on reality. Gods, he felt as if his heart wanted to beat out of his chest, and the screams from the illusion still echoed in his mind, haunting him. He really wanted to vomit right now, but could not find it in himself to pull away from the wall supporting his back. 

Okay, okay. Breathe. Julyan told himself, shakily as he stifled what he thought was another sob. You need to do this. Gods. Okay, what do I know right now? I am still in the arena. But it’s a maze now. That means that … what I saw it’s… not real. It’s not real, Julyan, get that? Not real. This is just like another nightmare, you had plenty of those before. Stop crying. Stop. O-okay. What else? There’s someone chasing me. Yes. He taunted me. He has a knife. Okay, not so bad, okay, I can… work with this.

Julyan thought’s were frantic, but at least he knew what to do. Somewhat. That’s a start. He tried to focus on just breathing, as his hands slowly stopped their desperate shaking.

As his mind became clearer, another thought - no a memory, he realized - resurfaced in his mind. A recent one, words spoken with a voice that was not his, but his opponent’s.

"Crying isn't gonna bring your friend back from death, you know." 

"You won't be able to save her in time if you die and M gets to her first."

The words replayed over and over in the back of his mind, and the more Julyan thought about them, the more they seemed to fill him with rage. As his mind became ever clearer, Julyan could not help the mix of disgust and fury that seemed to now fuel him, a desire to defeat his opponent rising in his chest, replacing the terror completely. This person tried to use his fears against him. Well, they messed with the wrong guy. Julyan slowly brought himself to his feet, no longer unsteady, clutching his runic dagger in one hand, as he closed the other in a fist, markings glowing bright red, like molten iron, as his grasp over his powers returned tenfold. 

As Julyan turned around, another sound echoed behind him. A howl. A strange howl. Quickly, despite how blood-chilling the sound was, Julyan waste no time in moving, trying to find the corridor where the sound came from, instead of waiting it to come to him. The howls grew louder the more he walked, closer, and Julyan followed them deeper into the maze, until, eventually, he saw it. Or well, a glimpse of it. 

It looked like some sort of bull, but had all the long six legs of a spider. As if my day could not get any worse. Julyan could feel it had noticed him, as the monster stopped in its tracks, head tilted. Listening. It’s legs clacked on the stone floor, echoing like hooves as it skittered around, despite it’s abnormal size.

Just get close enough already! Julyan wanted to scream, his nerves getting the better of him, but managed to calm down. The monster was clumsy, he could see that from the way the creature struggled to maneuver itself on the tight hallway. That gives him more advantage. He waited. 

And just when the monster managed to fully turn itself around, he striked. A beam of sunfire filled the corridor, charring the monster’s closest legs, causing it to make a terrible screech, but it did not cause it to stop. 

The monster bellowed, focusing it’s blazing eyes onto him as it’s nostrils flared, furious, like a charging ox. Julyan knew that sight all to well. 

“Uh…” He made to go back to the other corridor, but as if on cue, all the doors behind and around him slid closed with a clank. The only remaining door stood behind the furious spider-ox now aiming at him. The only way out is through. 

“Fucking hells, fine!”

The monster charged, footfalls echoing on the long hallway. Julyan stepped backwards, until his back hit the wall. The spell, I need a spell, what’s the name… Gods dammnit, yeah, Intangible Transportation. At the last moment, before the monster could smash him through its horns, Julyan cast the spell, and appeared on the other side of the corridor, the monster passing harmlessly through him and slamming its horns on the wall. 

It was momentarily disoriented, and Julyan did not waste a second to use that opportunity. Focusing, Julyan’s hands were engulfed in glowing red flames, and he cast two large bolts of fire on either side of the monster. It would take a lot to disintegrate such a large creature, so taking out both sets of legs should do the trick. It was swift, and Julyan was quick to walk around it, swiftly finishing the killing blow - plunging the dagger onto the beast’s heart, and twisting. It went blissfully limp, and Julyan pulled out the weapon, stunned as if breaking free from a trance.

For a moment, he paused, looking around in horror. At what he’d done. The walls around him were charred like coal, but that did not compare in the slightest to the mangled, charred corpse of this creature. This living creature which he had killed. With no remorse. Like an Imperial soldier would.

What did I do?!

There was so much blood, and the smell… Oh Gods the smell. It hit him like a ton of bricks, the scent of melted flesh burnt to a crisp. Julyan scrambled away, tripping in one of the beast’s severed legs and falling over it with a sickening crunch, as the charred remains dissolved into nothing but floating pieces of coal. The smell of burnt skin hit him tenfold, now that he had fallen upon it. 

Before he realized what he was doing, Julyan rolled onto his side, facing away from the sight and the godforsaken smell, bile rising to his throat. And puked. 

Chest heaving, there was little in his stomach that could be thrown up - he hadn’t eaten in a while, even before being brought here - and that absence only made this feel worse. It hurt a lot. When there was nothing more, he coughed, trying to catch his breath as he scrambled to his feet once more, walking away from the charred corpse behind him. 

Wiping away some unbidden tears, he spared the dead creature one last glance, once he was far away enough that the burnt smell wouldn’t just make him sick again. Taking in the damage he was forced to cause, Julyan felt a sense of rage overpower his sorrow, stronger than before. 

This wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t forced to fight in this arena. This wouldn’t have happened if his opponent didn’t taunt him during a moment of panic. 

This wasn’t himself, Julyan knew it. He hoped. He would never kill another creature like this. His mind wandered to his previous opponent from the prior fight. She hadn’t meant to harm him, not truly, and yet he was forced to kill her. And now he was forced to kill again.

Julyan seethed.

His anger twisted and turned, as he headed towards the only remaining open door in this hallway, dagger held tightly in his hand, Julyan walked out of the corridor and into the next room. It looked like a small arena. Good, this means his opponent might be near, this means he can end this quickly. 

Blair wandered into a large clearing, probably another corner of the maze. It was there he caught the glance of his opponent from just a few feet away. 

"You!" Blair had gone from dragging the pincer on the rocky ground to pointing it at Julyan. 

Now that he had gotten a better look, he noticed how tall Julyan really was. He had strawberry blond hair tied up in a ponytail, a ruffled white shirt, a fancy overcoat, and boots. Honestly pretty intimidating, but Blair was used to having a taller opponent by now. 

A pirate? Blair thought. 

Well, that didn't matter. Cosplay or not, he was going to win this match. He planted both feet firmly on the ground. This will end here, once and for all. Blair smacked the side of the BFG, charging its laser up. It would only take a single shot to annihilate his opponent, but he also wasn’t exactly sure how much juice was left. This could be his final shot. 

“I’m tired of you running. Let’s finally finish this so, in a way, both of us can get out of here,” Blair chuckled. But Julyan wasn’t laughing. Blair wondered if he was good at parties. 

"You're rather insistent, aren't you? Just back off already!" Julyan told Blair, a twinge of impatience to his usually collected voice. This was his last warning. His opponent had better heed it. 

"Look, I'd like to, but then that'd mean you'd win the match. And I didn't endure that acid trip nightmare for nothing." 

Julyan dodged Blair’s poor attempt at jabbing him with the sizzling metal prongs. The metal whirred past his head, just barely scraping his shoulder. Julyan saw the strange contraption, then the meager cut it had managed to cause, which barely hurt, then looked back up at his fuming opponent. It took all he had not to burst out laughing.

"Well aren't you a brutish one?"Julyan gave a twisty smirk filled with vitriol. "Your tactics are rather senseless, don't you think? Oh yeah, of course, you don't think, at all."

"Did you just call me stupid?" 

“Maybe.” Julyan chuckled, a dangerous, victoriously angry sound, filled with hatred as seamlessly sidestepped one of Blair’s hits. “Wow, I’m honestly surprised you realized that by yourself.”

“People like you deserve no remorse.” A spark in Blair’s eyes. Was it a glint? Probably just from the claw that resumed its humming and zappy duties. 

It didn't take much to rile Blair up especially given the circumstances. He focused more intently on his target. But it was difficult when all he could see was red. It fueled him to keep going despite the hole he had dug for himself. There was no backing out now, the only way now was up. He had to win this at any cost. 

Blair tried repositioning the laser the more Julyan danced about with his attacks, to which Blair found more irritating than anything. It was no easy task to dodge while holding a large weapon. The more he used it as a shield, the more it degraded, so Blair had a single chance to get things just right before…

A wall of fire shot right past him burning the side of his arm before Blair barely had time to dodge. In front of him, Julyan stalked closer, golden eyes burning hotter than the flames at his hands. 

“Who’s running now?” Julyan questioned, rhetorically, tilting his head as he watched a beam of his fire shoot outwards towards his opponent, who dodged in the last second, leaving a pit of melted ground where he’d just been standing. Julyan scoffed, walking closer, his flames burning white hot in his hands. He laughed, bordering on hysterics, feeling manic after all he just went through - his voice was sickeningly sweet, provoking, though it slowly derailed into rage as he finished his sentence “Weren’t you the guy taunting me when I couldn’t fight back? Well now I can. Step up to the challenge, you bastard!”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. I said what I said,” Blair spat out a bloody tooth for no discernible reason. Maybe to assert dominance in his culture…? Not even M knew. 

Julyan shot another blast of sunfire, cornering Blair as the other tried to run back into the maze. For a moment, Julyan watched his opponent dodge flame after flame, as he made the burning spiral chase Blair no matter how far he tried to run. For a moment he wondered how on earth that man had the energy to dodge his attacks while carrying such a large scorpion claw. Until he could see his opponent becoming weary. Good, now that guy can’t taunt anyone. 

Lifting both his hands up he cast a wall of fire just as tall as him, and threw it towards Blair, who barely had time to run, rolling away - a faint singed smell seemed to permeate the maze, but Julyan forced himself to ignore it, momentarily losing focus on his flames, with shoot out haphazardly before he controlled them again. Not now, I can’t get sick again, not now. 

“You singed my hair off, you bastard!” Blair panted, hand against the wall for support. “Do you have any idea how long it took to grow that out?”

His opponent was insistent, Julyan had to give him that. It was difficult to pin down and hit this guy, he was fast, but Julyan’s anger more than compensated for that. At this point, he didn’t have to aim. Walls of fire were enough to trap Blair in every direction. And his opponent slowly realized it. Slow and steady, but with a brutality he usually found appalling, Julyan was breaking his opponent down. Now it was a matter of time. 

His power’s instability, however, seemed to grow the more angry he got. Which was, right now, a problem. Julyan was starting to feel dizzy again, like he’d been thrown into a pot of boiling water or a fiery lava field, but he forced himself to ignore the growing ache or how numb his fingers were getting. Winning was more important today.

Reality began sinking in like quick sand, Blair squirming in response. 

He dodged another attack, which grazed past his ear. In a single hit, he too, could be dead. And he could tell Julyan wasn’t going easy on him. This wasn’t like the last round at all. Burning hatred glinted in Julyan’s eyes, a look that Blair had only ever seen one other time. 

If he failed to survive this round, he would never have the chance to tell Elijah goodbye. Well, at least he wouldn’t be here to see me die, Blair thought to himself. This isn’t any of his business, and maybe it’s for the best I stay out of his hair. Maybe I deserve this. I am no better than Julyan and definitely not deserving of a happy ending. 

Blair’s vision was overcome with tears. Blinking had no effect on the oncoming of tears in remembrance of his best friend. That’s right, he never got to tell him how he felt about him. Well, that wouldn't matter. It wasn’t like anyone could love someone like Blair. His opponent was basically doing the world a service by exterminating people like him, right? 

I just hope that whatever happens…that at least Elijah gets his happy ending. 

Julyan spun around as Blair dodged yet another one of his strikes. He couldn’t feel anything, just the fire, burning inside of him, through him. And anger. He was never this angry before. Never. He hated anger. It was sick. Julyan realized, with a momentary pang, that this ‘anger’ was actually fear. Deathly fear. He shook his head, and his thoughts dissipated in the searing burn of his sunfire, his own skin aching at the overheating of the flames as he shaped it into a fiery spear, and took aim. 

And this time, he aimed to kill. 

A sudden gust of fiery wind shot through Blair’s chest– an instant kill. He fell to his knees, then collapsed to the ground with a solid thud. Through the gaping hole in his chest, the scorpion claw that had yet to fire its target shot. Abruptly, it began cooking the lifeless body with its laser, setting it aflame. Within seconds, Blair had been reduced to a pile of ash. 

Julyan watched, with growing terror, as his opponent burnt to ash, a gaping hole seared into the young man’s chest. His rage bubbled up, mixing with all the pain, terror and grief he was forced to endure today, his flames disobeying his own commands, spiralling around him in growing distress.

Julyan stared emptily at the corpse. He just killed someone again. Julyan felt his hands reaching to pull at his long hair, fire swirling around him like a searing hurricane. And he screamed, falling brokenly to the floor as the fire around him exploded outwards, flames finally stopping as he realized what he was being forced to become. 

A monster. 

As much as he wanted to go home, as much as he needed to go home and keep his siblings safe, a treasonous part of his mind asked one dangerous question. 

What if I lose myself?

Because that, oh that, was a terrible thing. And right now, it was a reality that felt far too real to ignore.

[free-my-boy-grumbot]

“ohhh i’m so tired of love songs i wish people would write more original stuff” literally listen to lemon demon. some of his song topics include

Ronald Reagan fights his evil shadow self

Guy is trapped inside an evil arcade machine that kills people

You can do what you want to your body! dye your hair! get that tattoo! pull your teeth out! stick screws in your eyes! rip your arms off!

disgraced scientist is disgraced

I forgor 💀

Guy died and a bunch of cool haunted shit happened and it was really spooky

Please date me i’m a really nice ghost i mean normal man

I’m eating a corpse and it’s soo tasty and homoerotic come join me

ohohoho i am a Creature

well you probably know what two trucks is about

[doodle-with-alizard]

Dead man just wants some toast :(

I love this scene so much oml

[noisyghost]

just put a bandaid on it