#mind the tags and CWs please

[cruel-hiraeth]

꒰ BEAUTIFUL TORMENT ꒱ OKKOTSU YUUTA X READER

warnings ⟢ dead dove: do not eat. minors, blank blogs, and ageless blogs do not interact—i will block you! yandere. captivity. stockholm syndrome. mental unwellness. dub/noncon. pet play. omorashi + piss play. cunnilingus. butt plug mention. food mentions. afab + gn reader. pet names are: bunny, my love, baby, sweetness. reader refers to yuuta as “yuuta-sama.”

word count ⟢ 2.3k

notes ⟢ this is my (incredibly belated) birthday present to yuuta! it was a massive undertaking to write; what initially began as a tiny drabble spiraled into...well, this. please heed the warnings before reading! and if you do read, be sure to let me know what you think! mwah <3

It’s impossible to tell the time of day in a room with neither clocks nor windows—not that you need to worry your precious little head with keeping time.

Time is not your master, after all.

Your existence is split in two—not unlike that of the earth: ever rotating on its axis, kissed by sunbeams from dawn until dusk, then solemnly accepting the moon’s company. Waiting for your master’s light to cut through the shadowy pitch of night is lonely; basking in his presence during the day is suffocating. You are either with or without him, for he is the extent of your life.

There is nothing else.

Lifetimes ago, you resented him. Aimless yet headstrong, you were a feral stray to others and yourself. You spat in the face of his kindness, biting his hand with all the strength you could muster—a wilfull thing, he affectionately called you, unphased by the bloody rivulets coursing down his forearm. His was the only hand that ever deigned to feed you, but compassion was foreign to your frozen heart. It made your chest ache uncomfortably.

(He still dons the scars you gifted him; memento vivere. Sometimes, when you cling to the euphoria of being cradled as he slumbers, you lick each gnarled patch of tissue—repentant before your sins.)

While your spirit was difficult for your master to forge, he recast your body with ease. Quickly, your nerves memorized the savage shock of pain and the satisfying hum of pleasure. Even though there was a disconnect with your unyielding mind, your body was obedient when you faltered; honest when you lied; meek when you resisted. It was a steep adjustment—melting down and fitting into the mold he created for you.

But you now bear the invisible marks of his torment beautifully.

Reflecting on your past cruelty and ignorance is excruciating. While you’ve done your best to forget, memories claw at your psyche when you’re swathed in starlight, solitary and susceptible. Though you know you belong with him—at his feet or by his side, whatever he deems fit, until death do you part—your subconscious is less convinced.

Dreams are never a reprieve; they haunt you. Remnants of your hatred linger on, your shadow self gnawing on the thought of ripping him to shreds when he’s at his most vulnerable, hair falling across his closed eyes—a picture of soft, boyish innocence. It’s an exhausting ordeal, feeling as though you’re at war in your sleep, never able to relax. Once you awaken, your lungs burn. Something within you cracks open and yawns.

Do you not deserve peace?

Curled up in your bed, half-delirious and longing for daylight, your ears perk at the thump, thump, thump of footsteps descending the staircase.

You would recognize the distinct vibrations of his footfalls even if you were deaf; the reverberations resonate in your bones, thrumming from your crown to your toes. Each muffled thud sets your dormant body alight, kindling the snuffed embers in your core—Pavlov’s tinkling bell. If you had a tail, it would be twitching in anticipation. Your weary heart beats only for him.

My sun.

My sun my sun my sun.

One by one, the chain lock, deadbolt, knob lock, and padlock that keep you sheltered and secure click and clink into place. The doorknob twists as the door creaks open, gingerly shutting seconds later.

“How’s my bunny?” Yuuta’s mellow voice rings out.

Approaching you, he soaks in your huddled figure with a distressed frown. On the nightstand, he notes your empty snack plate and drained water jug.

(When he first takes you in, you outright refuse sustenance, launching a hunger strike. You fail spectacularly, of course. Yuuta pivots with finesse; he makes you taste the bitter dehumanization of being strapped down and force-fed.

Afterward—though you do eat of your own volition—you exercise what little willpower you have, pitching fits during mealtimes.

Secretly, he finds it endearing.

“It’s important that you’re healthy and strong; I want us to spend the rest of our long, happy lives together,” he implores as you eye the food suspiciously.

Fresh apple, carrot, and celery—all sliced into small, bite-sized cubes. It’s how you would prepare food for a toddler to prevent them from choking.

Indignantly, you turn your nose up at his offering, the sight of it making you nauseous. “This is rabbit food,” you spit. “And I’m not your fucking child. I don’t even want to be here.”

“You don’t mean that,” he states with finality.

Refusing to ask for the thousandth time why it has to be you sitting here in his care, you dejectedly open your mouth, allowing him to feed you a tiny piece of carrot.

As you crunch and grind the morsel into a pulp, the sweet, earthy flavor coats your tastebuds. You can’t help but wonder: What good will all these vegetables do if I never see the light of day again?)

Yuuta leans over the bedside, chilly fingertips unfurling around your neck. He slowly brings his lips to your forehead and pauses, testing your temperature—normal.

After he leans back, he speaks. “What are these tears for, my love? They hurt my heart.”

Tender lips sweep away a dewdrop that slides down your cheek; you hadn’t realized you were crying. Under his intense appraisal, you feel small. You feel fragile. You feel safe.

“I missed you, Yuuta-sama,” is all you manage to utter.

At your admission, the fingers on your neck tighten imperceptibly. His thumb strokes your jugular—featherlight. “Oh, my poor bunny,” he sighs, dropping his head to nuzzle the sensitive spot beneath your ear. “I’ve made you suffer.”

Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, you protest, “Please don’t say that, Yuuta-sama. It’s my fault…I’m too needy.”

I missed my sun.

Looking up at you from beneath a curtain of ink, he tsks, nose skating along the curve of your jaw. “No, you aren’t. You’re perfect. My precious—” you gasp when he nips at your pulse point “—most perfect love. There’s nothing I’d rather do than be with you all day every day, endlessly adoring you.”

With a pout, you mumble, “Then why don’t you?”

“You know I have to work to protect you.”

Every bit his spoiled pet, your voice wobbles. “I wish you never had to leave.”

“One day I won’t,” he soothes, dotting a kiss to your cupid’s bow. “But until then, we have to enjoy every moment we have together—right?”

“Mhmm.”

For a few breaths, you lapse into syrupy silence. Your fingers weave through the hair at his nape; his head tucks beneath your chin, his balmy exhales tethering you to the present.

When he withdraws, something like a promise glints in his eyes. Your stomach flips. “Will you allow me to help you feel better?”

Sniffling, you nod, and sit up. The blanket slips down your shoulders, revealing the swell of your breasts. While your room is always an optimal temperature, you’re warmer now that you have relished Yuuta’s sunlight—revitalized.

He sweeps a hand through your hair, and you lean into the calming pressure of his touch. His lips curl into a fond smile. “Up, bunny.”

Without hesitation, you obey, leaving the cosy nest of your bed to stand on the cold concrete. No longer wrapped in linens, your nude form is on display. Yuuta’s lapis gaze sweeps over every sliver of your flesh, ears to soles.

Once, his inspections—both visual and physical—made you cower in humiliation and bristle with anger. Now you preen, your lovely features a placid lake. But a storm stirs the glassy surface as you shuffle awkwardly, suddenly aware of how overfull your bladder is.

Seemingly omnipotent, Yuuta’s hand grazes your belly. “Do you have to pee? You had a lot of water to drink while I was away.”

You grimace. “I do, Yuuta-sama.”

“Let’s get you taken care of.”

Reaching out to grasp your hand, he leads you straight to the bathroom, a pristine pee pad already laid out on the tile. While you know what comes next, you await his orders like an obedient pet, fidgety with expectation.

He caresses your head. “Situate yourself, okay?”

Wordlessly, you drop to the floor. Embarrassment prickles your flesh as you lean back on the palms of your hands, balancing on your tiptoes, legs spread wide apart. Your hips jut out, presenting your slick, needy cunt to Yuuta. He towers above you in this position, irises an oil spill—unfathomable in their iridescent depths.

Shame leaves you in waves and lust takes its place, blurring the edges of all your senses. You look up at his handsome face through drooping eyelashes and swallow the urge to whimper; your clit throbs in wanton need. A sparkling bead of desire drips from your hole, rolling down the cleft of your ass.

Returning to your side, he kneels behind you. His gravity is reassuring. You nearly dribble when he hums, encouraging, “Go on, bunny.”

The dam bursts.

A small stream shoots out of you, experimentally, before a steady jet arcs through the air and hotly puddles on the pad. Head cottony with clouds of relief, your limbs feel heavy yet unmoored—a bee drowning in its own honey. Unbidden, a gasp escapes you, luring Yuuta’s pointer and middle fingers to your petal-soft lips. A flash of slick pink, you accept them inside with a sloppy, wet suck, diligently laving each digit.

Perhaps you could survive on the salt of his skin.

“Such a good bunny,” he coos.

You frown when his fingers pop out of your mouth, but your pathetic whine turns into a shriek as he begins to rub slippery circles on your swollen clit, your piss spraying everywhere. While your flow ebbs to a trickle, the insistent pressure on your bundle of nerves continues. A flower scorched by the sun’s rays, you wilt against Yuuta, inhaling the familiar smell of his detergent.

“Y-Yuu—tah—s…s-ama!” Buzzing like a live wire, a jolt of electricity skitters down your spine.

“Gonna cum? Let go, sweetness. Show me how pretty you are when you just let go.”

A beast of an orgasm ravages your body, tearing its way out of your lungs and core, clear liquid spurting out of you. Only the whites of your eyes are visible as you scream, hips wildly bucking. You soon crumple beneath the weight of your climax onto the sodden pad, the aftershocks tingling through your extremeties, pussy unbearably empty.

Beaming, Yuuta proceeds to suck his dripping fingers clean, his groan stoking your pride. “You did so well.”

Pulse thundering in your ears from the intensity of your high, you shudder, twisting your fists into the fabric of his slacks—an attempt to ground yourself.

“May I have a taste?” Yuuta asks sweetly, maneuvering around you before your leaden tongue can string together a response. He lies between your quivering, piss-splattered thighs, uncaring of the urine that seeps through his dress shirt and pants.

“You’re so messy, bunny,” he teases, breath curling deliciously against your heat; you warble, clenching in anticipation. “Don’t worry—I’ll clean you up.”

He fondles your pubic hair with both hands, smearing a kiss on your mons. Thumbs gliding down, he gently spreads your labia, exposing your still-aching clit. The tip of his nose grazes the delicate tissue, forcing a squeal from you. But it’s as though your reactions don’t reach him—he’s so entranced. He sniffs deeply.

“Beautiful…” he whispers, ardent as a prayer.

Unhurried, he licks a searing stripe from your ass to your tender bud. The sound you make is premature—guttural and half-formed, a hideous thing. But it’s Yuuta’s favorite hymn.

After repeating the silken motion until he has thoroughly savored the tang of your cunt, he settles in and laves at your drooling hole, lapping up your juices. Never keen on making you suffer, though, he soon kisses his way up to where you need him most, bumping his nose against your clit before latching on with a firm suck.

The simmering warmth in both your bladder and your womb rekindle into roaring flames, the smoke signaling your inevitable climax. You thrash and wail and yank at Yuuta’s hair, speech reduced to nonsensical babbles as he switches between suckling your clit and tugging your folds. In a final act of torment, he slides two lithe digits inside you, crooking them upward, plucking the pleasure from your innermost place.

“G—otta, n-nngh…go,” is all the warning you manage before you crest.

You piss again, hurtling right into your second orgasm. Yuuta suctions his mouth to your sex, greedily guzzling the mixture of fluids—cum, slick, and urine—until you’re dry. As he parts from your pussy, a silvery thread still connects you; it pulls taut, then snaps. Yuuta’s smile and praise lulls you to sleep.

The sun is smiling at me.

It takes nearly half an hour for you to regain consciousness.

Ever efficient, Yuuta cleans the bathroom and washes you both before you rouse. When you wake, your limbs are entwined with his, face buried in his strong chest. Despite feeling physically and emotionally drained, you purr, bathing in his attention.

“There’s my bunny. Will you sit up for me?” Without waiting for you to move, he pulls you onto his lap so that you face him; you try to ignore the way his bare cock rubs against you. “We need to get you hydrated—yeah, that’s it, baby. Drink it all. Good, good.” He holds the glass for you as you chug its contents, stray droplets dribbling down your chin. Keen on pleasing him, you finish it without complaint, ignoring your stomach’s protests. “Perfect.”

He wipes the excess water away, a mother tidying her child. No longer able to neglect the hardening length against your ass, you rock your hips, pulling an airy laugh from Yuuta.

“So greedy,” he murmurs, massaging the fat of your thighs. “Does my bunny need their tail?”

Shyly, you nod, lips parting as a single fingertip grazes your tight rim.

Yuuta doesn’t need to ask for permission. You would do anything for him, even if it meant your ruin. He’s your savior—your everlasting sun; simply being in his presence is more than enough.

And if you’re bound to get burned? At least you’ll be eternally his.

[possuminnit]

whatever

[hmsdoodlin]

The Soul Beast. Coming to theaters near you.

I’ve never really made an AU before so forgive me, this is based off of Murders from Miracle Musical.

(It was supposed to be really realistic and scary but all I can draw are doodles, hence the tense song vs silly creature lol. Pretend his big and terrifying.)

Right before the 1,000th loop Soul breaks down, he watches as mindscape crumbles around him while Heart and Mind fight. Instead of the loop resetting however, he hits his limit and abstracts into some sort of monstrous beast.

Heart and Mind only realize when it’s far too late, watching on in horror as a confused and scared Soul starts to thrash around and panic like a wild animal. One of them gets hurt trying to calm him down/figure out what’s happening and all hell runs loose. Soul chases the two into the woods, aggravated and not recognizing them.

Eventually they lose him, having to pilot Whole alone. The mindscape begins to deteriorate, Heart and Mind juggling between keeping Whole alive and stable, rebuilding their relationship, and figuring out what happened to their Soul.

They don’t have a lot of time. What’s a man without his soul after all?

Beast Soul doodles, still trying to figure out his design. His head quite literally ‘splits into two’ to form a mouth. No idea where the mane came from, he’s not based off of a lion, it was just the first thing that came to mind and now I can’t get rid of it. Still a work in progress!!! He might look completely different in the future. Im drawing/writing with vibes not planning.

(Design ideas appreciated)

[nightjar-jack]

The zine part of the parasite research project! Yippee!

This gets a little dark and a little gross, I must admit. I tried not to get too edgy about it all but life was putting me thought the wringer when I made it, so I beg you forgive me as I poorly wax poetic angst and chose to focus so intensely on parasites for 14 pages <3

The rest is below the cut, and you can find the zine's partner illustrations here! :)

Zelmer, Derek A. “An evolutionary definition of parasitism.” International Journal for Parasitology 28 (1998), 1997

[idiotsonlyevent]

the first episode/chapter of dandadan has sexual assault scenes, and while nothing past that point is as intense as that first scene, sexual assault does NOT go away. on top of that, there is non-sexual nudity of teenagers, there are jokes about okarun's balls throughout the whole manga, there broadly seem to be themes/discussion of violating bodily autonomy - if those things make you uncomfortable, i suggest either bracing yourself or checking something else out

[jubileedeeznuts-posting]

what's your favorite piece of tetro fanart you've done?

ERMMMMMM if i had to pick a Favourite that ive done itd prolly be between these two personally,,,

I just Remember being really happy with them when i Finished them and they were both really Fun bc it was like shit i’d not really done before for the watari one with the skeleton and shit and i just had a Lot of fun Colouring the blue parts for the hiroaki one ykwim??? SO YEAH IG ITD BE ONE OF THESE TWO BUT I CANNOT DECIDE BETWEEN THEM bc i fear im chronically indecisive,,, THANKS FOR ASKING!!!

[hockeynoses]

Happy Halloween! (a snz fic)

Male - cold, mess!, implied future contagion

~*~

He wakes up to sinuses that are absolutely packed with congestion. He’d gone to sleep last night with a tickle in his throat and a bit of a headache, but he certainly didn’t expect to wake up to this.

His nose starts streaming the second he sits up in bed, setting off a tickle deep in his nose. Still hazy from sleep and a head that feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, he only manages to get his hand halfway to his face before erupting with a thick sneeze – “heh-nnggK’SHO!” that forces the gunk that had accumulated in his sinuses out, covering his hand in mess, the rest escaping into the air. He’s left with twin trails of clear liquid coating his upper lip as he shivers, dazed.

Leaning over to the nightstand, he thanks his past self for keeping a box of tissues stocked there as he pulls out several of them. He buries his face in the soft cotton and lets out a truly ill-sounding blow. The sound of it crackles through the air as more snot is dislodged, filling the bundle and soaking through to his hands.

He throws the ruined tissues to the floor and grabs the box, setting it next to him on the bed and pulling out fresh ones. His breath scissors in his chest before he snaps forward with a violent – “huh…ha-AHH’EEHGGSHH’IUE!” that explodes out of him.

He doesn’t dare remove the tissues from his face, groaning as he feels the wet mess of it against his skin. He gives a damp, clearing blow, strong enough to shift the pressure in his ears. He’s forced to breathe through his mouth as he crumples up the Kleenex and tosses them to the side.

I’m going to go through the whole box by noon, at this point, he thinks, flopping back onto his soft pillows. He rubs his knuckles against his itchy nose, already well on its way to becoming pink.

It fucking had to be today, he laments, allowing himself a small pity party. It’s Halloween, and he’d been planning on spending the day making treats for the party later tonight, as well as handing out candy to the trick or treaters. He’s just going to have to power through. Maybe it just seems worse because it’s still early and his body hasn’t had time to wake up yet.

As soon as he thinks it, his nostrils flare and he’s surprised by a wrenching double – “ha’GSSHH’IUE! Huh..ha’NGGSSHH’uh!” At the mercy of his own body and unable to cover in time, the viscous spray of it mists the sheets in front of him. “Ugh… oh god,” he groans, swiping at the mess on his face with his hand.

Remembering the box next to him, he pulls out a fistful of Kleenex and releases a gurgling, cold-ridden blow into the waiting tissues.

“Fugg, I don’t wadda be – heh… ha’ERRSSHH’IUE! – SNF. I don’t wadda be sigg today.” Noting the squishy pressure that still clogs his sinuses after so many clearing sneezes, he resigns himself to the fact that he most likely has come down with the cold from hell.

Yet, determined as he is, he’s not going to let it stop him from going on with his plans. He can still make the food for the party tonight, he’ll just have to be very careful about washing his hands and covering his sneezes. If he has to make them one-handed while holding a tissue to his dripping nose the whole time, then so be it.

He should be able to hide his illness enough that no one will be worried. Hopefully he’ll be able to hold it off enough so they won’t take one look at him and decide it isn’t worth the risk. Hell, the way he sounds, even just being in the same room as him might be risky enough. But he can’t let his friends down, and he doesn’t want to miss the party.

Pulling more tissues from the box, he catches a harsh, scraping – “uh…huh…ha’NNGGGSSH’ah!” into the bundle, containing all of the dense, contagious mess that his nose is constantly trying to force out of him. He gives one last marshy blow before getting up to start the day, box of tissues in hand. If he can just keep his nose under control, everything should be fine.

[tbalderdash-art-blog]

From 14/01/2025. Based on the WikiHow page for cuddling, I want to draw more like this

[tropicalcontinental]

This is so based in fact I spiraled out of these tags into an AU of an AU, crazy innit?

Here are the doodles I did based off these tags my ramblings will be below the read more lol

Okay, so in the whole AwesomeG and Zander AU (I have dubbed it the Finding Peace AU), AwesomeG and Zander both become entities/ghosts in the machine after their untimely deaths and travel through other minecraft instances to find Zander's unamed friend, beat Souler up for being an asshole, and find peace along the way.

But in the crossover AU which I shall dub uhhh Chasing Souls, AwesomeG ends up in quite the peculiar minecraft instance (its Smilerrrrrr's 💥💥💥 specifically the second world with the bigger green house)

AwesomeG kind of hangs about this kid, not really making their presence known. But, the kid seems a bit lonely. And something about the world that rubs AwesomeG the wrong way. They have taken the mantle to defend this world from anything malevolent. It sticks to them like mildew.

So they introduce themself! Through chat of course (I legit forgot Hungry can talk through chat and not just in-game text.) And AwesomeG hopes the kid doesn't freak out and log off. And while he does seem a bit put off, he replies back!

And so they kick it off! AwesomeG is always there to be by tia kid's side whenever he logs on. And while they can't meet face to face (weird ghost gore stuff happens when anyone looks at AwesomeG, and they don't want that to happen with their newest friend), they still have fun! Building together. Naming animals together. Just he and AwesomeG.

It probably escalates until their friend tells them about the wells. They're magical, kind of just like you AwesomeG!

And then it clicks. Is that what's been bugging them? The wells?

And then the water above his head becomes clear. Large, depressing droplets circling and wavering above his head. Looming. An omen.

And then AwesomeG tries to steer him away from this thing. From these wells that preys on his friend. Because friends care about each other. They defend each other, and help each other. Because that's what friends are for.

And their friend says that they don't go down the wells anymore. So it's in their favor. Everything will work out.

Then it happens. The bullies. And AwesomeG does what they do best;they haunt.

So like, the sting of betrayal is still here. Smiler still spirals, but slower in this AU. And like, AwesomeG mitigates the damage done to the world and lowkey traumatized some hooligans with their corpse but its whateverrrrrr.

And yet after everything clears, the mark on their friend had become larger. And larger, and heavier and heavier and heavier. And theres only so much a lone spector can do.

So their friend says farewell. And their friend becomes Smiler. And their friends asks them to stay like last time. That they can be together forever in the well. Now they're the same! And now they can play this game to gheir hearts content. And Smiler can even look at AwesomeG now, isn't that amazing? (Entities can perceive each other just fine I reckon.)

But AwesomeG says no. It shouldn't have come to this. And Smiler gets confused. Because weren't they friends? They are friends. But their leaving him behind. Saying no to being friends forever. What happened? What changed? Why did they change? Was it all a lie? Were they just like them?

So uh, since AwesomeG died before hearing the Call of the Well, they're able to resist it. Or perhaps it calls upon them about a peace so gentle they wouldn't have to worry about heaven. Or maybe AwesomeG's religious belief beats out false promises, idk.

So AwesomeG wanders again. Traversing these wells onto maps and empty worlds.

Until a new one opens up.

And they tell him to stop.

AwesomeG is to Chris is kinda like what Chris is to Andrew. In the whole guidance sense, not friendship. AwesomeG tries to push Chris away from the wells to prevent another Smiler, which they probably feel guilty for. But Smiler already knows.

Oh and AwesomeG meets Zander around, eh, Septmeber 2017? They travel through Gridworld now. Trying to find pieces of Zander's soul and his friend and trying to help Chris and keep Smiler at bay and.

And it's the same steps tread. And they try to stop and reach beyond the machine (if Hungry can infiltrate minds, so can AwesomeG but for good this time 💥💥💥) to get Chris on a level head but it's too much. Like last time. And they fail again, like last time.

So now it's Andrew to be the third. And AwesomeG is like a more stubborn Chris at this point, in terms of motivation at the beginning of the AG67 series. They want to keep Andrew oblivious, like full on Lethe Protocol, forget everything and never look back. And Chris of course changes throughout the series, but perhaps AwesomeG becomes a new obstacle, but like the opposite problem.

But since AwesomeG is just a kid, a very guilt ridden and scared kid in this AU, and since I drew them and Chris hugging, they reconcile :]

Oh and Zander is there chilling. And Souler gets beat up because I say so (literal random piece of off the rails AU headcanon but Souler cant claim Andrew's, Chris', or Smiler's souls because they're marked by the Call of the Well already. First come first serve or whatever)

Okay enough rambling bye bye

[elwenyere]

A Place None of Us Know (Top Gun, 4.2k)

Rating: M

Pairings (minor): Bradley/Jake, Penny/Maverick

Tags: Major Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Character Study, Bradley-Centric, Outsider POVs, Sexual Content

Summary:

Five days after burying her husband, Carole Bradshaw cries at the post office with her son clinging to her knee. ----- Or, Four Funerals and a Wedding

[hmsdoodlin]

(44) Mr. Acoustic

[starriesse]

[ID: A fifteen striped flag. The first and last four stripes all have small bumps facing inwards. The stripe colors, from top to bottom, are desaturated orange-yellow, pastel desaturated orange-yellow, desaturated orange-yellow, pastel desaturated orange-yellow, dull pink, light pink, pale pink, white, pale pink, light pink, dull pink, pastel desaturated orange-yellow, desaturated orange-yellow, pastel desaturated orange-yellow, and desaturated orange-yellow. In the center of the middle flag there is an icon of a halo with wings, while the other flags do not have said icon. End ID]

♡ ⁔⁔ IMPURANGELIC ... !!

[PT: Impurangelic. End PT]

— A gender related to impurity and angels. This gender is the feeling one may have of feeling defiled or impure, while wishing they could go back to when they were pure. This gender is also related to the song "Pure as a Lamb" by Baby Bugs, fallen angels, mourning over what could have been. It embodies mourning, melancholy, and a wish for a softer reality.

— This gender was created with trauma survivors in mind, and I would prefer if only trauma survivors use it. Despite the religious themes to it, it is not exclusive to religious trauma survivors. This term was not created to aestheticize, glamorize, or romanticize trauma; it was created for coping reasons. The use of the word "impure" is not meant to be derogatory, nor is it meant to promote or romanticize unhealthy mindsets. Once again, this is a term created by a trauma survivor to cope with feelings related to their trauma.

[neuvoid-writes]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63499840

((Tumblr is being a butt and wont load links from AO3: fic link below)):

Lovely | Welcome Home

Wah! Neuvoid's First oneshot~! I never thought I'd see the day!

A continuation of the LNY Woodsnake Exchange 2025 art i did for!

This fic is 6,666 words and i'm lowkey proud of that. 6.66k! hehe

Pairing: LiuCheng but not the one you think of (Liu Qingge/Cheng Luan) Rating: M

Summary:

"Cheng Luan felt it more than he saw it. Something was draped over his body of steel, curled over his hilt, and the scabbard that he was housed in" Or:

800 years from cannonical PIDW Cheng Luan, now a sword spirit encounters a snake - a danger noodle if you will.

It wont stop draping over him.

Author's Note: This fic has SI in it. please mind the tags below:

Tags: Major Character Death | Cheng Luan/Liu Qingge | Cheng Luan (Scum Villain) | Liu Qingge | Liu Mingyan | Shen Yuan | Shen Qingqiu | Naga!Liu Qingge | Naga | Trauma | Grief/Mourning | Temporary Character Death | Canonical Character Death | PIDW 800 years later | Hurt/Comfort | Angst | Fluff and Angst | Angst with a Happy Ending | Waiting | Snakes | Snake Liu Qingge | Liu Qingsnek | exploration of what it means to be a cultivator's sword | Sword Spirit! Cheng Luan | LiuQingge/Cheng Luan | Suicidal Ideation | An Exploration of How Characters Respond to LQG's Death | Including Cheng Luan | No Beta We Die Like Liǔ Qīnggē | Reincarnation

[cicicolorao]

If I’m not thinking about that goddamn greenbottle (<333) I’m thinking about the most beautiful woman of the Glades, the Teensy Queen. The Drag Queen of the Glades. Queenie. Listen to Copa Cabana

Also the last one goes under a read more because it’s a Pink Flamingoes reference lmao

She’s bold (and kooky) enough to reference a movie nobody watched that will definitely make her seem insane

[love-caleb]

hannah. she/her. 26.

infp. 4w5. leo ☼ scorpio ☾ pisces ↑

caleb’s lover girl

multifandom & selfshipping blog

my edits · my photobooth templates

current interests: final fantasy xiv, love & deepspace, haikyuu, fields of mistria

hunter id: 82001744870

mutuals can dm for discord

previously @ love-oikawa & notazem

[astralfist]

A friendly reminder that since it is election day her in the US, if you feel the need to post about politics, please tag your politics.

Politics is a major issue everywhere, and let's be honest, it can be a huge headache, and not everybody is comfortable with wanting to get politically involved with anything.

That is all.