#tw // decapitation mention

[galaxygermdraws]

DREW FANART FOR MY FAVORITE FIC OF ALL TIME (and spoiled it for those of you who wanna check it out)

If you DON'T know what fic this is, this is "Dynasty Decapitated" by blueticked. Their tumblr account is deactivated, and idk if they ever made a new account, so I can't properly tag them. But the fic is linked if you want to read it. You may have to zoom in for better quality also because this canvas is huge

(Reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. PLEASE go read this fic it's so good. Also! I will put a non spoilered version of this under the cut so you can see what I drew. Thankyu)

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Sun: I will cut your head off with a rusty bread knife.

[anonymouspuzzler]

I've got a question for and or about Buck. So he also goes by and is referred to as "The Invincible Bulkhead" but I was wondering if he's actually invincible, like superpower wise, or if it's just a name because he's a strong guy?

[Image ID: A black-and-white digital ink drawing of Puzz's OC Buck, a middle-aged white man with a barrel-chested build, big nose, balding hairstyle and bushy mustache, wearing a turtleneck sweater. He is standing with his hands on his hips and glaring, saying, "Wouldn't you like to know. End ID.]

Buck's not especially eager to talk through the strengths and weaknesses of His Whole Deal, but I have no such hangups! The answer's sure to get a little rambly (and also, content warning, is Talking About Ways You Could Theoretically Kill This Guy), so I'll put it under the cut.

So the long and short is basically "Buck DOES have powers, but he's not actually invincible". Buck's superpower is more along the lines of superhuman durability - he can take a lot of hits that would severely injure or kill the average person, and he bounces back from most injuries far faster. Say, for example, you slam a two-by-four into his face or something. Average person's going to have a broken nose, maybe even be concussed; Buck's gonna have a brief nosebleed and then be back at it.

The big shortcomings to this come in terms of what this power DOESN'T do. For one, it doesn't come with any kind of super strength or natural fighting abilities - he's only about as strong as you'd expect an average middle-aged man to be, and he's actually pretty dogshit at fighting hand-to-hand, both of which are why he generally relies on piloting a mech while Davey (who, despite having a civilian upbringing and no superpowers, IS a very capable hand-to-hand combatant) does most of the physical fighting.

The other big thing is that, as stated, Buck's durable rather than invincible. What this basically means is, if it's something a human body can't theoretically, physically recover from on its own, it's possible for him to die because of it. So like, if he's suffocated or drowned or otherwise can't breathe, that would kill him, because his super-durability isn't, like, generating bonus air for him. Similarly, something like decapitation would kill him, because the healing wouldn't kick in faster than the actual Death Effects. All this comes together to mean Buck's more likely to die of, like, a really bad asthma attack than he is getting the shit beaten out of him by a superhero.

[thejacketscloset]

The chokehold that the whole "I paid your girlfriend a visit this morning :3" "what did you do😨." "... I made her a snack :>" scene has on me BSBXBX. Like that was peak jinx right there

Anyways someone should do that with ghoap and like Graves or smth idk just think it would be fun if Ghost thought Soap got decapitated for a split second ^_^ might write smth small abt it later

[creppersfunpalooza]

@whumpy-wyrms hi so i finally drew some more fan art ish because i thought it’d be fun to draw our guys together and see how they’d interact

i think nothing would go wrong at all. nothing. i think they’d all get along and skip off into the sunset together.

i like just struggled with drawing the arms and u can tell 😭😭. just anton in general because i never draw hair without bangs ever so u can just see the difference but it’s almost 2:30 AM so im not going to worry about it

(dew and anton are @whumpy-wyrms’s characters from TLLR!!)

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Sapphire Heartverse! The fanfic

Part 1: Liminal Reality

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Here’s some background as to why this alternate universe is the way it is:

A very powerful stand user, one that can cause catastrophic effects on the universe, ended up altering and splicing the timelines together. This all takes place in 2022! Most of the people, villains included, have been resurrected by this power. Others are still deceased. Plenty of them have lost their memories as well, but others got to keep theirs.

Vanilla Ice wakes up in his bed with a jump. He tries to catch his breath. What the hell happened? I gave my life to Lord Dio… did I not? The last thing he remembers is decapitating himself so his sire could drink. Was that all really a dream? Vanilla feels his cheek, his face drenched in sweat and hot to the touch. The brunette is in his room, inside the mansion… everything looks the same, smells the same, but something is eerily off. Ice trembles as he stumbles to the bathroom to wash his face and look in the mirror.

I feel like I’ve been sleeping for years. Vanilla feels there is nothing he can do about this and proceeds to fall back to sleep.

The next day, while Vanilla is preparing something for Dio to enjoy, his heart skips a beat. The brunette’s spine tingles for seemingly no reason. His eyelids twitch and his hands quake to the silent beat of anxiety. There’s no way Ice is going to let this little hiccup cut into his time serving Lord Dio. Vanilla swallows hard and brings the tray of snacks to his sire.

On one knee, holding the tray of goodies for his master, Vanilla presents to him the variety of food. Dio lazily takes one and munches it. Unbeknownst to Vanilla, Dio is experiencing a plethora of emotions similar to him.

“Ice,” Dio’s low smooth voice pierces the silence, “What ails you?”

“It’s nothing, sire. Pardon my ill energy.” Vanilla apologizes.

“Hm,” Dio takes a sip of wine and contemplates, “You’re dismissed.”

“Wait, sire,” Vanilla speaks quickly. Dio turns his head, a bit startled by the urgency of Vanilla’s voice, “I must ask you… do you feel something is afoot? There’s a… fog of an invisible threat. Pardon my franticity.”

The blonde man remains silent for a while. It’s true. When I woke up this morning, I had forgotten who I was. I felt like I had been dormant for ages. He thinks of something to ease Vanilla’s tension,

“Well, as you know, the Joestars are planning an attack. They want to be rid of me. Perhaps that is what you are feeling… Mr Ice.” Dio takes another sip, “It is rather unlike you to be so anxious. You’ve got me worried. I do not want this to be a repeat offense from you.”

“Absolutely not, my lord.”

“Good. Now you are dismissed.” Dio waves his servant away. “Oh and one more thing… always remember this, Ice… you are my favorite. Hmhmhmhm…”

“Yes, sire. Very good, sire.” Vanilla feels his cheeks heat up a bit from being complimented.

Another day at the mansion. Another day… another day.

It’s time again for Vanilla Ice to go out shopping to get more supplies and food for the mansion. He gets dressed, does his hair and makeup, then grabs his purse and car keys.

“Aht aht! Cream!” Vanilla wags his finger at his stand, who is chewing a hole in one of the ottomans in the living room. Ice claps his hands and pulls the unruly stand back into his soul, “*20 years and he still doesn’t behave.” *I headcanon Vanilla to have gotten his stand at 5 years old because of the game HFTF*

Vanilla strolls outside and steps into his vehicle, cranks it, and smoothly pulls out of the driveway. It’s a beautiful day, the sky is a perfect shade of blue gently sprinkled with clouds, the temperature is nice and hot, there’s tourists looking at little square devices. Wait what? There’s a few more. And another. And another. And two more. Ice is perplexed and almost swerves into oncoming traffic out of the peculiarity.

“OH SHIT!” Vanilla spins the steering wheel out of the way just in time. The brunette’s heart races. His shoulders are up to his ears with tension and confusion. Vanilla slows down and gives some tourists a bewildered look as he squints. He sees those devices they’re all holding have little screens… like a gameboy but…

Ice drives up to his usual store, however something is off.

“What the hell?” Vanilla steps out of the vehicle and looks up at the sign. It’s different. Way different. As in, this is not the same place he went to the other day… what was the other day anyway? And yesterday? And the day before that? Ice realizes that he had been staring at the sign for far too long when people start to look at him like he’s crazy.

“U-uh… huh.” Vanilla stammers and staggers inside. It is not the same store. Everything looks horrifyingly different.

Vanilla gazes in awe at the technology and sharp yet smoothness of everything in the store.

“Whoa, dude, the 80s called. They want their hair back.” The cashier teases him. Ice gives them a bemused expression,

“What… did you just say?”

“Hey, hey, don’t take it personally. I was just messing with you, it looks good. My parents used to listen to that stuff when they were like, teenagers.” They stretch lazily.

“Listen to what? What are you talking about?” Vanilla presses the cashier for answers.

“Dude, relax! I’m sorry! They like 80s music, it’s cool.” They look at some items on the shelf.

“80s music?” Ice is frozen in place with befuddlement.

“It’s whatever, like I mean… yeah, it’s okay. I like what I like and other people like what they like it’s ok-” Vanilla slams his hands on the shelf,

“No! What the hell is going on?! Why does everything look so-” He does a double take at one of the magazines.

“Hey, hey! Calm down, sir! Do you need me to call somebody?” The cashier asks, “Sir?”

Vanilla hesitantly reaches for the magazine, his manicured fingers trembling.

“Sir? A-are you alright?” The cashier asks but to no avail.

Ice takes the magazine and gives the date a deep gaze. His heart skips a beat. The current year is not 1989. It’s 2022. Vanilla feels reality around him shift and twirl like he was on a rollercoaster.

“Mister?” The cashier tries to speak to him, “Are you alright?”

Vanilla doesn’t look at them,

“Is it really… 2022? Right now?”

“What? Uh… yeah, man. Why? You okay?” They try to calm him a bit.

“That’s impossible. There’s no way. That doesn’t make any sense. That would make me… No. How? How?” Vanilla stumbles out of the shop with the magazine.

“HEY! THOSE AREN’T FREE, YOU KNOW!” The cashier yells to him, “Ugh… That’s literally the 4th guy this week pulling that shit.”

Vanilla hurriedly makes his way back to the mansion and skids the vehicle to a grinding halt. The brunette rushes inside and barrels down the hallway and up the stairs with haste. He knocks on Dio’s bedroom door and kneels, panting, clutching the magazine in one hand as he waits for his master to allow him inside.

“Vanilla Ice… do come in.” Dio’s rich mellow voice fills Vanilla’s eardrums to much of his delight. Vanilla stands back up, takes a deep breath and opens the door with eagerness,

“Sire. We have a situation.”

To be continued…

[northsalpha-archive]

i  keep  thinking  abt  how  ansel  can  literally  decapitate  you  with  his  bare  hands,    but  has  zero  idea  how  to  use  a  microwave.

[trashbins-stuff]

If i can chop up my head i would, even i dont wanna look at my face lmao

[solaireprince]

vincent, were any of you planning to tell me that the idiot who fucked with you and your partner is a living disembodied head? is this a vampire thing? are we going to need to, like, completely destroy quinn’s head to make sure this doesn’t happen with him?

I'm sorry, he's alive?!?

Last I saw, he was a very dead disembodied head.

[eggslovemetoo]

@june-doe-event

Penny showing off her scar from getting fucking decapitated

[solairecowboy]

apparently that adam guy is alive, but he’s a disembodied head? so i think we should take that into account if we end up needing to take quinn down ourselves.

Got it; decapitation's off the table. Or if we do, leave the head in sunlight afterward.

[agavegator]

the update hatched a brilliant idea for me

[magentamedicines]

Magentamedicines (Pt.20)

-------------------------

The headache Tori had earned from the previous night's hell hadn't subsided that morning, but at least it wasn't anything she hadn't already been used to- after all, vision migraines were enough preparation.

But this. . . this had to be different- this was something she could feel  in her core, like stones piling themselves up until everything inside her body had been replaced.

"What if. . . what if we can't- save them. . ." she'd been resting her head on Michael's chest, legs sprawled over Jeremy's as if the two were some sort of makeshift lounge chair.

Michael, a man of many facial expressions that could be summed up with the words 'dead eyes', didn't seem to be paying attention. Of course Tori knew better, it wasn't that he wasn't paying attention, his attention was just being directed at taking his mind away from his past.

"I'll drop Cori off at school, see you in a bit," Tori said with a sigh, casting a knowing glance in Jeremy's direction before sliding off the couch and making her way to Cori's room.

"Ready for school rosebud?" Tori said, knocking on the door to the girl's room a few times for good measure.

"Almost ma'am!" came the answer from behind the door. There was a reckless pounding sound that no doubt meant shoes being thrown in all direction, before a flurry of stomping, then silence, then the door opening to reveal the little girl.

Of course, Tori supposed ten was hardly considered little by her standards, but as far as the goth was concerned, it was hardly a good age to learn about the mission she Mike and Jeremy had been carrying out.

Secrets were difficult to keep from Cori, she knew how to force them out of people, no doubt something William would have wanted her to use for his own gain. It was sickening, the thought of all the things that girl had gone through before her father had been arrested.

She had strange ideas of what counted as bonding, buying new chokers to cover both her and Tori's own discolored skin from William's attempts on their lives. Cori was still certain she'd merely been choked to death- but Tori knew that wouldn't have left such a fine ring around her neck. Of course, there was no easy way to tell a ten year old she was probably beheaded as a child, so- she supposed that would have to be a revelation for another day.

"She do any better on the drive today? Jeremy says she's been getting more antsy with questions about work," Michael said as Tori shut the front door behind her and made her way up to the dining room.

"Same questions she always asks me, about new chokers and if we think that son a bitch is still locked up." Tori said, there was a snarl to her words on the last line, but then, there always was when she was talking about William. Her favorite way to refer to him was 'that self-righteous British asshole ', but 'son of a bitch' was a close second.

"I wish we could figure out where he is- he has access to phone lines and everything and yet there's no sign of him- and that 'Dave Miller' guy Cori keeps mentioning doesn't seem to be at the pizzeria when we show up." Mike said with a sigh, running his hands through his hair.

"Yeah. . . we'll figure it out soon love, I'm sure." Tori said, draping her arms over his shoulders and resting her head on his.

Soon enough the two of them had their work uniforms on, saying their goodbyes to Jeremy before beginning the melancholy drive to Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental.

"Casual. . . bongos? That wasn't even an op- hey you can't just dock our pay at random!" Tori folded her arms, rolling her eyes as HandUnit continued to explain what, in her eyes, constituted some kind of worker's rights violation. Of course given the working conditions of these places, the lack of consideration really shouldn't have been surprising.

"Yeah ok. Dock our paychecks and then make us do work we aren't qualified for nor signed up to perform- like that makes any sense." the digitized voice giving the two instructions was, frankly, starting to grate on Tori's nerves. It didn't help that sometimes she couldn't tell whether it was prerecorded or not.

"You doing ok turtledove? You've been really irritable since. . . oh. . ." Michael wrapped a hand around hers as Tori averted her eyes, blinking back tears. "It's about Millie, isn't it. . ." Michael said, Tori just nodded and made her way to Circus Baby's room.

"Thought we weren't going here tonight?" Michael said quizzically as he climbed in after her.

"I don't trust that thing, I'm going to check it out just in case," Tori said.

They stood in the room for a few seconds, then crawled back under the desk. Michael sucked in a breath as the sound of the intercom echoed in the room, followed by that same female voice they'd heard the other night.

Did you know that I was on stage once? It wasn't for very long.. only one day. What a wonderful day, though. I was in a small room with balloons and a few tables. No-one sat at the tables though, but children would run in and out.

Tori's face formed into an inquiring scowl, as if she were thinking of something, Michael only seemed capable of listening slack-jawed and in awe, as if he wasn't quite absorbing the words on the same level.

Some were afraid of me, others enjoyed my songs. Music was always coming from somewhere else... down a hall.

"Ballora Gallery. . . there was always music to accompany her performances. . ." Tori muttered, Michael nodded, the reassurance she needed that he was at least somewhat present.

I would always count the children, I'm not sure why. I was always acutely aware of how many there were in the room with me. Two, then three, then two, then three, then four, then two, then none.

That was the moment Michael seemed to react the most, his eyes widening, pupils shrinking to near pin-pricks as he looked toward the intercom. Tori could hear him whispering something, it sounded almost like 'fifteenth birthday'.

They usually played together in groups of two or three. I was covered in glitter. I smelled like birthday cake. There were two, then three, then five, then four. I can do something special, did you know that? I can make ice cream - although I only did it once. . . There were four, then three, then two, then one.

"Elizabeth. . ." was a word more clearly stated, and her own understanding seemed to broaden after that. Counting children had already seemed like an odd feature for an animatronic to have, but the recollection that this was a creature built by William Afton made the puzzle pieces all to easy to place.

Something happened when there was one. A little girl, standing by herself. I was no longer... myself. And I stopped singing. My stomach opened, and there was ice cream. I couldn't move, at least, not until she stepped closer. There was screaming for a moment... but only for a moment. Then other children rushed in again, but they couldn't hear her over the sounds of their own excitement. I still hear her sometimes. Why did that happen?

The last line was different, spoken as if by someone not quite dead, and not quite alive either.

Tori came to her senses at the sound of sniffling next to her, Michael was crying, she'd hardly ever seen him do that.

"Mike. . . love it'll be ok, we'll get her out, I promise, I swear it. . . he'll pay for what he let that thing do to her, stay with me ok? Stay with me, we'll get through the rest of the night and plan it out when we get home, we can watch the new episode of The Immortal and The Restless ok? I love you. . ." she placed a kiss on his forehead for good measure. Michael paused for a moment, blinking a few times, before his expression returned to a default blank one, he nodded, helping her out from under the desk, and making his way toward Funtime Auditorium.

[actual-shintaro]

redraw of my first granblue fantasy fanart. happy 10th anniversary.

[thejacketscloset]

Mission went to shit so quickly, things they never could've accounted for happened, and now Ghost is captured and the 141 is in the wind.

Graves had been alive, somehow survived the attack on the tank, and he had hit them hard. His rage had been vibrant, and he was clear in his targeting attacks towards Soap. In Ghost's concern he had been blind to see how it was all a trap.

Now, Ghost had been captured for a few days. He was unsure how much time exactly had passed, only getting occasional visits from the shadows and Graves.

After what Ghost guessed was the fourth day, the shadows moved him to a new room. His head had been covered by a bag, and the barrel of a gun was pressed to his head the entire walk before he was roughly shoved into a metal seat. The gun remained until all the binds on his arms, legs, and chest were fastened. Then, finally, the gun was removed and the bag was pulled off of his head.

Ghost was sat in a blank room, a dim overhead light revealed a table set with plates at each of the three empty seats around it. At the very back of the room, Ghost could see Graves trying to blend into the shadows.

"The fuck is this supposed to be?" He growled out to his captor, only confused by the set up in front of him.

"Divine intervention." Graves says, speaking so casually as he steps into the light. Ghost hates him, he scowls with the need to wipe the smug look off his face.

"Enlighten me then."

Graves grins something sadistic. He turns and grabs something off the side, beginning to bring it to the table.

"I payed your Sargent a little visit this morning." He says, still grinning at Ghost with a look that looks almost manic. He's back in the light now, and Ghost can see what he's carrying.

A dish cover of some sort.

Ghost stomach drops, mind racing with all the implications of what Graves said while holding it. Images flash through his mind, ones of his Johnny's head sitting on that plate. Pale and lifeless, everything that he knows Johnny isn't. Has never been.

"What did you do?" Fear slips into his tone. Graves grins wider.

"I made him a snack."

The plate cover is placed on the table, in seconds Graves goes to pick it up and reveal Ghost's worst fears. A scream rips out into the room, and Ghost realizes, horrified, it's his own voice. He screams "NO" as the plate cover comes off, screws his eyes shut to avoid facing down the worst case scenario.

The room is silent for a few seconds, and then Graves honest to God starts giggling. Ghost feels sick.

He pries his eyes open, and they fall upon the... bomb??

Not Soap's head, thank god, but and honest to god timed explosive. A ragged releived breath rips itself from Ghost's chest. He hadn't even realized he had been holding his breath.

"Jeez, I'm not that crazy. Don't worry though, I made sure to invite him for this dinner."

Right as Graves spoke, the door to the room is opened and Soap is dragged in the same way Ghost had been.

Ghost's mind spins, he's dizzy with the relief of seeing Soap. He's breathing and so alive.

The bag is ripped off his head and Ghost studies every inch of every feature. Soap looks mildly scratched up, and a little dazed, but so very alive. Ghost's stomach flips with emotion, he almost lets out another sob of relief.

Soaps eyes finally land on Ghost's, and in spite of the millions of fucked up things happening to them in that moment, he smiles so warmly.

Distantly, he registers Graves saying something that sounds snarky, him leaving the room, locking them in here. And the beeping of the timer in front of him continues on, and God he should be so worried about that right now but he isn't. He can't pull his eyes away from Johnny's.

Yeah. We'll be okay. Is all Ghost can think as he holds his gaze.

[invisiblegarabgetruck]

💣🗡️ [CW : decapitated]

he's fine ( ^_^)