#tw mild gore mention

[calliope-splitintwo]

~ How do you think Nyx reacted when she saw their child, dead at the floor of their abode, head bashed in till it was unrecognizable? Do you think her reaction was any different because she’s the embodiment of the night? All of Olympus shook, nearly broke, with her cries and her wails. Erebus rushed to her side, scooping the (in comparison to the two of them) small body into his arms. They did not have Hermes announce it to all the gods like with Persephone’s death. But Olympus still knew. The mortals did not notice, but the gods did. The nymphs and the minor deities and the muses and the Olympians, all of them noticed the cracks in the night sky that have been ever growing since Apate’s death. How much longer can she go with watching her child’s murderer take stand where she once stood? Erebus sits by her side now, letting them cry into his chest. Calliope’s ichor stains the floor of the manor. ~

My daughter.. my daughter.. my daughter.

~ Erebus runs his fingers through Nyx’s dark hair, strung with stars. He kisses her forehead and hugs her, tears flowing from his eyes as well. It was his daughter he lost as well. Truthfully, he had always been less involved in the children’s life. Less humanoid then Nyx, more darkness then complete form. But still, he mourned with them. He would make all of Olympus mourn with them, just for his lover. But for now all he could do was try and soothe her. But a mother’s grief is incomprehensible in the end. ~

[sociieties]

yannik / stylianos + death scene, jjkai verse. ( for jjkai revs, flip the names. )

this explanation is ripped out of one of my rps, copy and pasted with and without full context

there’s blood everywhere, spilling from mouth, lips, face, arms, from his torso. his torso’s the worst, cut deep, open from blade. there’s blood coming from back, too and that’s how stylianos died; killed from a deep stab to the back just to add insult to all the other injuries. ( too many severed heart strings, spilled blood from too many places, innards falling out of open wounds. the heart bleed was the worst of all. stylianos could have lived had be been rushed to a hospital. ) there’s dirt in his hair. yannik remembers stylianos smiling as he died in their arms. this curse does not smile. this curse is not stylianos, but a crass mimicry of him. this is insulting.

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts. 

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men - Masterpost

AO3

[Links will be updated as new parts are added!]

-

SUMMARY:

The League of Assassins has a secret. Deep within the sprawling city of Eth Alth'eban, the Well of Sins was watched over by Ra's al Ghul. See, while the Lazarus Pits could grant him immortality and bring people back from the dead, the Well of Sins was also more than that. It was a portal to another dimension. Ra's had held this information close to his chest for centuries, determined to take full advantage of this power and keep it for himself. He managed to successfully placate and deal with many demons and spirits that slunk out of the portal until now, so why should now be any different-

Oh. That was a dead boy at his feet.

Perhaps he should let Talia know she has a new son?

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Chapter 1 - #355E3B

Chapter 2 - #78866B

Chapter 3 - #228B22

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Concept designs - Jazz, Dani, Sam, and Tucker

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Timeline from part 2! The full explanation can be found there.

[fungus-no69]

hope lovecraft is rolling in his grave as I write this. I hope more people write about eldritch horrors being gay and shit. lovecraftian gay sex… (i do not write smut)

Context: it is a beautiful day in rapechestershire and you are a horrible monstrosity

Content: Body horror I guess, reader is a little petty (deserved), dol typical bullying, brief and non graphic gore in Kylar’s, mentioned animal death in Remy’s (you are Eating The Cows), some spoilers for Ivory Wraith’s lore

Remembering to oxidise your body is a burden, making your heart beat is a chore, remembering to move the rest of your vessel with your expressions is tiring. What do animals even need these rigid pieces of flesh for?

…though you quickly realised the value of muscles when your meat began to droop around your faux bones which is something you’re fairly certain does not happen to mortals.

Of course, you can’t maintain a full rest while above water in this fashion. You’ve come to learn that humans do not particularly enjoy a mass of greasy limbs, mottled flesh and gunky mucus spread on the floor. 'Sleeping' is nice though, as limited as your opportunities are. Humans are fickle creatures and that also applies to their sleeping habits.

Nonetheless. You need to practise your human-form-making skills. And what better way to learn about appearing more human than to attend the industry of learning itself?

Whitney:

Why this blonde mortal took an interest in you? You're not sure.

One day they were there and they never left

They’re always poking at your vessel. Rude…

Thanks to them and their lackeys you had to learn how to fake falling over when punched because apparently it’s strange to just stand there and take a hit without flinching.

They know somethings wrong with you but they can’t put their finger on it, this leads to even more bullying

Most of their harassment is about how you look and act apart from the straight up sexual assault.

They once saw you slip up on your transformation because it was a particularly irritating day and you briefly reintroduced your habit of scaring off others by posturing.

Not your finest moment, I say. They passed out because your mutilated structure was too much for their poor human mind to handle.

Thankfully you can help them forget the incident or write it off as some weird drug induced hallucination. (by distracting them with something inconvenient when they wake up. Like an ice cube in their mouth. Or a cut to their gums.)

You can’t let something like that happen again

Sydney:

You don't know why they're looking at you weirdly. You have the correct amount of teeth this time. You checked.

They help you out when people ask you stupid questions like 'are you a ventriloquist?' 'how can you bend that far?' and 'hey where'd your elbows go?'

It’s always awkward to dismiss yourself during those encounters, considering your ‘schoolmates’ don’t tend to let things go and are rather fixated on following their more malicious instincts towards you than letting you leave. So Sydney’s help is appreciated.

You leave little gifts for them in the library. A book you found in the lake and dried, the foot of a rabbit (humans find that lucky right?), little shiny objects you discover while walking around.

You’re far from weak or incapable but Sydney’s interventions make keeping up the act more bearable.

Over time they find that they become enamoured with you and that’s terrifying to them. One, because they’ve never felt like this before and two, Jordan seems to disapprove of you in some way? They don’t explain why but they warn Sydney about you. Which raises some issues which you don't completely understand for all of your infinite (old) wisdom.

As they become more corrupted, they get a bit more pushy with their ‘subtle’ questions about you- thankfully they never nag for too long.

You fear that Sydney, loyal and kind Sydney, will leave you when they find your true nature. That they will find you repulsive like many before them.

Thus, you will hide your true nature from them. No matter how often they ask or the fact that they know something is off- you can never let them confirm those suspicions.

Kylar:

You see the way the shadows loom over this mortal- they are more connected to the other worlds than they realise.

This draws you to them in a way, having someone who is more connected to your home than everyone around you. And them to you, though you suspect this may have happened regardless of your identity.

Kylar is another anomaly in a sea of others who look different but are fundamentally indiscernible. If you were to cut open a human and pry open their ribcage, you would find the same thing in each one. But not yours. And perhaps not Kylar’s.

They seem to feel a strange compulsion to protect you. You’ve seen this type of behaviour with Sydney and maybe Whitney to an extent, but never to the intensity that a knife was procured.

You understand that the utensil is sharp but you're a little bit confused to why the students run away when they see it? Stabbing someone requires strength and you're fairly certain Kylar is not very strong.

Surprisingly, they were the first one to ask about why you speak the way you do. When asked what they meant they told you that you speak in a very formal manner. Your expression must have made a change in some way because they quickly apologise profusely for offending you. It doesn't.

If you sulk about it a little then that's nobody's business other than your own.

Harper:

You get sent to the asylum for your silly behaviour (crimes and general strangeness that does not pass for mentally healthy) and Harper tries to gaslight you "there are no tentacles they aren't real" explain this.

You don’t have a firm grasp on human behaviour yet, especially when it comes to being polite but c'mon. Even you know this guy is a weirdo.

They will inevitably learn about your true nature regardless of how hard you conceal it.

Hypnotism doesn’t work on you, your blood is too dark and thin to resemble a human’s, sometimes you forget to make your heart beat etc.

They’re not as freaked out as you thought they’d be but they do want to run some tests on you

You say no thank you because even if it’s just for ‘personal research’ you don’t want your inhumanity on record (and Harper’s a creep)

They attempt to blackmail you in a sense but you stand strong on your opinion. Who would they tell and even then, who would believe them? And then there’s the fact that there is no human nor invention that can contain or incapacitate you.

You may meet them on your vacation to Remy’s farm, they’re initially confused to see you there but just as easily accept it. As much as they want to understand you- you’re not exactly human, so they don’t expect you to act by the rules of humans.

It would almost be nice if they didn’t finish their little spiel by dragging you to a stage. Stares make your epidermis feel like there’s little bugs underneath it and you feel the urge to peel it off to escape the unpleasant sensation. You don’t, because that would reveal you.

You end your holiday by trashing their office.

Remy:

You originally came across their farm because you were hungry. Remy, of course, noticed the dwindling population of their cows and went to investigate. Lo and behold- they found you.

They don’t know for sure if you’re involved in the missing cows but they suspect you’ve stolen them or something. Not that you ate them.

You allow yourself to be captured, you could annihilate these puny humans if you wanted to but something tells you this place will grant you rest and food.

The fact they stole your clothes was mildly irritating but you can easily get some when you return 'home'. What do humans call it? The five finger discount? You're not sure what having five fingers has to do with saving currency but you appreciate it regardless.

You don’t develop transformations. You lack the biology to do so, but seeing other cattle develop their features tips you off to the fact you’re supposed to be gaining ears and such so you try to replicate them…

The farmhand who opens your stable in the morning almost shits their pants

You don’t try again after that.

Remy is wondering why their cattle are STILL disappearing.

Ivory Wraith:

They are much similar to yourself, tethered to this mortal realm through an object. Though their emotions are a bit more… uncontrollable than yours.

But perhaps that came with being human. Formerly, you suppose. Not that you would know what it’s like to be human.

They know your existence is eternal, will last for much longer than their own given their own circumstances.

Inevitably, they belong to this world and you do not.

Nonetheless you understand each other to a point, with both of you being non human and somewhat incorporeal.

They vaguely recognise you from long ago, a painting or two within the temple depicting a monster. They had never really examined it, being too unsettled to do so.

They also remember that during the schism, they felt the presence of something much larger than themself. They suspect it may be you, though they’re not certain.

No matter, you're here now.

…

It is the first time you have felt desire for something other than rest in centuries.

You have never been one to want. You do not experience emotion as deeply as mortals (or former mortals) do, somehow simultaneously deeper but so shallowly. You do not feel affection, and even if you have, it has surely been so long since then that you have forgotten. And yet…

You think this strange feeling in your fleshy midsection is the closest to love you can get.

[lost4pandora]

Here's more content for that HTTYD Reader in LU. This one has been proofread, and the reader will be using the term Y/N and they/them pronouns.

I'll be writing for more of this, and with that I'll be needing a name, so the HTTYD Reader series will henceforth be known as the "Sparks and Embers" series. I will be taking inspiration from all of the content up until HTTYD Homecoming, which includes the movie trilogy, the series between the first and second movie, and those fun bits such as Book of Dragons, Gift of the Night Fury, and whatnot. I will also be adding in my own personal headcanons here and there in terms of HTTYD dragon lore because I think they're neat and could use some of the fun stuff.

Some trigger warnings for this fic may include but are not limited to: mild gore, mild to fair descriptions of violence, mentions of a monster in pieces.

Now with that out of the way, I do sincerely hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it.

_________________________________________

Sparks and Embers

They heard whispers from merchants and travelers about a truly mystifying sight. A warrior donning a wolven mask, accompanied by two dragons of black and white. Who have been seen cutting down monsters in a flurry of movements, too fast for the witnesses to comprehend. All they remember is the haunting eyes and gleaming fangs of the mask the rider wore before disappearing in either a spark of lightning or a flash of flame.

Honestly, just hearing "warrior" was more than enough to catch the group's attention.

They had recently landed back into the champion's era, as told when he spotted a familiar tower in the distance. After regaining their bearings, they let the Link in question guide them to the nearest settlement, which happened to be the East Akkala Stable. It was there that they had decided to rest for the night, perform an inventory check, tend to wounds, repair damaged clothing or items, and the like.

In the midst of such, they happened to overhear the conversations from the other travelers that came and left. All about the individual who rode on the backs of dragons.

One individual, a hylian merchant, had been speaking to the stablehand about what he saw on the road. He spotted the trio resting along the tops of the Dueling Peaks as the sun began to set below the horizon.

Another traveler, a Rito, had chimed in that on her flight here, she swears that she saw someone walking on the dragon's backs, performing tricks for the fun of it. She remembers that they were hylian, with silver ornaments in their hair and a fluffy fur cloak wrapped around their shoulders. 

Lastly, a pair of children, the stablehand's sons, told the gossiping adults they were saved from monsters by one of the dragons. They said that it was white and sparkly, giggling madly when they mentioned that it sounded like a really big cat.

All these stories had the Chain curious and somewhat suspicious. It was the topic of conversation once they had left the stable the next morning.

"A hylian with a wolf mask accompanied by two dragons," Warriors echoed. "I can't say I've heard that one before."

"Me neither. It seems a bit surreal, doesn't it?" Hyrule replies, looking toward Wild. "You said there were dragons here, do you know who this dragon rider could be?"

The champion shook his head. "Not a clue. The dragons I know are huge and are surrounded by so much elemental magic that no one could even safely approach them."

"You think it's related to our problem?" Legend asks aloud, arching a brow.

"It could be," Wild replies. "But I doubt that it is. You heard those kids, the dragons and their rider saved them. It'd be weird that they'd be willing to cut down their own allies if they were working with the enemy."

Warriors nods at the reason. "Agreed. It has to be something else."

Time finally decides to make his opinion known. "No matter the case, it would be best that we seek this dragon rider out. We will most likely be getting something useful out of it either way."

The rest of the group didn't argue, coming to a consensus on their leader's statement. So they kept trekking onward toward their next destination: Hateno Village.

It was a fairly calm trip from there on out.

You know, up until they were ambushed.

One could call it an unexpected turn of events, though they knew that really it wasn't. It was inconvenient and extremely irritating at that point more than anything, but at least they were somewhat prepared for it. Weapons were drawn, magic was sparking, and everyone in the group had steeled themselves as the enemies came in droves.

When the first monster approached the Link that was closest to it, their sword came down in one sweeping motion. When sharpened steel sliced through soft flesh, a messy stain of black blood coated the blade's edge.

The situation had gone from irritating to bad very quickly.

Upon witnessing the sight of the ebony ichor, each Link had made a silent yet unanimous agreement. Pick a section and focus on your batch of monsters. It was easy enough.

Or it would have been had one not been corralled away from the others, and it had to be the youngest of them too. The sailor in particular could feel himself getting angry about the idea of being cornered, mostly because of how he'd definitely be getting babied by the captain, rancher, and probably even the old man once he rejoined the group later. Alas, he was preoccupied with fighting for his life to really let the anger settle into his bones, so instead he chose to channel it into his next set of attacks.

Swing, dodge, parry, duck, swing, swing, roll.

A familiar set of words that would repeat themselves in Wind's mind in random patterns. A mantra that every hero knew by heart, or would soon come to learn one way or another.

Wind couldn't remember how many monsters he had cut down. His sword was coated in their foul smelling ichor, his heart was racing, and his mouth felt dry. He was tired and the adrenaline pumping through his veins wouldn't last forever. Despite this, he doesn't let up.

He then felt something invisible seizing his lungs, a dreaded feeling. Fear, he deduced. He feels his posture stiffen as he looks around frantically for the cause of it. His head jerks up as a thundering roar rattles the trees around him. He turned his head, his eyes growing wide as a white maned lynel entered his field of vision.

It was safe to assume that the lynel was black blooded as well, and the sailor was in no position to even consider engaging it in battle. The only thing useful he had on him was a single, half empty healing potion that would do very little in this situation. The thought of making a tactical retreat to regroup with the others crosses his mind, but the idea is quickly discarded when he sees that the lynel has spotted him from its place across the field.

He can't outrun it.

It knows that he can't.

So it charges.

Wind thinks he can hear the distant shout of one of the others. He makes an attempt to call for them, opening his mouth to yell—   that's when he hears it. A strange whistling, high pitched and piercing, echoing through the air and in his eardrums. It was unlike anything he's ever heard before, and his mind still riddled with adrenaline shook itself for a possible answer. Although, the more he thought about it, the more he began to realize… that……….

…was it getting louder?

The sound distracts him to the point where he almost forgets about the lynel galloping towards him rapidly. He can feel its heavy footsteps shake the ground as it gets closer and closer. The beast is more than halfway across the field when it happens.

A speeding ball of violet blue fire comes out of nowhere and hits the lion centaur straight in the chest point blank. The impact knocked it to the ground, and he thinks he can see its black blood splatter across the grass. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the monster had sustained an irreparable amount of damage (a polite way of saying that its top half of its body was definitely in pieces).

He feels his namesake blow past him, a blur of white entering his field of vision as it lands just mere feet away from him.

It's big, noticeably bigger than Epona, with a lithe and lean body shape. Its features were surprisingly round and soft from what he could see, and it was coated in white scales that shimmered with blue, purple, and pink undertones. Its wings were noticeably larger in comparison to the rest of its body, and its tail was adorned with fins shaped sort of like fairy wings. It almost looked like it was…

…like it was a dragon.

Its body was crouched in front of him, its back arched into a defensive posture with its wings raised to make itself look bigger. He couldn't see its face, but he could hear it snarl. It was most likely looking at the body of the lynel it had just blasted to hell and back.

He peered over at the lynel's body, or what was left of it really, to see it crumble and dissipate into smokey red embers before fading completely. The dragon relaxes as it folds up its wings, its head raising up and allowing Wind to see two round ears perk as it scans its surroundings, though he could also see that there were also two smaller nubs beneath them. Its gaze soon fell on the young hero, causing it to let out a soft warbling purr.

He wasn't expecting to see such non-threatening features on a mythical creature that had just taken out a lynel in one attack only moments ago. Now that he had a much clearer view of the dragon, it looked less like a dangerous beast of ire and flame and more like a scaly marshmallow that someone had dumped an entire box of glitter on.

Lavender hues eyed him curiously, once hostile slits rounding out to more passive ovals. He could see two separate leather strings decorated with various charms and precious stones hanging around its neck. A black armband with silver ornaments was secured along its upper right arm, the ornament itself shaped like a four pointed star.

It squinted its eyes for a moment, before leaning its head forward to sniff at him from a distance. Wind wasn't sure what to do when it began to approach him, taking slow and careful side steps toward him. It stopped for a moment, and he saw its eyes staring at the blood stained sword in his dominant hand.

He could practically hear the lecture that he would definitely be getting for what he was about to do next, but had since decided that his curiosity of the result outweighed the certainty of consequence. He put his sword down, and took a good few steps away from it.

That seemed to be enough for it to continue its approach. Once it was right in front of him, it lowered its head with its ears flattened against its neck, as if to assure him that it meant no harm. He raised his left hand, the one that wasn't nearly as bloody as the other, and held it out to the dragon.

It tilted its head, sniffed, before leaning forward and rubbing its head against his hand.

Wind couldn't stop the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips, spreading out wider when it began to purr. He pressed the palm of his hand against the top of its head, marveling at the smooth feeling of its scales. He noted that it felt somewhat warm, and that its body was vibrating from the intensity of its purring.

He let out a shout of laughter when it suddenly pressed its whole body toward him, thankfully not on. It curled around him until the front half of its body was on one side and its tail on the other. It rolled onto its back, exposing the pale blue coloring going from its neck all the way down its chest and underbelly. Wind was more than willing to indulge the dragon and give it the pets it desired.

"You're way nicer about being pet than Wolfie is," he comments, scratching the dragon's belly. "You don't even growl or bite either!"

Wind hears the same whistling sound that the dragon had made previously, though this time it was brief and much more calm. He was about to turn to see what it was before he was distracted by a wet and slimy tongue dragging itself across his cheek. His expression morphs into one of disgust as he reaches up to wipe off the dragon's admittedly very sticky and thick saliva with his arm. Though it's clear that he isn't actually that mad about it, judging from the smile that was still present on his face.

"Lux, there you are! Why did you…."

He freezes, standing up straighter at the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

"What have I told you about personal space!" He turns to the owner of such. "Shoo, off! Dårlig drage, skam!"

The white dragon, whose name he now knew to be Lux, cooed softly in apology. It rolled back onto its feet, nuzzling Wind's shoulder one last time before darting toward the newcomer with its head ducked down. It cooed and warbled at them once they had dismounted the black dragon they had arrived on.

Wait, black dragon?

His expression changed into one of shock and realization.

The warrior donning a wolven mask, accompanied by dragons of black and white.

He looked the person over, and sure enough he spotted a wolf mask with its face twisted into a threatening snarl attached to one of their belts. They wore a fur cloak around their shoulders and a pair of dragon fang earrings. From what he can see of their arms, he spotted a myriad of tattoos depicting swirls of dragons painted across their skin.

The black dragon, who was also glaring at Lux trying to suck up to the stranger, was noticeably bigger in size. The ears along its head were much longer and in great numbers. There were shark fin shaped dorsal plates running a line down the length of its spine that became increasingly smaller as it trailed to the end of its long tail. Speaking of, its tail also seemed to have that set of fins on either side, though they were sharper looking than the other dragon's in comparison.

Well, he might be forgiven for petting the dragon now that he's found who the group has been looking for.

Speaking of whom, he saw them looking towards him after scolding the white dragon.

"I'm sorry about Lux, she doesn't exactly understand the concept of respecting people's personal bubbles," they said to him "Did she hurt you at all? I know she likes to lean, but I don't think she realizes that she weighs nearly a ton."

Wind blinks, taking a few moments to register the question before he shakes his head. "No, she saved me actually," he replied with a smile. "It-  uh, she absolutely destroyed that lynel earlier!"

The stranger's brows raised up in surprise, their gaze turning to Lux. "So that's why you suddenly disappeared. If you want to dive into battle, at least tell us first. We can't keep doing this or else I'm going to get gray hairs before I even reach thirty."

Lux rumbled softly, nudging her rider with her nose. She received a pat, which she purred under.

"They're yours?" Wind decided to finally ask, recapturing the rider's attention.

"I guess you could say that," they answered, "They're my family, more like. Sisters that I never had."

So they were both female, he'd have to remember that. "The white one's name is Lux?"

Another nod of confirmation. "Her full name is Faeralux, Lux for short," the stranger then raised a hand to gently stroke their fingers across the black dragon's head. "And this is Rhae, which is short for Rhaeneir."

"Of course, my name is Y/N," they added. "Might I know the name of the boy my overly affectionate Light Fury saved from peril?"

"My name is Link! But I'm going by Wind right now," he answers, biting his tongue on the reason why he's going by the name Wind.

Thankfully Y/N doesn't question it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Wind. Thank you for tolerating Lux's affection, and not attacking her."

It doesn't take a genius to understand why someone would attack Lux, yet even if she's a dragon, she doesn't look or act like any he's ever seen. Granted, he only really has Valoo for reference on that front, but his point still stands.

He opens his mouth to ask another question when he was suddenly interrupted.

"Wind?!"

"Sailor, where are you?!!"

The trio of dragons and dragon rider all perk up to the voices. Y/N turns to him and speaks, "Is that your flock?"

Wind nods, and Y/N turns toward Lux. "I'm staying with you from here on out. I don't need you to get any more ideas about diving without saying anything."

The white dragoness coos softly at her rider's decision before leaning down for Y/N to hop on. Yet before they could, Wind interrupts the action.

"Wait!" Y/N turns to look at him questioningly. "Me and my group were looking for you actually, so if you wouldn't mind, could you stay here until they come?"

The black dragon, Rhae, narrows her eyes scrutinizingly at the sailor, causing him to shrink the slightest bit under her gaze. Y/N waves a dismissive hand to get the Night Fury to let up.

"Are they as friendly as you?" the rider asks him. "Because if they're not and are prone to the 'attack first ask questions later' instinct, I don't need them trying to kill me or my dragons."

"I promise they won't, not if I tell them that you're safe," Wind says, gazing at them hopefully. "Please?"

Rhae remains unconvinced, but she sees Y/N's resolve start to bow at the sight of the sailor's look. She grumbles lowly, her expression morphing into a look that said, Are you seriously going to bend that quickly to some random hatchling's pleading eyes??

The Night Fury gave her rider a flat look when the answer was yes, as told by the sigh of resignation Y/N breathed out. 

You're weak, Rhae warbled.

Y/N's only reply was a halfhearted swat in the general direction of Rhae's face, an attempted hit that was nowhere near making contact. It was the rider's way of saying that they didn't need her judgment right now.

"Fine, I'm choosing to trust you on this one. Don't make me regret it," Y/N says, dismissing the little mental talk that they just had with Rhae. The rider turned, to which something shiny was seen in their peripheral vision. "If that sword is yours, best you pick it up so your flock doesn't assume I disarmed and cornered you. Gods know I don't need a repeat of that problem."

Wind nods and goes to retrieve his weapon he dropped in favor of coaxing Lux toward him. Y/N hummed, perking up when they heard the bushes rustle and a mop of blonde hair emerge.

"Wind?" Crystal blue eyes search the area frantically before they land on their target. "Wind!"

The boy, who had just sheathed his sword, called back to the other. "Warriors! Check out who I found!"

The captain's face displayed confusion, brows furrowing as his lips were parted just the slightest amount as he was stopped before he could speak. Wind points to his left, and Warriors follows where it goes and is gobsmacked by what, or rather, who he sees.

Y/N's arms were crossed as they were leaning on Lux, who was currently sitting down. They raised their hand momentarily to wave, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

Lux looked curious about the child's sibling, at least, they smelled like siblings to her.

Rhae was passive, not particularly interested or disinterested, merely there to witness.

It wasn't exactly the strangest ragtag group of individuals the captain has ever seen and believe him, he's seen his fair share. Though he would admit that this one was definitely in the top five.

Now to go tell the others about all of… this.

So much for a peaceful trip.

[kokabunny]

fleshing out an old angel character :) yes that’s my pfp lol

[actress4him]

June of Doom 2023

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @painful-pooch

Day 4 - “Does that hurt?” | Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilization

Day 5 - “It’s not as bad as it looks.” | Handcuffs | Swelling | Flinch

Also qualifies for @whumpawoman ’s Whump Girl Summer, Alt. Prompt - “Look at Me”

Contains: lady whump, graphic broken bone, restraints, fainting, brief emeto mention, captivity

.

.

Isa is still hunched over on her knees, breathing through the pain shooting up her arm, when a hand lands lightly on her other shoulder. Instinctively she jerks backwards, which only doubles the pain. She throws her head back and cries out hoarsely.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hey, look at me, it’s just me. Just me.” Glancing over, she can see Lainey holding up her hands, cuffs jingling. “Are you…are you okay? That’s a stupid question, obviously you’re not okay, but…crap.” Her hands drop to her lap. “He just…broke your arm, like it was nothing. I don’t…I can’t…” She shakes her head. “I hate him!”

She can’t deal with the chatter right now. “It’s fine. I just…need some time.”

“It’s not fine, would you quit acting like all of this is fine? I know it’s what you're used to, but it is far from fine and you deserve far better than this, okay?”

She knows that being treated like this isn’t alright. Intellectually, at least. It’s hard to remember sometimes, though. In fact, if she’s honest with herself, it’s really only due to Lainey’s presence that she’s started remembering it now. This isn’t normal.

But that doesn’t help her situation any, so she can’t really afford to dwell on it. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to accept that it’s normal for her, at least, instead of worrying about what she can’t change.

Lainey sighs heavily. “Is there…anything I can do?”

Isa starts to shake her head no. She just wants to sit, and breathe, and cope. But she has someone here now who’s willing to help her, and she’d be stupid not to take advantage of that. “There’s a…the cabinet. On the far end.” She motions toward it jerkily before returning to digging her fingernails into her upper arm. “It’s unlocked. There’s a kit in there. And a, uh…a piece of wood.”

Immediately Lainey is up and crossing the room to look in the cabinet she indicated. She holds up the two items in her cuffed hands for Isa to see. “This?”

“Mm-hm.”

She comes back and sits cross-legged in front of her. There’s already a bruise forming on her cheek, matching the ones around her broken nose. “I’m kinda surprised he lets you have first aid stuff.”

“Yeah, well, he…wants me to stay alive…for whatever reason. We have to be careful with it, though. It doesn’t get replenished often.”

Lainey nods in understanding, opening up the kit on the floor. “So…use the wood to stabilize it and wrap these bandages around?”

“Yeah.” It’s good that she has at least a basic knowledge of first aid already. Means she doesn’t have to explain everything, and she can hopefully count on her to do things herself if there comes a time when she can’t help.

Clenching her jaw, Isa carefully moves her arm out where it can be better reached. Lainey sucks in an audible breath through her teeth at the sight of it.

“Ugh. Aw, man, that’s…it looks so wrong.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Isa runs the fingers of her right hand lightly over the misshapen arm. She’s definitely had worse. “Most of it is swelling. Though this…” Her fingers stop on a slight lump in the skin. “This is gonna have to be pushed back into place.”

“Oh, man…”

She glances up at Lainey, who looks a bit paler than usual. “I can do it. I’ve done it before.”

“No, no way. I’m not making you do that yourself. I’m…you’ve got me now, I can do it.” She hesitates, hands hovering in front of her. “Just, uh…tell me what to do.”

“I usually do it against a wall. Makes it easier to brace.” Isa turns her body so that she can splay her arm across the wall, and Lainey scoots herself around closer.

“The fact that you have a usual method for this is…disturbing.”

Ignoring that comment, Isa points to the spot on her arm. “This is it right here. All I can tell you other than that is just…get in a sturdy position and push. And don’t stop if I scream or whatever.”

“Oh man. Okay.” Lainey moves in closer, shoving strands of messy brown hair out of her face. “I can do this. Okay.” Bracing both hands against the arm without pressing down yet, she glances over at Isa. “Alright. You ready?” While Isa nods, she sucks in a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut, then focuses in on the arm once more.

Looking away, Isa grabs a handful of her shirt and clutches it tight.

“Okay. Three…two…” Before she gets to one, she shoves with all her strength. The bone pops back into place and Isa screams even more hoarsely than the first time before everything starts to go dark.

She can faintly hear a surprised shout and feel herself falling to one side. An instant later, she opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her left side with her arm stretched out in front of her. Lainey is gingerly wrapping the worn, slightly bloodstained bandage from the kit around both her arm and the makeshift splint.

“Hey,” she says softly when she glances over and sees Isa’s eyes open. “You okay? Kinda freaked me out there. Good news is, having to keep you from smacking your head on the floor distracted me enough that I didn’t end up hurling everywhere like I thought I might.”

Isa picks her head up and looks over her bandaged arm. It’s so weird, having someone else do this for her. She’s not used to it, and part of her doesn’t want to trust it, but Lainey seems to have done a decent job. “How’s it looking?”

“Almost done. Wish we had an ice pack to get some of this swelling down, though.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t do fancy things like ice packs.” She glances up at the other girl, who’s tucking the end of the bandage as best she can. “You seem like you know what you’re doing, at least somewhat.”

One corner of her mouth quirks upward. “Softball, remember? We got hurt all the time. I picked up a few things from the medics like splints and recovery position. I’m no expert, though.” Sitting back, she looks over her work. “How’s that? Does that hurt?”

“Yeah,” Isa answers honestly. “But not as bad as it did when the bone was out of place.” She begins sitting up, slowly, moving her arm carefully into her lap. “Thanks.”

Lainey shakes her head. “You need a hospital, and some of those heavy-duty painkillers they gave me when I broke mine years ago.”

“He definitely doesn’t do painkillers.” Using her good hand, Isa scoots herself back to lean against the wall. “I’ll be fine. Like I said, I’ve done this before.”

“You shouldn’t have to, though.”

Isa doesn’t have an answer for that.

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

Ingo and Emmet are perfectly in sync. They have to be, living as conjoined twins. The Subway Masters of Nimbasa City, the two are happy with their friends and family and trains.

Of course, the universe contains chaos and random chance that can affect even the closest of people. The two find themselves in situations that neither would have ever expected, and it will test them both.

Through it all, one thing is certain. Family, both blood related and chosen, will never let you be alone. And, no matter the trials, a two-car train will always continue onwards.

Oh boy! Well, we're finally getting back to Unova, and to what's going on with Emmet.

Warnings for this chapter include blood, injury, mild gore, grief, mentions of vomiting, and lots of medical stuff. It's much less intense than chapter 4 but it deals with the whole aftermath from Emmet's side (ha) of things. Please be mindful of this!

As always, disclaimer is linked in first reblog!

[tendo-64]

congrats mother 3 you managed to get me out of art block to the degree that i found the motivation to make an animatic for the first time in five years after wanting to all that time but never being able to commit. final evolution of fandom brainrot

in all seriousness, as an animatic centered around mother 3's "known for being such a heart-warming and wholesome" ending, this is definitely one of my darker works. i promise i'll be back with something more light-hearted soon

rant below, tw's in tags and video intro

i've been listening to a lot of rise against lately and make it stop (september's children) made me really emotional the first time i heard. the song was actually written to raise suicide awareness for bullied lgbt youth (which for the record i don't want to erase, that is a very serious topic that is still relevant today which is why i'm mentioning that here and appreciating what the song set out to talk about)

but the first verse specifically is about lamenting over not seeing the signs that a loved one was on that kind of path--which, of course, is relevant to lucas and claus. lucas, who blamed himself for claus's disappearance in the first place and probably felt even worse when claus died by his own hand. claus, who showed less-obvious signs of struggling over hinawa in that last half-day before he disappeared that nobody in Tazmily was educated to recognize or help with.

it's easy to miss even for the player the first time going through (hell, i did at first), but in hindsight there were so many red flags: his complete shutting down at the campfire, and his consistent tendencies to run away whenever he's about to show emotional vulnerability (when caught by tessie at hinawa's grave, then when his confidence breaks when talking to flint in the jail cell). one may assume he was taking it better than lucas, but the ending proves that was far from the case.

(of course it was much, much more complicated than that, i don't think he'd have done that if not for everything that happened with the masked man thing. but ultimately i believe his desire to see his mother again was a major deciding factor in the end: the mother he was denied the ability to correctly grieve over when his autonomy and mind was robbed from him for so many years)

but hindsight is 20/20, as they say. all one can do is take claus's story as a lesson: always make sure your kids know that it's okay for them to feel difficult emotions, and they aren't weak for crying or needing support. perhaps the trip to the Drago would have never happened had claus been taught that, and he would have lived.

[yngai]

i was gonna write a longer diatribe about capcom's imposed limitations on their female characters for the sake of player eye candy but really what i wanted to say is that i'd love to write more of ada living on the opposite ends of the suave femme fatale persona she projects on assignments that have her more in control . days off or off-days where she is a little more disheveled, a little bit high, carrying on her life of crime shedding the mask but retaining camouflage as the spite & cynicism that underline her professional detachment bear teeth . mostly because this comic's imagery (x) is exactly what i picture in my mind for the darker sides of ada's existence, lower stakes, lower paying jobs for people who could never grasp in their hand the fate of the world, a no less draining release from the times she was forced to decide between her survival & death on a scale she cannot comprehend . also i'm a sucker for crime thrillers, give me more .

[weltato]

Rating: Teen and Up Category: F/M, Gen Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Paul Matthews & Ted Spankoffski, Paul Matthews & Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy, Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy & Ted Spankoffski, Paul Matthews & Bill Woodward, Paul Matthews & Alice Woodward Characters: Paul Matthews, Emma Perkins, Peter Spankoffski | Hot Chocolate Boy, Ted Spankoffski, Melissa (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Bill Woodward, Alice Woodward

Additional Tags: round 2 electric boogaloo here we go!, Nightmare Time: Hey Melissa!, Fix-It of Sorts, Paul Matthews Needs a Hug, He needs so many hugs, Paul Matthews Loves Emma Perkins, Emma Perkins Loves Paul Matthews, Paulkins - Freeform, how is that not a tag yet? they're the absolute best for each other, the next two need to be tags too, Dead Ted Spankoffski, Traumatized Paul Matthews, Angst, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, paul's nightmare is the hey melissa ending, POV Alternating, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, he's still having problems with eating but there's a bit of progress, please stay safe everyone!!, Food Issues, Vomiting, mentions of vomiting, Hurt/Comfort, But also, Hurt No Comfort, Mild Gore, (Ish) - Freeform, without the fic this was inspired by this fic wouldn't be as in-depth as it is, so go read that one it's so good!!, Break Up, BUT NOT REALLY. EMMA IS JUST OVERWHELMED AND PAUL IS CATASTROPHIZING, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, i think i've tagged everything but if not pls let me know and i'll add it :)

Series: Part 1 of 'The 12 Fics of The Holidays (2023)'

Summary: Paul sees Ted's little brother at Beanie's and suddenly he's consumed with thoughts of what Peter knows and if he knows that it's all Paul's fault. Seeing 'Little Petey' ties Paul's stomach up in knots, and nightmares reign supreme.

[A semi-continuation of 'My Home, My Saviour, My Firefighter', but can be read as a standalone.]

PLEASE READ THE TAGS

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

For @lilacthebooklover <3 We just keep running into each other :)

INSPIRED IN PART BY LILAC'S FIC 'Punishment' SO GO READ IT IT'S AMAZING!!

Paul is our traumatized little blorbo and either we heal him or keep him that way >:)

tws/cws also in the Tumblr tags, pls let me know if I've missed any <3

[macabresymphonies]

For people who somehow didn’t expirence the shitstorm that was Goblin Slayer S1 release back in 2018:

- Goblin Slayer got released

- some people got offended by the content of the show, which are basically your standard array of edgy ecchi, but mainly more sexually explicit scenes

- somehow the reaction from “Anime Bros” was proclaming the Goblin Slayer is a masterpiece of animation and people are just softies

- a massive drama was sprawling the scene

- turns out that at the end of the day, Goblin Slayer was just your standard, mediocre “sonny’s first softcore goru show” that didn’t really excel in any aspects outside of being edgy af

- nothing of value came out of it Just saying in case S2 release will cause a similar circus expirence. Don’t get worked up over it, because it’s straight up not worth getting involved in any side of the conflict.

[belle-of-a-time]

Saw a woman cradling the head of an elk she had hit with her car, it’s head and neck reflecting in my headlights, slick with blood as she held the animal. Sitting on the curb where she and a few others had pulled it from the road. Barricaded by three cars they sent the animal off with a final comfort. Though for who I could not tell you. Be safe my boyfriend told me as I was leaving watch out for elk…

[peafowl-arethe-best-birds]

"Sis told me to stop and I didn't though" dont worry its just a stim ,its nothing to be sorry about

No it isn't. Its self harming. I can stim by flapping and chirping but I pull feathers to make myself hurt

[theanxiousghostartist]

Character Introductions: Dr. Karasu Tanaka

(Sacrificium)

Fast Facts:

• 19 years old

• Lawful Neutral

• 5'6"/ 167.64 cm

• depression, PTSD, austim

• pansexual

• INTJ

• birthday: 12/15

Unvale

Lore and bonus art under the cut!

Karasu is a human, from the Kingdom of Powers, with the power to heal wounds and minor illnesses. This power helps her in her chosen field: a doctor. She enlisted in the military at the age of 17 and was stationed in the capital for a year, taking care of soldiers who have been medically discharged. A few days after her 18th birthday, she was called onto the front lines (which was severely shortstaffed) and worked there for about 6 months.

Part of the reason she enlisted was due to her experience with Queen Edrea. At the age of 16, as she was finalizing her doctorate of medicine (she was a prodigy and enrolled in college very early), Edrea fell gravely ill. Many doctors had tried to heal her, both with any powers they, and with medical knowledge, but failed. Karasu was able to heal the Queen through creative thinking and a little bit of her power. Many credit her healing of the Queen to her power alone, however, her power was not very helpful for Edrea's illness as:

• she can only heal minor illnesses (colds and minor infections)

• even if Edrea was wounded, she does not have the power to heal fatal wounds

° also, the larger the wound, the more physical energy it takes to heal the wound.

° if she does not have enough energy to heal a wound, she can transfer it onto her person, however she cannot do the same for illnesses

• futhermore, her ability has physical effects on her, not only making her tired after using it, but also strengthening her immune system greatly and making her skin tougher than the average persons (fun fact: she has never had a paper cut)

Karasu was the first person to be selected for the group. After healing Edrea, they developed a close bond. Edrea trusts Karasu with her life and sees the potential that she has, showing that by volunteering Karasu to be the designated doctor/healer for the team.

The story of her arm:

Karasu lost her arm about 4 months into her being on the frontlines. While trying to bring an injured person back to the medical facility, a bomb went off near the two. Karasu lost her arm and had to quickly close the wound in order to get back to the injured person, who had been further injured by the explosion (although not as bad as Karasu). She was sent to the capital on medical leave, so her wound could heal properly, and she could be fit for a prosthetic. The prosthetic is metal, and it attaches to her mid-bicept. It uses a sensor to sense her nerves and translate those messages into prosthetics, so it functions more or less like her body had before the explosion. It uses magic to help sensing the nerves. Thus, it would be extraordinarily painful to remove without a special physician to assist, which happens every few months.

The story of her mask:

Her mask was given to her by her father when she graduated medical school. It was designed specifically for her and was based on a story her aunt and uncle had told her when she was little. The story follows a doctor who meets someone 'incureable.' The doctor spends time with them and tries to figure out why they feel so sick. The 'paitent' basically just spends time with the doctor as they try to work it through. Several months in, the doctor overhears people at a tavern talking about a magical mask that heals any illness or wound. The two go off on an adventure to find the mask. However, as they are almost towards where the mask is kept, the doctor gets injured really baldy, but trys to keep it to themselves. They encourage the patient to put on the mask, and as their illness is cured, the doctor collapses. The patient, grieving the doctor, cries as they slip unconscious. The tears of the patient heal the doctor, and the two lived on.

It was a story of friendship that encouraged Karasu to keep trying to make friends. Ironically, the story came out of an rpg sideplot that her father, aunt, and uncle played together in college, which made them great friends.

Random fun facts:

• Karasu's special interests are: natural medicine (basically which plants can make medicines and how) and anatomy (mainly learning the anatomy of humans, demons, dragons, and spirits and comparing them, trying to figure out why they evolved differently)

• Her current hyperfixations are: metalworking and mechanics and researching plants

• loud noises scare her (part of the ptsd, got worse after the explosion)

• she is the smartest person in the room, but lacks 'street smarts'

• she was raised by her father, her aunt, and her uncle

• her favorite animal is a duck (ducks were a past hyperfixation, too)

Other Art: