AllTober Day 2: "It's All Your Fault!"

Space: Hidden Scar

Fandom: Original Work

AU?: N/A

Extra: Original characters again, whoop whoop!!

Warnings: Stabbings, self blame, attack, bodily harm

Tag: @badthingshappenbingo

The Warden Of Jejivan High Security Prison

The prison warden was an intimidating man, a tall fae with horns that looked sharper than a freshly sharpened blade. With his uniform and his flawless face, every inmate and worker within the prison assumed that was just how he was - a cold, physically flawless man who gave no sympathy. But, this couldn't be further from the truth.

Fëanor sat in his office with camera screens humming away to his left, his fountain pen scratching the page. He was leaning stressfully on his desk, his hand on his head and his elbow on the desk's surface, practically holding his head up. A new inmate had recently been put into solitary confinement, and the inmate was someone that Fëanor had known in the past. "How was the funeral...? Oh right, you couldn't attend, you were in a hospital bed... Kinda deserved considering you let my brother die...". Those had been the inmate's taunting words to Fëanor when they had arrived. The words that echoed through the warden's mind. Fëanor had to hold himself back from lashing out, keeping his cool.

He hadn't let anyone die, and if he could, he'd save all the victims he was unable to save. The inmate's brother was a victim to a case that had taken three teams of profilers and federal police to hunt down the criminal responsible. Fëanor was no stranger to the blame being put on him for 'not finding the criminal quicker', but he'd not expected the inmate to attack him - actually why the inmate was there, the only reason it'd taken so long to arrest him was because Fëanor hadn't been able to confirm who attacked him until the day prior to the inmate's arrival.

The attack was nothing special, except it'd been executed well. Fëanor had been at home when it happened, the attacker somehow breaking in with stealth akin to a vampire's. It'd started with the click of a gun being loaded to fire while Fëanor wasn't looking. The fae had looked at his assailant at that point, the gun firing and missing Fëanor by mere millimetres, the warden not even flinching. Silence had followed for a good few moments, until crashes of bodies falling into tables resonated through the room. The warden had fought back as much as he could, the assailant fighting tooth and nail to tire Fëanor out before slamming the battle of the pistol into the fae's jaw. The pain was dizzying, Fëanor's focus and concentration destroyed. Unable to fight back, Fëanor had no way to stop every sink of a blade into his body - arms, chest, stomach, legs - but all aimed perfectly so Fëanor wouldn't definitely die, but left enough of a chance it could happen. The assailant had leapt out of Fëanor's window by the time his neighbours came to him, having heard the commotion.

He'd been hospitalised for weeks afterwards, stitched up and hooked to wires and painkillers. He still felt the ache of the wounds through the painkillers, but any stronger of a dosage would kill him.

Fëanor hid the scars of the incident, feeling ashamed and full of self-hatred when he saw them himself. He hated it. If his teams and he had figured out who the criminal was sooner, his attacker's brother would still be alive. And, for once in his life, Fëanor blamed himself for it. He blamed himself, believing he deserved the attack, since he failed to save that guy.

No one knew about what happened to him, aside from his neighbours, and Fëanor planned to keep it that way. What would people think? The warden of Jejivan's most notorious prison being unable to defend himself? He'd be a laughing stock and a target.

The prison warden was an intimidating man, a tall fae with horns that looked sharper than a freshly sharpened blade. With his uniform and his flawless face, every inmate and worker within the prison assumed incorrectly about him - yes he was cold, but he was also scarred and ashamed, afraid to admit it aloud.

Y'all

No one warned me for this

No one warned me about Record of Ragnarok...

I'M HYPERFIXATED Y'ALL

Oh, and why is Buddha, yk, kinda fine?

"Overblot is a dangerous condition that mages must avoid at all costs." - Book 1, C24

My take on Crowley Overblotting. We know that Crowley is easily one of, if not the most powerful mage at NRC, hence being Headmage. His chances of Overblot are probably extremely high and him specifically saying it should be avoided at all costs has led me to theorise that Crowley has in fact OBed before or has come close

GO LOOK AT MY FRIEND'S SHADOWHUNTERS AU FOR TWISTED WONDERLAND

DO IT 😡

(Not forced of course!)

the roles and ages of the twst characters in my shadowhunters au

Riddle Rosehearts (20)- Shadowhunter, future Head of the New York Institute

Ace Trappola (18): Shadowhunter

Deuce Spade (18): Half-Shadowhunter who gets turned into a vampire (daylighter due to his shadowhunter blood)

Vil Schoenheit (unknown, over 100, appears 22): Vampire, head of the Brooklyn Vampire Clan

Epel Felmier (unknown, appears 18): Vampire

Rook Hunt (unknown, appears 21): Vampire

Leona Kingscholar (25): Werewolf, new leader of the New York Pack

Ruggie Bucchi (20) and Jack Howl (18): Werewolves

Silver (unknown, over 100): Warlock, High Warlock of Brooklyn

Lilia Vanrouge (unknown, estimated over 300): Faerie, right hand of Malleus Draconia, the man who raised Silver

Malleus Draconia (unknown, younger than Lilia): Seelie King, older brother figure to Silver

stay tuned for more information!!

Rotten Escape

Space: They're Coming For Me

Fandom: Original Work

AU?: N/A

Extra: This, like the other entries, is my own world and characters. This one's a little shorter than the others

Warnings: Brief descriptions of rotting, death

Tag: @badthingshappenbingo

No light to trust, for the moon gave no cover to the girl as she stumbled over roots. Run... Just keep running: that's what she kept telling herself. She could hear their voices, shouting to bring her back. Back to that white room with nothing but a minimal bed and a restraint system in case she got violent.

She was 8. Permanently 8. That's why they wanted her body as it slowly rotted away from her bones. They wanted sick, sick answers that she would refuse to be the subject of. They weren't welcome here. They landed and never disappeared. 8 years old and she ran through a woodland full of a misty blanket. Home. That's where she needed to get. To wriggle through the gnarled gates of the citadel grounds, and beg for help. Beg someone to tell her father that she was home.

She reached the gate, and almost as soon as she had, the gate swung over and she was hauled off the ground into the arms of a man. Pale tri-coloured hair was all it took for her to know that she was safe.

"You're safe, Cas, you're safe", the voice of one of her fathers rang through her ears and she lifted her head slightly. She saw the gleam of metal walk by, slow and deadly. Far too curious for her own good, she turned her head to watch as the woosh of air was met with the wet squelch of flesh and blood. A few thuds followed, presumably heads of the bodies that collapsed down to the floor.

"They were coming for me...", the forever young girl spoke, staring at the bodies outside the gate. They had been so close to getting her. Broke from her staring by a hand on her head, she looked up to the gentle brown eyes of her second father.

"They will never have you, Cassie, not if I have anything to say about it".

Space: Nightmares

Fandom: Original Work

AU?: N/A

Extra: Original characters again, whoop whoop!!

Warnings: Abuse, Blood mentioned, death, lifeless bodies referred to as dolls

Tag: @badthingshappenbingo

A Nightmare For Death

Trembling with both sections of his tail in his mouth, chewing on scales and leathery flesh, the boy remained as silent as possible. The tiny safe room his mother had installed into his room was a secret to that monster of a man. Why was he doing this? Young, little Mortalitas had done nothing wrong!

"C'mon brat, I know you're in this house somewhere!"

Still, he remained silent, daring to peer into the little view slot that he had so he could see if he was safe. He had to cover his mouth to stifle a scream. That was his mother... Dead. Lifeless. Being dragged like a pathetic doll by her clothes. Of course, the stifled scream didn't go unnoticed, and Mortalitas panicked as his hidey hole was approached.

The man, his father, or at least he's supposed to call this wretched man, had an expression that was more gnarled than an old iron gate. A vile, violent, vicious man who didn't understand the concept of love unless it required forceful and mercilessly hands. Not that it was love, and young, little Mortalitas knew that.

But when the little hidey hole was revealed, everything changed. The body was no longer his mother's, but rather instead his husband's. No... That wasn't possible... His husband wouldn't have been killed. Right? RIGHT? But alas, the clothing was now the Prince's official attire, ripped and shredded. The tri-coloured hair - blonde, baby blue and pastel pink - was matted with blood, the usually lively body language rendered down to the same movements of a ragdoll.

Similarly, his father was no longer his father. For one, his father did not have brown hair like the mud of a floodplain, shaggy and unkempt. His father didn't have grey, steel eyes that held not even one sane moral behind them. His father wasn't a mindless, cruel human, who's only concern was experimentation and torture. But yes, the man had changed too. Clad in a white lab coat stained red, with larger gloves of that sickening doctors' blue, a sneer plastered like a smile on his face - the CEO and lead scientist of the country's biggest threat.

=======================================

Waking with a startled gasp, the king stared at the ceiling with his chest heaving. His usually playful and unserious partner sat up beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Mortal...?"

The king could only sit up himself, and hold onto Jester with a vice hug, refusing to let him go. Jester held Mortalitas in return, securely in his arms where no one could dare to hurt him. Jester wasn't too clued up on Mortalitas' childhood, but he had a few ideas of what had occurred for his kingly lover. He never pried for the information but this was clearly more than his past.

"Mortal, dear...?"

"... You were dead... He killed you..."

The usually manic prince could only hold his beloved tighter. He knew that Mortalitas had lost almost everyone in his life, and he knew that he feared losing Jester. He made the attempt to soothe him, gentle hands raking through surprisingly untangled hair of a white, purple and black combination. It was painful, watching him struggle with no way for Jester to help. If only he could take away all that horror, pain, trauma, terror... Everything that his beloved ever suffered. But of course, that isn't possible. Jester can only hold him while he sobs, gut-wrenching heaves of his chest as his hands cling tightly to Jester. Sounds that no one ever wants to hear from anyone. Sounds that no matter what happens, you want to protect them with your whole being.

And, despite his lesser power, Jester would throw himself in harms way for the man in his arms.

Nanbaka Ramble incoming

Enki deserved better. The way that the murder wasn't his fault, it was instead Elf's. He lost a brother because of Elf. He lost his job because of Elf.

He ripped his own heart out because of Elf.

If someone had realised it was Elf the whole time, Enki would've lived

And why did it have to be Samon that found his body?

Ramble over (I may have gotten some bits mixed up but heyho !)

VINCENT IN REBIRTH

Thanks for the tag Sky

(my thing looks like a magic mechanic Sephiroth with a Torgal T_T)

@bonpocalypse @bunchoflimes @retrograde-tonic @thegayafgoat and whoever else

hi tumblr im starting a picrew chain

Picrew

Adventurer Avatar

Create a character for a fantasy adventure! by anjubatus on instagram WORK IN PROGRESS

:3 tags (no pressure)

@finleyforevermore @ohklah0ma @i-am-blackhole @ridleyytheriddler @probablyinsane33 @sleepy-vix @bitterliked1etlem0nade @im-a-slut-for-subway-sandwiches @memyselfandtori @lyssified @exilley @willthewise85 @spacewr3ck51 @joselinealt @doepedip @radiobrais @the-literary-anything-blog @believeinavocado @chrionic-cryer @dinosaur-in-a-jar @sincerely-lily @iloveyoutothestarsandback @piney-45 @stoptheuniverse @itsfunnybcuzitstrue @willupleaseebequiet @ak5ana @michaelholdenenjoyer

i am sorry if i missed u i did any mutual i found in my notifs in the past like 3 weeks if i missed u still feel free to do this !!

AllTober Day 4 - "How Much Of That Did You Hear?"

Contains: Barbatos/Beelzebub, Diavolo and Lucifer being Diavolo and Lucifer, Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Fandom: Obey Me!: Shall We Date?

Characters: Barbatos, Beelzebub, Diavolo, Lucifer

Extra: I LOVE BarBeel, it's such a cute ship and it needs more attention so :D

A typical day in the Devildom - Mammon in debt, Asmodeus shopping, Satan getting mad when his reading is interrupted, Belphegor sleeping, Leviathan gaming... The usual.

Well, for most people, the usual.

The Demon Lord's Castle housed a couple of guests on this day - Lucifer and Beelzebub. Beel had been left to his own devices, a banquet provided by Barbatos to keep the gluttonous demon occupied. Lucifer had a meeting with Diavolo.

At the end of the meeting, Barbatos walked into Diavolo's office to collect any teacups and saucers, only to hear the end of Lucifer's statement.

"... he'd like to confess."

Who'd like to confess? Barbatos, in an uncharacteristic interest, tilted his head. "Oh? Who's confessing things?"

"Ah! Barbatos, we hadn't noticed you there!" Diavolo gave that same happy smile he always did.

"Yes. It appears one of my brothers has fallen for someone" Lucifer replied, giving Barbatos a look to say the 'someone' was indeed the butler.

"Is that so? May I enquire who?"

"Beel."

Barbatos failed to keep his face from going red. He has expressed to Diavolo a multitude of times about his own feelings for the famished sixth born.

"Hmm, it seems you like him as well." Lucifer smirked, suggesting he had ideas.

"How can I not? He's constantly eager to try my baking and cooking, and he's genuinely an attractive and interesting demon" Barbatos explained, not registering the knock on the office door.

Diavolo had welcomed Beel into the office mid-way through Barbatos' little confession. Barbatos ultimately froze in a matter of a second, before excusing himself.

"How much did you hear, Beel?"

It wasn't until many hours later that Beelzebub had gone into the kitchens to find Barbatos, the butler baking some sweet treat. "Uhm... Barbatos?"

Barbatos jumped a mile, spinning round to face Beelzebub. "Oh, Beelzebub... My apologies for my startled reaction. How can I help?"

"... Lucifer told me about the conversation".

Well shit.

Barbatos cleared his throat and sighed. He ought to have known that Lucifer would tell. Afterall, it was Lucifer who told Barbatos that Beelzebub liked him.

"Funnily enough, Lucifer also told me about your feelings" Barbatos informed, craning his neck a bit to look up at the taller. Beel had a pale blush on his face, before - provided with no warning - hugging the butler with a soft smile. Barbatos took a moment to process, before reciprocating the action.

"Soooo, confirmed?" Diavolo's voice rang through the kitchen. Barbatos, in embarrassment, launched a silicone spatula at his lord with a scowl.

"Shush, my lord".

"Doesn't answer my question!"

"They're confirmed, now lets leave the lovebirds to it" Lucifer grabbed Diavolo by the collar, dragging the nosey prince with him.

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