You Said RGB Is A Fan Of Mary P.? What Would Happen If He Met Her?

Alucard: sing me a song

Walter: 

i hate when you google a word and some fucking company comes up instead. Do you think you are more important than the english dictionary you piece of shit corporation

i love him

tag yourself im knife wife

Salt on the wound, Krulu finds a gift you planned on giving him, before he killed your spirit, with a sweet note too

And your husk just stares at him, with no emotion

[Anon this is good shit.]

It's beautiful.

A small raven figurine made of finely ironed strips of metal, each feather well-thought out, even the tail ones held a level of immaculate precision and attention to detail he can appreciate. Featuring an elegant obsidian pigment with shines of purple and blue to highlight specific sections as well as precious light gems for eyes. This is something you must have spent months making. For him, it would have been a blink of an eye, but for someone unskilled and clumsy- As all lessers are, naturally, it would have taken a small eternity.

A raven.

One of his favorite avian lifeforms. You paid attention to his ramblings...

Krulu wasn't meant to find this, that much he can tell. You generally weren't very good at hiding things from him, and how could you ever be, when he was suffocating your every thought. But somehow, in some way, you were dedicated enough to act quickly during the higher's attention lapses. It was tucked away in the break floor, a place he's seldom ever physically ventured to. Clever. Krulu wishes, from the depths of his charred heart, that he still had your memories. So he could see you make it through your own eyes, relish your sentiments. But he has nothing now.

Just the emptiness of his own thoughts echoed back to him infinitely.

Two hands cradle the figurine as if it's the most delicate artifact in this world. As if breathing in its direction will cause it to crumble like sand between his fingers. He strokes the metal feathers pensively while his upper set of arms lingers in the air, almost unwilling to establish contact with the folded black note that had sat beneath the statuette. Krulu takes a deep breath, grounds himself for what must have been minutes of putrid silence, and finally opens it.

" To my lord and guide,

Every day I am at your service I find new meaning in my life. My love and admiration of you is endless, I only wish that I was verbose enough to properly express it. Although my fingers are not as nimble as yours and my own mortality limits my understanding of art- I hereby offer you this admittedly flawed yet heartfelt offering, in honor of all the moments we shared and will continue to for as long as I am able to please you.

With all my heart and soul,

Your chosen. "

...

A wave of sickness courses through Krulu's entire frame so thoroughly that he sincerely has to cover his mouth for a moment. Then a breeze settles. Cold, frigidness, icing over his limbs, penetrating his hide and stabbing straight into his soul like a million shards of glass. He has to set both things down and look elsewhere, plagued with his own guilt, with the reality of what he's done, of how he's just perpetuating the misery previously inflicted onto him.

Because he was broken into that cycle. He's so unhinged and so irrational- He took so much damage in his time inside the void that he can't function anymore. He's blind to others, their care, their limits, their adoration.

You loved him.

You worshiped him.

And Krulu just couldn't notice it. It was never enough. He took you for granted and he abused his own vessel. As if such a simple little mortal could heal him, could fix centuries of pain. You tried to mend his woes and Krulu chewed you up like a piece of gum. Spat you out broken and demanded more. You were always there nonetheless, always willing to let him scar your frail body, always ready to degrade yourself for his amusement. Yet, he's so terribly weak and insecure, that the one time you defended yourself- He snuffed you out.

Eventually, his wide slitted eyes find yours, just as vapid and glazed as they have been for the last couple of months. Krulu forces your barren body to walk towards him, each step a mockery of the human walk cycle.

" Did you make this for me, lamb? " He murmurs, voice shaking.

Naturally, there is no response. Because there is no one there.

The higher takes your head in his hands, fingers combing through your hair in the gentlest manner he's ever handled you, ironically. You haven't aged a day since that moment. Haven't shed a hair or broken a nail, your body is stuck in a complete sullen and vapid stasis. And it'll remain so for as long as he can bare to look upon you. In a moment of selfishness and endless vulnerability, the higher crouches further and presses his thin lips to your own static pink ones. You stare ahead, way past Krulu, way past this world.

It only makes him feel more nauseous.

Shaking with repressed emotions, with the cumbersome weight of his deeds clawing at him, Krulu uses all six arms to cage your lifeless, puppet-like form against his curled one. There is no warmth there, no steady heartbeat, no shifting of skin- No hands to grasp him back, no smile against his flesh, no joyous laughter.

There is only nothingness.

The same cold, silent oblivion he once fought so hard to escape.

Birds scatter, the entire Clergy shakes thunderously.

An old god weeps.

Epsilon and his creator, Dr. Newton-Howard

Репощу дерьмо с этого блога потому что оно красивое

Look at these angry children.

I'm projecting ignore me-

Astarion x a Tav or OC who's also an abuse survivor, but they went in two opposite directions with how their abuse affected them.

Astarion became hard and cold, keeping everyone and everything at a distance, hiding his pain behind a carefully constructed layer of snark and sarcasm and wit and vitriol. He has had to suffer, so why shouldn't others?

Meanwhile Tav made it through their abuse, suffered, but survived, looked at all of the horrors and atrocities they had to go through, and said through a mouth full of blood and grit, "No one is ever going to have to suffer through this the same way that I did. No one is ever going to have to feel this way ever again. Not on my watch!" and they actively chose to be kinder. They saw the worst that the world had to offer and refused to let it turn them into a monster too. "It ends with me!"

(*insert the Doctor's speech from The Zygon Inversion because that scene lives rent free in my head and is always like a punch in the gut reminder to remain kind in a cruel and unjust world*)

Astarion x a Tav who has made it through their abuse and has come out unabashedly kind and patient and sympathetic, who refuses to give up hope - not on the world, not on others - who loves openly and bravely because they have had to go without it for so long. They still have their scars - some mental or emotional, maybe some are even physical - and are still recovering and healing, but they're far enough down their own journey of recovery that they can help lend a hand and guide Astarion onto his too, and then they can walk the path of recovering from a lifetime of abuse side by side, actively encouraging and supporting the other while battling their own internal demons and holding each other accountable should they begin to slip back into old, darker habits.

Jealous Jinshi letting Maomao know he's jealous in his own Jinshi way