#tw implications

[13o7billionyearsinthemaking]

To the JEP trio I suggest to stalk Gordon than Thomas, he has more problem than Thomas

why does James have one anyway O.0

[witchlight-carnival]

I’m sorry, dad. I forgot everything you taught me until it over… I didn’t even scream…. -🐞

[she-had-many-names]

*stitch slams against the wall with a loud THUD*

*he hits the floor and is glitching slightly*

*northa is bleeding (if you want her to be)*

@stitch-taocc

Northa has been hurt one too many times, has had her kindness taken advantage of one too many times, SHE’S SICK AND TIRED OF-

“NORTHA?!-“

[inky-dumbass]

WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU INK!

As the sun shone bright (x) woke up, beside them (y) peacefully sleept almost no traces left of yesterday bruises. Good, (x) smiled, a terrifying glint shone on their eyes.

They would make the people who made (y) suffer pay.

-Milly

Ps: u can change this around to fit anything u want, it's only a half thought prompt lol

Oh my god that goes perfectly for a D&D character of mine- (tw blood and violence and implied assault/harassment)

As the sun shone bright, Locke Brightstar awoke, beside them peacefully sleeping her lover, Xaivine Duskryn. The beautiful half-drow’s twilight skin bore almost no traces of the bruises from the night before and she slept peacefully beside the red-skinned tiefling.

Good, Locke though, and she smiled with a terrible glint in her eyes.

She was going to make them pay.

Xaivine started to stir, and Locke leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. “Good morning, beautiful,” crimson said in a soft whisper. “Mmmm, morning,” said twilight in a gentle mumble. The half-elf went to sit up, still sore, but Locke pushed her back down into the bed. “Get as much rest as you need, ok?” Xaivine nodded quietly, bandages parts of her body. “Okay,” she muttered, remembering the events that left those bandages in their wake. Locke’s eyes almost literally flared with a pure rage that could burn the Nine Hells to the ground, but only for a moment. “You stay here.” The half-elf nodded again, curling up into a ball under the blankets.

Locke made sure she had her lute strapped to her back, her favorite corset partially out of view beneath her cloak, contrasting with her pants. She strode confidently and purposefully across the village, whispers following her as the piercings and ornaments on her horns jangled quietly with each step. She did not stop walking until she found the tavern on the other side of town, and she did not stop for a moment as she entered. She blew the doors open with a quick touch of magic, not caring who would see. The tiefling looked around the room, the patrons silent and staring at her as her hooves quietly clop-clop-clopped to the bar. “Where are the brothers who hurt the drow?” Locke asked simply, not giving any room for misunderstanding or even any room for lies. The barkeep started to make something up, but the moment he did, he screamed in pain as his nose nearly exploded with the force of the nosebleed. “Lie again, and the next thing to come out of your mouth will be blood and brains,” the tieflings snarled, and the barkeep shakily pointed up the stairs to the rooms above. “S-s-second door on the right,” he said, his voice as shaky as his hand as he cowered in terror. Locke turned without another word and made her way to the room where those who hurt her dusky rose slept. She was going to make sure one of them didn’t wake from their next slumber. 

The two brothers slept soundly right up until Locke opened their door, at which point one of the brothers shot out of bed and reached for his spellbook only to have a dagger pin his hand to the bed frame. The younger brother shouted with pain as the blood dripped down, staining his robes. The older brother stirred, reaching for the blade under his pillow to try and surprise the tiefling woman only find her shortsword at his throat. “Try it, give me more of a reason to slit your throat,” she said, not even looking at him. The older brother slowly stood, his hands empty and raised in surrender as the younger sobbed quietly in pain. “You,” she snapped, and the younger brother shouted in fear. “You are going to decide for me which of you dies and which of you lives.” The younger started to sob louder, for he couldn’t decide. The older brother said “Kill me, I have less life to live.” Locke smiled a wicked smile and cleaved her sword . . .

right through the younger brother’s throat.

The older brother screamed in agony at the pain of losing his sibling, and he collapsed to the floor. “Why?” he said in a hoarse cry. “What did we do to you!?” Locke laughed, and it was a harsh, bark of a devilish laugh. “You hurt my lover. You thought that she would be an easy target, and when she tried to fight back, you beat her senseless.” Locke knelt down and forcefully grabbed the man’s chin. “And I repay injuries to her a hundredfold.” 

The man screamed in pain as he felt her sword tear quickly through his ankle, and he passed out from the pain and grief.

When he awoke, he was being tended to by a cleric.

By that time, Locke was already back with her lovely dusky rose, and Xaivine felt safe once more in the arms of her lovely crimson fiend.

[uno-duo-triotale]

you still havent said the price. and the emphasis you put on it was concerning.

“Only special deals for my special toys.” He hums, leaning back in his seat with a cheshire’s grin, continuing to work his numbers.

[uno-duo-triotale]

so he's casually taking a date rape drug? does frigid know that.

“yuh he does.”

“He’s had his fun twice.”

“again, i dont really give a damn.”

[uno-duo-triotale]

its just to help you relax, bro, settle down. *unzipping pants for the dick fun*

he meant to tug the bracelet the way error had told him to.

what happens instead is a panicked “NO.” and the long, piercing white bone that juts no less than 15 feet in the air, through the anon and shattering through the center of the table.

the blood feels warm on suddenly ice cold bones, and he covers his head with his hands, trembling.

he... he hadn't meant... to do that.

[uno-duo-triotale]

you suuuuure, big bro? *anon subtly climbing under the table to give blowjob eitherway*

He can sense the grey moving closer. He has a silent death grip on the blue threaded bracelet around his wrist from error.

“please.” he whispers, meek. “dont.”