#tw.burns

[demegod-dess]

A ton of old-ish random Michael doodles, plus some lady with freckles on the first one that I assume was a Mrs. Afton attempt but honestly not sure?

[moonlightmiya]

No thoughts just stoner!Mattsun using you as an ash tray, pressing his cigs out on you and spitting on you like a whore

[mindless-bibliophile-alt]

Snippet #4.02

Part 1

Tw: use of medical equipment, death mentioned, burns mentioned, car accident mentioned,

(all mentioneds’ are marked as tw.death, tw.burns, ect. ect.)

When the door clicked shut behind Civilain, they all but collapsed into a heap. Their bag slipped from between their fingers and to the ground with a heavy thunk. A breath they didn’t know they’d been holding escaped them as they dragged a hand through their hair. They let the silence stretch around them, as if it could say ‘there is peace in the city, it’s okay, it’s all okay now’. They dropped to a crouch beside the bag they had dropped.

*Cough*

Civilian shot their feet, their eyes darting across the apartment. “Who’s there?” Their eyes landed on a shape at their kitchen table. “Show yourself.” They growled as they groped for something, anything on their belt. Anything they could use as a weapon. The shadow in return, put their hands up in surrender. “Calm yourself. I have no interest in a fight.” Yeah right. Why else would they be here? A thief wouldn’t stick around so whoever this was wanted to be seen. So what did they want?

“I’m only here because the boss wants to talk to you, something about two weeks being up? Said you’d know what that means.”

Two weeks? What did that m- oh. Something close to relief bubbled in Civilian’s chest. Supervillain wanted them. That really shouldn’t have been reassuring, but— hold on, why did they want them?

“I… I told them-“

“Look, I don’t care what your excuse is, you’re going to their base. Grab whatever things you need, you’re coming with me.” The person stood, then crossed the room to stand in front of Civilian. Wow, this henchman-person is short.

“I am not short! I am Supervillain’s right hand, and I am not some lowly henchman.” But okay, they weren’t that short, but then again they only came to Civilian’s shoulder! What were they supposed to say?

“You’re not supposed to say anything. And I am a normal height, I’ll have you know.” They growled before not-so-subtly changing the topic to what supplies Civilian might need and basically dragging them back out of their apartment.

It was a quick ride to Supervillain’s base. At least, from what Civilian could tell with a blindfold on. They’d handed off some of the equipment— a set of tweezers and their trauma shears— to be sterilized, and after had been whisked through corridor after corridor until their guide shoved them towards a door and sped off.

But now here they were, in the presence of Supervillain. Answer the questions thoroughly, answer all of them, the right hand had instructed on the way over. Answer the questions thoroughly, answer a-

“I’ll admit, it took me a minute or two after I left before I realized I wasn’t in pain,” the super swiveled in their chair, now facing the poor civilian. “Care to clarify?” They didn’t hesitate with their answer.

“My jump bag has morphine in it. I took a chance you weren’t allergic to it and administered. I hoped you wouldn’t mind.” The civilian set the bag down and began to fidget with the bagged supplies. “Where and how many stitches, again?”

“You don’t remember?” The supervillain had the audacity to sound surprised.

“I’ve been busy.” Their mind whirred through the scenes, one after another. The flashing sirens and radio calls. The chaos and the screams. The anguish and flat-lines.

“Surely you’d remember stitching up someone in your living room.” The supervillain sounded both smug and incredulous in a way that made Civilian’s blood boil. They didn’t dare look at them, else they might get the urge to throw something at their face.

“Look, in the past few days I’ve been in countless living rooms. I’ve been to three different fire scenes and treated numerous burn victims. I’ve been transport and lifeline for six heart attack victims. I have been to over twenty car accidents and encountered far too many DOAs than I’d care to count.” The images flashed through their mind, one haunting face after another. “So many people, too dead, too soon. So forgive me if I don’t remember the one instance that involved you.”

It was only after that they remembered who they were snapping at.

Their hand flew over their mouth— they didn’t mean to say that! Civilian couldn’t help but look at the supervillain, to survey their reaction or out of pure shock, they couldn’t tell.

The supervillain laughed— they were laughing?! What did that mean? Civilian was going to die weren’t they? And even after their laughter died down until it was nothing more than a sly smirk, Civilian knew there would be trouble for their outburst.

“Two on the left arm and one across the ribs. And the last one is here.” They gestured to a spot just above their hip.

Civilian nodded but didn’t move towards them. Where was Right Hand? Where was their equipment? Surely it had been long enough, right? Between the time they had been separated from Right Hand and now, it had easily been a half hour, probably longer. It didn’t take that long to sterilize equipment. Civilian stared at the door, before glancing back to the supervillain. They grimaced. Supervillain seemed a bit annoyed with having to wait. And they were not known as a patient person.

Civilian had the feeling that if Right Hand took too much longer, Civilian would surely pay for it.

[gingersnaaps]

if you're not good with very dark content please scroll

tw/tags(PLEASE READ): aftermath of r*pe, torture, chemical burns, cleanup after s*x, uh bleach, timeskip!sakusa

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

sakusa is beyond thorough with his cleanup. after all, he doesn’t want to leave behind any traces, any evidence, any indication at all that he may have once been here.

“open your legs,” he says, eyes glittering. he wipes his cum off your thighs with a sanitary wipe, damp and cold to the touch in a way that sends shivers rattling down your spine. he does it so carefully, painstakingly cleaning between every crevice on the surface of your sticky, stained skin, his touch gentle enough that in any other circumstance it would almost be loving.

he looks down at you, checking his work, and shudders in revulsion. it’s not enough.

he can’t see his cum on you anymore, but he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something so undeniably filthy about you, tainting your surroundings and dirtying every single surface you touch. you’re so fucking lewd; he wants to get rid of it, get rid of everything you’ve ruined.

he reaches for the bleach.

your eyes widen as you recoil, desperately trying to back away - but you don’t get far before he grabs you, squeezing so tightly at your wrist your fingers start to numb and purple. “hold still,” he hisses.

you obey him, of course. what choice do you have?

when he pours the bleach all over your soft hair and tender body, sakusa finally feels like his skin has stopped crawling. even when he watches you scream in excruciating pain, the bleach burning where it comes into contact with your naked, shaking body, your hands scratching at your eyes because it hurts so bad you think you’ve gone blind, he stays remarkably calm. he’s just doing what needs to be done, he thinks, reaching for your mouth and prying your jaw open.

as he watches the bleach trickle down your throat, your pathetic gurgling noises are almost soothing to him. he wonders if you’re choking right now.

for the first time since he’s laid eyes on you, sakusa finally feels at ease.

[tiny-barbarian]

So my dnd group hasn't been able to meet for nearly a month now, draining a good bit of my energy replenishment and source of joy

So naturally I put the draining energy into an angsty piece

Figure this is about as good a time as any to put his backstory finally

tw for like war and death and angst. TLDR is there was a reverse ATLA situation where the Air Genasi wiped out the Fire Genasi, and Pix is the last of the Fire Genasi

....except he didn't have the peaceful combat-avoiding childhood teachings Aang had so he's DEFINITELY down for some revenge-

To start with, long ago, the Sirix Angels locked away a powerful artifact (the Phantom Crucible) with five keys. To keep it locked, they kept one of the keys, and gave the last four to the Genasi, one to each tribe. The Phantom Crucible grants you any wish, so the stories go, so clearly it's sought after. Things were bound to go wrong eventually.

Vulpix grew up in the Cinders tribe of Fire Genasi, joining the tribe's army, where he learned to fight and also learned about and met those from the other Genasi tribes (Including General Galeon Atmos of the Air Genasi, who he came to admire and look up to. I think I've posted him before, he's the blue guy in past Vulpix posts).

Then the Elemental Schism struck, a war between the four tribes over the keys to the Crucible. It wasn't long before the Water and Earth Genasi pulled out, the war becoming too much, leaving the Fire and Air to battle it out. The Air Genasi outnumbered the Fire Genasi and slowly began to take them out, but the Cinders kept fighting.

One battle that young (now Captain) Vulpix took part in grew a bit too close to a phoenix's nest. Despite the severity of the battle raging, Pix stuck by the nest, driving the enemy away till the battle was past it, saving the eggs from certain doom. He didn't know this act of compassion would have grave effects later. That battle ended at more or less a draw, the army of the Cinders retreating to Torchtop, home of the tribe... But they weren't expecting the Air Genasi to attack again so soon.

It was a very onesided battle. Through sheer numbers and a ...strange other advantage, the Air Genasi quickly broke through defenses. The Cinders were dropping like flies. They fought against hope itself that something would turn the tides of the fight.

Vulpix had been separated from his squadron, and was facing a group of Air Genasi on his own. He was not doing well. If he slashed at one with his sickle, another would be right there with a sword of their own. Blasting a fireball would only result in it being blocked, leaving no apparent effect. Vulpix knew this was the end here.

Then it happened.

There was a shrill cry of a bird somewhere overhead, followed by a burning sensation deep in his chest. He’d been burned before, of course; living among pyrokinetics it was inevitable. This, though, was different. So much stronger, so much more painful. He thought for a moment that this moment of vulnerability would be his downfall, but it only took a second to realize the flames licking at the ground around him, the attackers running away. Pix only held a few more seconds of his own volition before the phoenix’s powers took flight

The flaming Genasi made short work of driving the rest of the attackers from the encampment, but the damage was done. When the phoenix’s aura finally dropped, Vulpix quickly realized he was the sole survivor of the attack. He wasn’t even given a chance to mourn them, the phoenix ushering him away before the enemy returned.

Pix searched desperately for the few other Cinders that had escaped the slaughter, each time realizing he was too late. Each disappointment, each failure only further broke his heart, and there was one thing he knew with more and more certainty:

He would find whoever had done this, and he would make them pay.

[gingersnaaps]

tw: burns, toxic relationship

keishin loves the way your skin looks littered with his cigarette burns, loves the harsh, red marks, loves the way you sniffle afterwards and thank him for it. he’ll do it in the car, the faint smell of smoke saturating every surface, the cigarette hissing as it meets your skin. it’s almost like he’s branding you - leaving little reminders of who you belong to every time you roll up a sleeve or undress for a bath. and he knows that it hurts. he sees the way you cringe and wince every time he holds you still and leaves his marks, but you look so lovely afterwards - how could he possibly help himself?