yasha the ninth

going to post this now so i can actually focus on my deadline

oh i hate them

Once, a mention of Henry’s concern for her might have gotten her through the day. Today, it mocks her, a reminder of the hopeless state that she’s been trapped within. Greedy, greedy, taunts a voice within her mind. You’ve finally gotten Henry back and now you want more? The flowers struggle to be free, stop up her throat until she’s choking. She shakes, strains against the blockage, and it’s not enough, it’s not working, she’s going to suffocate to death. The wad of flowers is too thick to emerge, and she can’t get them out, can’t do anything but shake with restrained force, spots winking in and out of her eyes, her vision blacking out– She staggers forward, her head pounding, her breath refusing to come. This is worse than ever before. She’s always been able to cough the flowers out, to let them rip their way through her trachea and deal with the pain after, but there are too many now, blocking her airflow, and she can’t– she can’t breathe– For an instant, she catches sight of Emma, eyes wide with horror. Ah, she thinks fuzzily, fighting for her last bits of consciousness. There you are.

[Won't be the last time I'll say that much]

my contribution to the frankenyuri agenda

The Butcher

just focus on the tiger, focus on the chonky tiger I say 🥲

happy hacks eve to all who celebrate!

Season 1 / Season 2 / Season 3

she lives in my mind ok. i dont wanna talk about it

Everyone's afraid of you, you know? But, like... I'm not.

Imogen and Laudna are basically married

“i'll take it”