Anome-chan

By the dim light of the Green Sun, it became rather apparent that morning had arrived. Well...morning is a rather relative word considering your imprisonment on the distant moon chained to an otherworldly planet in the middle of the blind eternities of space; however, you calling it morning was as close to normality as you could conceive. Looking around tentatively, you notice the still absent chair of your supposed warden; you say supposed because the guy hadn't been there in a week and to be honest you weren't complaining except for the cuisine maybe...Ah! Speak of the devil. Here's your chef now. A small rather boisterous fellow dances ov

WARNINGS: Drug use, slight violence and language. It's been cold for years, (Name) tied her (h/c) hair into a sloppy on the back of her head, sitting with a cup of tea at the window sill to watch the snow cover the city below her apartment. Cars still honked, people still shouted, despite the rush of ice and snow. Soft thuds of snow boots on the carpet caught her attention and she rushed from her small bedroom into the living room, where her boyfriend had entered the apartment. But instead of greeting him with the usual smile and "How was your day," she stared at him, eyes wide. His face was cut up and raw, eyes bloodshot and hands bloody

[Human!Tavros x Reader] He wasn't quite sure what was special about you. Maybe it was the way you smiled, and the way you wove the flowers together so intricately. Or maybe it was because you were always so nice to him, even after he got into a car crash with Vriska, and had to stay in a wheelchair for a good year. You were the one pushing him around, all the time. Not that you minded, of course. "Uhhh, [Name]?" His voice echoed emptily, as he watched, entranced at the way you made a flower crown. Tavros had a pale blush on his cheeks, as you glanced up, your [e/c] eyes sparkling as your eyes hit his soft, brown eyes. "What's up, Tav?" Y

Karkat's POV Quiet. That's all she ever was. She never talked in class unless she was called, she never even sat with anyone during lunch; nobody knew where she ate, or if she even ate at all. She just seemed to disappear. Sometimes you wish you could do that.  But, when she did speak, you savoured every word. Her voice was like silk; like a whisper of something hidden- something controlled. Her head, that head of beautiful (h/c) hair, was forever downturned, her hands neatly folded. In class, her eyes attentive, but never on anything other than the lesson. She was a mystery, (y/n,) and it was one that no amount of loud ranting would s