#I love what you guys sent in!

[vela-pulsars]

"While it could use its psychic abilities in battle, this Pokémon prefers to swing its powerful arms around to beat opponents into submission."

[just-null]

i love the more well known characters and all but im pushin them all aside to focus on those in the back. i love background characters so fucking much. ino..... ino come back..

[bixels]

Jesus man, relax.

[notherpuppet]

Alastor is a complex character!

Despite being one of the few characters in Hazbin with confirmed identities (his ethnic background and sexual orientation), those identities are in of themselves, complex experiences.

There’s seemingly nothing about the character that is Black or White.

I think that’s why he is such a compelling character! Also, it’s probably one reason why he is such an attractive conduit for folks’ creative expression.

His identities are not necessarily why many people may gravitate towards him, but they do offer a chance for people to investigate him and explore a character—as unique as he is—into avenues they may not have considered before.

I can commiserate with feeling defensive of a character who shares an identity with you—ESPECIALLY an underrepresented one. Discourse is natural and completely fine! (And very educational sometimes in my experience)

But I don’t think it’s fruitful to police a fandom in these matters. Some folks come to my inbox (I delete the really rude ones) or comment sections with a very cop-like attitude to a space that’s supposed to be creative and/or fun *airhorn*

That’s my take as just some guy on the internet 🤓🛜 have a good dayyyyy

[scuderiakarts]

thinking about pierre telling charles he has to win for anthoine and pierre using one of charles’ helmets for his tribute helmet in monza and pierre having a picture of himself and charles on his motivation board and pierre telling charles to give them something to celebrate in monaco and charles saying pierre winning in the monza is the only thing that could make him smile

[rawbin-hsr]

OMGGG Your latest smut fic is so amazing!!! The smut is absolutely delicious! but....the angst is breaking my heart so...could you please write a continuation or part two where the reader confronts Aventurine's dark internal thoughts and comforts them? A fic where they actually get him to believe that they love him for real, where they tell him that he's not a monster and that he wasn't ruining them.

You've got it ! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - �� ) ✧

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves. (Part 2)

Read part 1 here !

CW: dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), lots of mentions of death, passively suicidal Aventurine, violent imagery (through metaphors, nobody is actually physically harmed), intrusive thoughts, Aventurine thinks kind of vicious things about you (refers to you as "stupid", "brainless", "naive" etc), cursing.

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

Small note: Spoiler alert sorry, but you will not completely fix Aventurine in this fic. Making any real progress would take YEARS. The trauma he's gone through and his beliefs about his own humanity are EXTREMELY deep-seated, just one conversation would not be enough to make him truly believe he was loved. Super sorry since I'm sure that's not what you wanted (you specifically requested they "truly get him to believe that they love him for real", but this does still end on a hopeful note so I hope you won't be too disappointed (•ᴗ•,, ) )

Sometimes Aventurine gains enough clarity to remember where he stands. More importantly, he gains enough clarity to remember where you should stand. That is to say, as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, you are never keen on doing that. 

In these moments of clarity, he distances himself. If you won’t do it, he has to. He needs to. He needs to even when he can feel the little pieces of him that you’ve managed to haphazardly glue together splinter into tiny shards again, even when it feels like every step away is a step walked on shattered glass. He can hardly be called a ‘person’ anyways, what does his suffering matter? He has already lost so many good things, why not add another loss to the tally?

He reads your texts, but he doesn’t respond. He hangs up on you the moment you call. By doing this, he makes sure you know he is alive. Both because he knows it would devastate you if you thought he died, but even more so to make sure you know he is intentionally ignoring you. He hopes at least some part of you hates him. He thinks part of him hates you.

But he can never stay away for long. Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. Thoughts of you always cloud his mind too much to do what is right. He reminds himself he will destroy you. He comes back anyways. He is too selfish not to. 

And you welcome him with open arms every time. Sure, sometimes you yell. Sometimes you berate him. Sometimes you cry. But he never does something beyond the bounds of what you’ll forgive, even though he tries to. You’re patient to a fault. Though he feels bad, he never takes it fully seriously, because you always hold him with so much sweetness, even when your words are filled with righteous anger and justified hurt. You always end it by reminding him that you love him. Something clenches in his chest; something that is not his heart, because he has none. He claims he is sorry, but you both know he will do this again. He always does. You know he will hurt you over and over, even if you don’t know the extent. You know he will test you, that he will ignore you, that he will cling to you and that he will taunt you. You don’t know he will drag his claws through you and tear you to ribbons; you don’t know he will sink his teeth into your neck and drink all your blood; you don’t know he will lure you to sea and drown you. You are never aware of the true danger you are in. 

Maybe that’s why you one day feel comfortable enough to corner the creature that has taken on the appearance of a lover. You sit down next to him in bed one evening after one of his many attempts to push you away, your expression grim. You look straight ahead, right into his dead eyes, unaware that a monster is towering over you. 

“We can’t go on like this,” you say. For one moment, the crushing relief and devastation threatens to consume him, and he’s not sure which of the feelings is stronger. For one moment he can’t breathe. 

He hacks our a laugh, his skin straining. Something is shifting beneath his flesh, something ugly and dangerous. He needs to leave and he needs to do it quickly. 

“You’re right, we can’t,” he agrees, his voice a lot more steady than he feels. He feels the urge to grab you and shake you until you pass out. He feels the urge to suck out your life force until your body is an empty husk. He feels the urge to slam your head into the bathroom sink in the next room over. He feels the urge to shoot himself in the head, because he does not want to do any of that. 

“I love you,” you say, unexpectedly. Or maybe it’s not unexpected. You always say such stupid, brainless things. (You say it with sweetness. The only sweetness he can offer in return is the sweetness of bacteria digesting rotting meat. Is the flesh his, or will it be yours?) He laughs again. 

“I thought we were breaking up,” he says. Smirking, as if it’s funny. (It isn’t.)

“No, we’re really not,” you say firmly. He snorts. 

“Maybe we should.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you come closer. 

Get away, he thinks. Run, you fucking idiot. 

You don’t have many flaws, but the ones you do have are insurmountably big. You are too forgiving, you are too kind, you are too selfless, you are too naive. You will kill yourself doing this one day. You will let him kill you.

Your arms wrap around him. He can’t help but relax. The thing lurking under his human disguise grows more restless. 

“I don’t hate you,” you say, unexpectedly. And this one really is unexpected, because what made you say that? Your arms squeeze around him tighter. “I thought I was being obvious enough about that, but you’re so bad at understanding it.”

The feeling he has is the same as the feeling he gets when he realises a deal is going awry. You are the highest risk stakes he has ever made a bet on: will he ruin you, or will you ruin him? What you could do to him is so much more serious than death. He knows that he is holding a losing hand. He doesn’t even know what he stands to win.

You kiss his neck. He shudders. 

“Why are you so scared of me?” you ask. 

Scared? He is not scared. What an outright laughable concept. Neither of you are scared, but if one of you was, it should be you, but you aren’t, for some reason.

“What gives you that idea?” he chuckles, but his voice is not as steady this time, and he can feel his smile slipping. (What is wrong with him? He doesn’t want to think about it. The answer is always ‘everything’.)

“Your hand is shaking.”

It is, but that is not because he is afraid. Fear is a human response, borne from the desire to live. It is instinctual. It means kicking and screaming, it means clawing your way out of hell for the chance to see another day, it means fighting for the life you don’t want to end. He cannot die, you see. Death cannot occur twice. Just because his body reacts, that does not necessarily mean he can truly fear any longer.

(Then again, maybe his reaction does not come from the thought of his death.)

“I’m not scared,” he says, and his voice sounds a lot weaker than he had expected. You pull him closer, cradling his head against the crook of your neck. His blood is pulsing too quickly.

“It would be okay if you were,” you murmur. “I know you don’t know how to be loved. That’s okay. I’ll teach you. You just have to let me.”

Squash. Slice. Tear.

Maybe you are the monster. He can feel your claws prying his chest open; he can feel your teeth dig into his flesh; he can feel something that is not air fill his lungs. The biggest difference between you and him is that he devours, while you give. You painfully shove something back into the cavity meant to contain his soul, you pump blood back into his system, and you fill whatever gaps are left in him with something that is first cold but quickly warms. 

(He realises, belatedly, that something is pumping inside his chest again. But it can’t be a heart, can it? He lost that so long ago.)

“I’ll kill you,” he manages through gritted teeth, claws digging into your shirt. It is not a threat. It is not a warning. It is just the truth.

“You think too much,” you admonish him. Your tone is as gentle as your words are cutting. “I wish you would trust me more. You’re so determined to ruin your own life, and I don’t like it.”

“That’s just how I am. Deal with it or leave.”

“I’ll deal with it, then.”

Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. He will destroy you. But you accept it. 

He has tried time and time again to push you away, but he is weak. So incorrigibly weak, and though your flaws are insurmountable, his are all-consuming. He is a monster in all the ways that matter. But you stubbornly will not leave despite that. 

(Maybe that makes him a little more willing to try to change his nature. Just a little. Just for you. If you will not leave anyways, maybe he could try to make his presence a little less torturous.)

“Just… please stop ignoring me,” you sigh, nuzzling into his hair. Tenderly, tenderly, tenderly, so tenderly it makes his skin crawl. Your claws are softly piercing into him and he is helpless, unable (unwilling) to fight back. “I can deal with everything else. I just hate it when you do that. I can’t keep going weeks without speaking to you. I know you have some kind of… weird ideas that I’d be better off without you, but that’s not true. I love you, and I love being around you. I can’t help you when you cut me off at every corner.”

Cut, slice, slash.

Something in him breaks. Something he knows cannot be salvaged. Something he knows you would not want to salvage. Something he is not sure if he wants to salvage either, now that it is broken anyways.

He breathes a shaky breath, his fingers — his fingers, not claws, not this time — digging into your back. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and he does not feel the urge to bite down. Though his eyes feel wet, it would not be enough water to drown you. 

He knows your line of logic is wrong. He knows the fact remains unchanged: he is a monster of a man. He will ruin you. But maybe your presence sparks enough electricity to keep his heart pumping, just for a little while, and maybe he can wait until things actually start going downhill before he lets you go. Maybe he can remember how to be a human for a bit, maybe he can pretend he is. 

“I just… don’t want to do something I can’t take back,” he whispers. “Not with you. You’re the… the only good thing I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if I…”

“That’s sweet, but I’m not as weak as you think I am,” you reply. “I’ve held out this long, haven’t I? Put more faith in me.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

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My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3 Also reblogs are EXTREMELY appreciated the final push I needed to finish this was from a very kind individual who reposted and analysed my writing I've been riding that high ever since they did that ily bro

[hughmanbean]

The Nurturing Queen and the Greedy Duke

Credit to @sky00asara in this post for this idea I love guys who are moms (if you get what I mean) This will follow the same rough story beats but will still have a little of my own flair.

The Nuturing Queen, Mother of the Wandering Princess and Erratic Prince, has been said to provide protection and inspire devotion to all who come across her. Praised as Balance and Duality personified, she is a large influence and very commonly mentioned in every scroll, book, art piece, and all magic artifacts that Constantine has seen. He's heard from so many beings of how great she is, her feats, and her being the largest connection between the Unknown Realms and Earth.

Here comes the problem. The Nurturing Queen has an enemy who's been around just as long as she has, who's also been seen not long after wherever she goes, chasing her trail and lurking. The Greedy Duke. He wishes to have her as his own, and take the throne to himself, subsequently plunging the Unknown Realms into chaos. Whenever he confronts the Nurturing Queen, legendary battles commence, and he is beat back.

But now, things are going wrong. The Lazurus Pits have been reported as acting, well, erratic. The Erratic Prince, some beings say, has been seen discussing things with the Greedy Duke. They fear his loyalties may not lie with his family.

A shift has been felt in the magics community. Unknown Realms Beings have ventured into Earth, either out of curiosity or to wreak havoc. Now, at the watchtower, JLD work out how to summon a being and demand to know what's going on, the rest of the Justice League desperate.

When they finally do summon one, they're launched into the Unknown Realms as an answer, told to "Find our Queen" as the being dissappears. They're on a floating island in a green void.

[tommygotwrittenoff]

bobby says to eddie one shift where buck is home sick with chris. going home to see your boys? eddie smiles and says. yeah. and your boys just Sticks in eddies brain and when he gets home he sees chris and buck curled up on the couch asleep and the sight makes him pause cuz. yeah. those are his boys

[ratatatastic]

Vanha Kauppahalli date: en full, a 2 minute 50 second masterpiece...

Primetime Panthers | 11.6.24 (x)

[weezerlvr228]

i love this photo sm they’re so cutie

[keirientez]

aug - early sep log

[oneluckydragon]

So I decided to spin the wheel by @onefey since I saw so many mutuals getting really cute PMD Teams.

Meet hero Lucky (Girafarig) and partner Biggs (Wimpod). Never in my life have I considered a Girafarig as my potential PMD-sona but here we are despite it all. Even though I was skeptical at first I am now in permanent love.

Gotta think of an Exploration Team name now... hm.

[danothan]

Just reading some comics and saw a panel I thought you might like. :)

ah fuck, characters reminiscing always get to me ;__;

but i will never ever get over that fond way these two talk to and abt each other. especially when they’re poking fun, you can just hear the love in their voice it’s SICK.

the halbarry love language is annoying each other, but even more than that, it’s being each other’s exceptions

[spitblaze]

when heterosexuals do literary analysis of works in which queerness and the persecution thereof are major themes which they just completely skip over or call 'confusing relationships'

[trickstersaint]

Hi! I've just stumbled across your 'patron saint'-quiz and I love it! 🖤 The way you put the answers to the questions is flawless, especially the 'heart'-question and the afterlife-question, not to mention the results! One gets the impression that you really put your heart in this quiz. My results are eerily fitting - same for a friend who I made take your quiz as well.👍 I'm wondering whether it is possible to read the other result texts somewhere as well? (Or would I have to play through the quiz again with some different educated guesses?) Thanks for creating this quiz and all the best for you. 🫂 Enjoy the day/night 🤗

hi!!!! so glad you like the quiz!!!! i definitely had a lot of fun making it, and it's been really fun seeing people's reactions to it too :)

happy to share the other results! putting them below <3

[moeblob]

Rey, who is in my very biased opinion, one of the funniest "girls" I have because she's just a guy, truly. Like Rey is just short for Reynold because he was recruited by a a goddess to help the hero she selected and the hero is conveniently Reynold's younger brother. So he agrees to help under the condition that the goddess gives him a female body for the other world. She's like "really odd flex but whatever" and gives him a female form and he's like "you know. I can't really blame anyone but myself for not specifying 'please don't turn me into a Lisa Frank personification'."