#I really hope he lives through this

[vorpalmuchness]

thinking about Dick Hallorann's line where he says, "911 ain't the answer ma'am. I only wish it was. I only wish I was the one in trouble" after Danny shine calls him and how sometimes we wish we could take on the burdens of those younger than us.

[qimir-the-stranger]

We get it, Disney. We get it.

Star Wars is not for women.

Star Wars is not for Black people.

Star Wars is not for Asian people.

Star Wars is not for Queer people.

Star Wars is not for anyone who is marginalized and has different lived experiences.

Nope. Star Wars is ONLY for cishet white men. We hear you loud and clear. We know you don’t care about us at all.

[ohitslen]

Living together.

The snail video if you are interested :)

[somegrumpynerd]

Random hcs that have been on my mind for the past couple days: now in doodle format!

Text for each drawing written out under the cut in case it's not clear or anyone wants to translate it!

(1) <- Somehow soft?? <-Sometimes makes a comforting hum/rumble <-Holding for support

(2) <-Walks so quietly everywhere he goes <-Is about to meet god

(3) <-Can't see well in the dark (no eyelights) <-Can't help himself

(4) <-Thinks Color will turn Killer against him and convince him to run away

(5) <-Thinks Nightmare is using them all for the negativity and has brainwashed Killer into liking it

(6) <-Thinks if he runs and jumps at Cross as fast as he can Cross will lift him and it'll look so cool

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[moeblob]

North and Simon: (shaking hands on killing Simon potentially)

[canisalbus]

I've been following you for years, and I love your art. Seeing you repost your older art pieces reminded me how much I loved the angry, bitter, miserable Machete art and how it resonated with me... but a part of me is also so happy to see the current art of him being happy. Cute art of him as a unicorn, or chilling in a bathtub with Vasco. Like, we're all growing and healing :')

[julesart04]

[bumblydumbly]

insane how people act like charles is ‘the jealous one’ like edwin didnt spend the whole first episode screaming crying throwing up every time charles looked at crystal and not him

[corpsentry]

eulogy

[kiyomitakada]

impromptu meta at 2 — oh wait 1 in the morning thank you daylight saving time

the thing about light yagami is that we all know he is repression incarnate. and we also know that kira was born out of his desperate need to justify sort-of-accidentally killing two people. and so therefore kira isn't what light's repressing, not at the outset; kira is an extension of his repression.

and the death note and his need to hide it very quickly takes over light's life. so it's easy to say that light is light yagami on the outside and kira on the inside, and maybe light feels that way. but. kira is just as much a persona as light yagami. a more hidden persona, but still not the real him, whoever that is.

and the thing is that no one sees past that. ever. most people obviously fall for the charming boy act, but even the detectives — L, near, mello — god, even ryuk stops at part two. i think a lot about how L set up the mock execution because he thought that kira would have killed his own father if necessary. can you see light doing that? eighteen-year-old light yagami who said "if anything happens to you, dad — i'll see that kira gets the death penalty. i swear it."? remember when ryuk laughs at how good an actor he is afterwards and light doesn't look at him?

light never thinks kira is evil. even in yotsuba arc he acknowledges that they think very similarly, just that kira has gone too far. (ha, ha.) for all of death note light yagami is light yagami, who says if kira wins then kira is good, who has convinced himself he is doing the right thing. he gets frustrated when other people don't perceive him the same way — lind l tailor, misa killing police chiefs while pretending to be kira — but the anger has nowhere to go other than murdering more people.

light yagami is kira is light yagami. but L, ryuk, everyone doesn't manage to see through kira in the end.

and after L dies, well. no one will ever measure up to L, in light's eyes. he almost idolizes him in the weirdest way possible. so maybe, he thinks, if the only person in the world who could ever possibly see all of him (this isn't true, it's just what light believes) thought he was just a murderer, then maybe —

i think he hollows himself out in the second arc. in the anime he seriously considers killing sayu; in the manga he never does that but justifies his unwillingness to himself by saying that this way soichiro and light won't come under suspicion (they weren't going to in the first place). light doesn't really have a sense of self. L said he was evil and of course L is wrong — was wrong — will always be wrong — but isn't it easy to play into that stereotypically evil image of himself? especially after soichiro, his last moral compass, dies: isn't it easy to nullify misa's memories, to say she's not intelligent enough to be my partner, to kill kiyomi in the most painful way possible?

("light would have done the same things in the first arc!" sure. but not with that much callousness.)

it's just. it's tragic, you know? light has always pretended to be nicer than he is but he isn't the cold any-means-necessary person they thought kira was either. he is constantly playing someone he thinks he is but he can never escape being light, in the end.

does this make any sense do i sound insane

[llondonfog]

⚔ living weapon verse ⚔ | a friend and i have been tossing around an au where silver is a literal "living weapon"— he's been transformed into a sword due to being cursed by maleficent and forced to serve the many fae generals throughout the centuries who wield him. eventually, time finds him in the hands of the most recent general of the right, a certain lilia vanrouge :) there's so much more to this au and i hope that i can express more of it through upcoming drabbles. but in the meantime please enjoy this snippet below! <3

The water in the basin almost instantaneously rusts into an ugly, mottled brown, the kind of stinking, brackish water that Silver has only seen in the most polluted of swamps. It makes sense, he supposes, twitching his fingers idly beneath the surface to watch the resulting eddies with a glazed stare— he is a tool of and for destruction. There is nothing that remains sacred and innocent for something like him, not even the bathwater warm like a hearth against his phantom, aching bones. 

A clawed hand takes his chin and grips it firmly, the pressure a welcome distraction from the encroaching abyss sinking its poisonous tendrils into his mind. He allows it to guide him, unable to resist even if he wished, and it tilts his head up until his dulled gaze meets blazing crimson, the sight stirring a long-dead emotion in his still and silent heart. “Focus,” the general murmurs, and the order is a kindness, a mercy he knows he does not deserve. “Eyes on me.”

These simple, straightforward commands are part of their ritual, and Silver clings to them like the last anchor in a tempest-tossed sea. His handler’s hold on his chin lingers a moment longer, the fae eyeing him impassively to ensure his compliance as if it were possible for Silver to disobey, before removing itself to reach for the damp rag draped along the basin’s side. Silver mourns its loss like a child yearning for a comfort toy, but his features do not betray his thoughts. They do not betray much of anything at all, the need to emote drilled out of him from centuries of cruelty and callous objectification. After all, what does a sword need a smile for, what use is a blade that weeps?

Instead, he centers himself along the pain, one of the only constants he’s come to know as intimately as any true love. His handler is quick, another one of those unnecessary mercies, but thorough— the rag glides along his bruised and blood-stained skin, sweeping away the gory evidence of mere hours ago. Idly, Silver wonders if it would truly be so easy to wipe away the memories. To cleanse what is so ingrained within him: the dying wails of his own kind, the wet heat as he slices through their flesh and beating veins, the fear wide and white in their eyes. 

“Silver.”

His head snaps up, a dull burn of shame creeping beneath his skin as the fear of disappointing the fae, a compelling need sewn viciously into the very nature of his being as part of Maleficent's curse, floods his mind.

The general has paused in his ministrations, for how long Silver does not know, and instead is crouched by the basin’s side with an inscrutable expression on those delicate features. Without a word, he reaches out, and Silver’s eyes all but close as a passive tranquility spreads like treacle through his trembling limbs at the touch of those warm fingertips against the curse mark branded along the back of his neck. His handler need not look to find the recent addition of the bat flitting above the floral-wreathed sword emblazoned on Silver’s skin, and he feels the tips of those claws press lightly against it— he’s never heard of a curse mark changing over time, and he cannot forget the strange flash of possessiveness that flickered through the general’s eyes at the sight before being smoothly buried under his usual narrowed gaze. 

He cannot forget the odd churning of his heart when he first caught sight of it in the broken mirror hanging in the general’s tent. 

“Silver,” the general repeats, and Silver flushes at having drifted off once again. But instead, the fae brushes his thumb over the length of the curse mark, from the nape of his neck to the top of his spine, and stares at him like he’s something deserving of tenderness. 

“You did well today, boy. Rest now,” his handler’s hand shifts forward to cover his eyes, the darkness beneath his palm warm and inviting and nothing like the cold and miserable nothingness that Silver returns to when he’s outperformed his usefulness. Another kindness, for swords do not sleep, or eat, or drink— his body, what little humanity it has retained, no longer is tethered to such mortal requirements. But his general has given him an order, and a good weapon obeys the will of its handler. 

Silver sleeps— swords do not dream, but what else could it be, when he feels the ghost of lips brushing against his forehead?

[amethyst-marshmallow]

dude i just watched a mouthwashing playthrough and dude. like that was a horror game, but it wasnt a normal horror game. a normal horror game makes me jump and scream. This one? i was frozen. my eyes were wide with terror. i was cold, even though i was wearing a blanket. I was holding onto my blanket and i didnt even realize until it literally started hurting because i was holding on so hard. I cried at least twice. i was frozen in terror afterwards. I wasn't even playing the game yet i still felt everything. What the hell did I just see.

ok but seriously THE SOUND DESIGN?????????? SO good and it was SO terrifying. the breathing sounds and the sounds of curly taking the pills were so gross omg i am not the same person after hearing all that it was heart wrenching and soul crushing and dream shattering im going to rot away and turn into mold holy shit

Also normally i dont like nonlinear storytelling because its normally confusing to me but this one???? So good, it woudnt have worked linearly. the graphics also are good, its gory and gross and it couldn't be better. I'm terrified and might not sleep tonight. i love you daisuke and i fucknig hate you jimmy grrrrrr

[tblsomedoodles]

I thought i escaped sims 4 but it's dragged my dumbass back again.

I hate this game. I need so many mods just to be able to just to fix it so i can play without being frustrated. but no matter how frustrated i get, i keep coming back : /

Anyways! Like my new little me? (i forgot what they're called. Avatar? *Shrug*) I'll put some more stuff (and doodles) about them under the cut

They're a candle! The body and oversize hoodie are all the wax and the undercut ponytail is the little flame (like Ember from Danny Phantom lol). Her feet are kinda goopy and her hands never show b/c the sleeves of the hoodie drip over them (sometimes driping off completely.)

i got kinda bored with my old one (drawing me but purple) so they got a little upgrade for my silly little personal doodles.

That is all : )

[cluescorner]

I gave myself a writing challenge and I am fascinated by it

So basically I put the robins in a randomizer to give them a new order/role (because I just...kinda wanted to see what would happen + I like role-reversal AUs) and got results that are giving me a fucking brain blast.

Stephanie, the first sidekick who defines the role

Tim, the sidekick who dies and comes back wrong

Dick, the sidekick who saves Batman from himself

Damian, the sidekick who was never supposed to be a sidekick but would go on to prove everyone wrong

Jason, the youngest sidekick who is still the Kid Wonder

...So this is fucking wild. I've got some ideas and several of these fit perfectly (Dick's role is pretty similar to his one in canon), but some of these are fucking INCREDIBLE to explore (Steph being the first Robin is something I never even considered but tbh I kinda love it).

I probably won't write a fic or anything because tbh I don't like publishing my writing that much, but I might expand this into a full AU and post about it. I might randomize other stuff too (ie, stuff that I cannot change vs stuff that I cannot keep the same) but this fucking rules as a starting point.

[dailyicarus]

DAY 63

icarus is going on a little month-long summer vacation (so that i can focus on artfight <3) !! see you all in august when we return to our regularly scheduled programming !