#and he's DEEPLY traumatized

[wylstarion]

In my Dammon headcanon he's the oldest son of one of the most renowned artificers in Elturel. He spent his whole life watching his mother work the forges, fascinated with how she crafted such beautiful weaponry and armor for the hellriders that protected Elturgard. He was tinkering with hammers and blacksmith tongs basically as soon as he could walk. His mother taught him everything he knows, and it was her knowledge and influence alone that allowed his life to be spared when their city fell into the hells.

Dammon and his mother watched as his father was murdered by fiends, and his four younger siblings conscripted to fight in the blood war. Only his mother and him were spared warfare, conscripted instead into working in the forges because of their knowledge of weaponry. His mother was considered more valuable for her knowledge of infernal machinery, and she was taken to help design new war machines for Zariel's efforts.

He suffered torment at the hands of his infernal captors. Working in infernal forges was brutal. Dammon knew little rest in the time he spent there, he was fed only enough to keep him working, and though he was surrounded by other conscripted workers, they were forbidden to speak to one another. In Avernus, Dammon was tortured, overworked, and isolated.

When Elturel rose again, his mother risked her own life to see his freedom. She knew that she herself was too valuable to Zariel for her to ever allow her escape, but she found a way for Dammon to return, despite all odds. Dammon felt like a monster when he left her behind. The memories of his family haunt him, he feels responsible for their deaths. He feels responsible for his mother still being trapped in Avernus. (he's got MAJOR survivors guilt).

Only days after the city was restored, Dammon was exiled by his own people. He felt anger, shame, betrayal. He had suffered so much already, now being forced to abandon the only home he had ever known. He was to leave his whole life behind, his whole family behind. He could only take what he could carry, and he felt bitter that he would never see his mother's forge again, the very one he had trained with since he was a child. He felt angry that out of everyone he loved, he was the one who survived. He was angry at himself for being unable to do more to help them. He felt alone, weak, and betrayed. He had lost every person he loved, powerless against the forces who took them from him.

[yrlocalghost]

man i love flowey so much, i don’t think i ever realized just how funny he is when i was a teenager. i love that he save scums. i love that he gets mad when you interrupt his monologue. i love that he talks like an anime villain because he thinks frisk is chara and is playing the world’s longest game of edgy oc playground roleplaying. he has the strongest cain instinct i have ever seen. he projects like crazy. he is an incredibly sore loser. i love him

[fandomfairyuniverse]

I love fadel so much like this man really thought having sex with style would make him leave him alone. That he got it out of their systems and everything’s fine now. But instead style is just going to be even more obsessed with him AND he is going to have a harder time resisting because he Knows. He knows what it’s like to have style. It’s not a fantasy anymore. My guy put the nail in his own coffin

[genderqueerpond]

We don't talk enough about the fact that Amelia Pond, s5 Amelia Pond, before the timeline is reset, isn't just a normal orphan. Her parents didn't die, didn't abandon her, and didn't send her away. They never existed in the first place.

And if her parents never existed, then Amelia cannot exist. She is a causal impossibility.

"People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces." A photograph. A face carved into an apple. Yes. Sure.

A child.

Now that's too big, surely.

But that's what she is. She is exactly the same as these things. A trace. An echo of something that could never be, never was, never could have been.

And the universe should never allow it. A whole person, that's just too much. She could not have continued to exist indefinitely, in normal circumstances, after her parents never existed.

In normal circumstances.

Because the Doctor didn't just save her from things coming out of the crack in her wall. He saved her from going into it. And he didn't just save her from the threat of going into it simply because of its vicinity.

No, by arriving when he did, he interrupted a process that was probably already in motion. And then by arriving again only moments later on a cosmic relative timestream (too quickly for the process to complete) and yet in the local relative timestream, years later --- years of a potential future caught midway through the process of rewriting -- he solidified that existence. Amy is a creature from another timeline, caught in amber. The Doctor prevented her from never existing, but only after she could already never exist.

And so, no one around Amelia thinks about it. Neither does she. There's some kind of consciousness block, because if you thought about it, really thought about it, for two seconds you'd realize she cannot exist. And the human mind can't deal with that. So, to protect itself, everyone's brain simply slides off it before ever noticing. They just assume that her existence makes sense, and don't question it, and don't notice what they don't question, that is staring them in the face.

But of course, to some extent they do notice. They can't think it, but they notice subconsciously that there's something they can't think. They notice there's something wrong with her, something uncanny. And they don't like it, and they alienate her even more because of it.

"Does it ever bother you Pond that your life existence doesn't make any sense?"

[op-dumpstertruck]

BABY NO 3??? BESTIE—

There'll also be baby number four 🙈🙈 But Sanji is completely done after that. (My whole reason for that is that I felt like Sanji deserves to have Zoro for at least one pregnancy his side-)

[heph]

It's so interesting how submissive House is to Wilson. In basically every scene where Wilson gives his 2 cents about a case, House without fail (for the most part) follows his opinion. Wilson gives him unsolicited advice and half the time he listens without saying anything, and the other half he argues but ends up listening to him anyway. House starts psychoanalysing Wilson and Wilson does it right back to him and House shuts the fuck up or gives a one line quip back at him (to have the last line) but knows deep down Wilson is right.

For a man of House's stature and how he interacts with Literally Everyone Else, the writers really hammer it into your soul that House only really listens to Wilson and no one else

[bug-bites]

thinking abt simon "ghost" "acts of service" riley

like in my head he isn't too fond of physical touch. he wont burst into tears and start crying and shaking if you hug him but its very much reserved for the very few people who are close to him. its not that he's scared of it or it makes him super uncomfortable, its just he has other ways of showing people he loves them!

he's the type of guy who when you're getting to know him, listens and remembers every detail you tell him, and makes mental notes of your dislikes and likes w/o you having to tell him.

he takes cold showers every day and when you ask him he just tells you "its better, wakes me up in the mornings" but its really because he knows you like taking hot showers from all the times he's walked into the washroom once you're done and noticed the mirror all fogged up from the steam. he just wants to make sure you dont run out of hot water

in a passing conversation you mention feeling a bit sick, maybe its the change in weather or your allergies acting up but you just really are hoping it isnt a cold. simon doesnt say much but later you find a small ziploc baggie of peeled orange slices with a sticky note with your name on on it

when you go out together and you're a little underdressed for the weather he notices the goosebumps on your arms and how you constantly are rubbing them with your hands, trying to subtly warm yourself from the friction. you dont do a good job however because he glances at you and lets out a small sigh

"what did i say before heading out" "bring a jumper..." you mumble in response "and what did you do?" he crosses his arms over his chest but he isn't mad or annoyed, not in the slightest "not bring a jumper"

it feels like you're on the verge of being lectured but simon just rolls his eyes and gestures you to follow him. you're lead to his car and he opens the trunk, tossing you a black zip up sweater. he's scolding you somewhat, saying that "this is why you're getting sick" and other nonsense and you're lucky he "forgot" to take that sweater out of the trunk or boot because hes bri'ish. you happily take it and put it on because you're not about to turn down a sweater when you're freezing also its from simon and it just looks so comfy! it's definitely big on you because lets face it, simon is built like an industrial freezer, but the material is soft and cozy, with the added bonus of smelling like him. you thank him for the sweater and carry on with your day, not thinking much of it. truth is, however, he always has that extra sweater in his car for you. makes sure its there before you two go anywhere, neatly folded and tucked into the back. he would never admit it though he's such a pussy

when asked about his little favours he does for you he constantly pulls excuses from his ass, saying its just a coincidence that he had those things or literally anything to hide that he goes out of his way to do it for you. he cares about you, he actually cares a lot about you but he's just a tiny bit embarrassed to admit it. he loves you so much but he doesn't want you to think he's like kicking his legs and giggling over the thought of you even though he probably has at some point but you dont need to know that

he thinks he's sooooo subtle and sneaky about it but when you fall asleep and you wake up with a sweater over top of you like a blanket that a) you are 100% sure doesn't belong to you and b) has "S. Riley" written in sharpie on the tag (with a tiny skull doodle next to it), theres no way in hell you can be oblivious to how much he cares about you.

[dsmp-lainey]

few things in this world haunt me like the fact that my favorite teacher in highschool used to let me watch youtube videos on his computer after school, which meant his whole recommended feed became hermitcraft, dsmp animatics and tommyinnit videos, which meant everytime he played videos for my class they would show up as recommended on the side bar.

it became a discussed fact that our 50+ year old history teacher who wore suits everyday must be into minecraft youtube, and i was too humiliated to spill the truth and defend his honor… still to this day like 95% of my graduating class just accepts that narrative as truth.

[ormymarius]

*slaps Caleb’s ass* this bad boy can fit so many psychological disorders in him

[mmelolabelle]

Exclusive first look at Daniel Molloy and Lestat de Lioncourt in AMC’s Interview With the Vampire season 3.

[the-crooked-library]

"Louis and Armand were still in love in Dubai!!" "Louis and Armand never loved each other!!" - no. it's worse. they were on the precipice of something good, but Armand couldn't recognize that, so he ruined everything they had, right when Louis had actually come to love him. the love was there for a fleeting moment and it was ruined irreversibly, never to return, even after decades they'd spent together out of desperation and spite. it's worse and that's the point

[ofallthingsnasty]

tw: yandere, kidnapping/basement spousery, depression, mentions of noncon, gn reader characters: Crocodile, Sanji, Doflamingo, Law word count: 1.3k

One thing I learned recently is that I'm definitely a social creature and would get horribly, horribly depressed as someone's basement wife, even a well entertained one. All the books, the crafts, the soft music in the world couldn't prevent me from sobbing into my pillows, couldn't get me to crawl out of bed and to paint a smile on my face. Oh, but how would your captor react? For some, it's definitely a necessary evil - Crocodile comes to mind here. Annoyed by your lethargy, by your random tears and your meek, taciturn responses, he finds himself frustrated at times. This state of mind really isn’t ideal - he wanted you docile, sure, but not lifeless. Yet it's also awfully convenient when you just let him push you around, let him caress and touch you - and not out of fear of him, simply because you don't care to struggle. He discovers that he can forgive a lot when you're especially shaken and cling to him, bury your head in his chest because he's the only human you'll ever know again and the world is so bleak around you and you just need him right now. Of course, it would be nicer if you didn't do it because he's the only warm-blooded creature that you interact with, but he'll take what he can get. (And with time, it weirdly grows on him: him turning into the center of your life, the way your eyes seem to light up the tiniest bit when he comes home to you, something he thought mildly annoying at first turning out to be awfully convenient.)

To others, it's devastating. Sanji lives for your smiles, your warmth, the way your eyes crinkle and you jut your head forward when you fully, genuinely laugh - total apathy is worse than antagonism to him. If you were to scream, shout, put your fingers around his neck and squeeze with the desperation of a cornered prey animal, he'd at least get a reaction, some signs of life out of you. But you don't even do that. You just sit and try to suppress tears while he holds your hand. Sometimes he just cries with you, letting himself fall into the same hole you're being pulled into. It makes him regret taking you so utterly, bitterly, makes him feel all those memories from when he was a child bubble up in his stomach until they force themselves out and he has to vomit to be rid of them. He’s just like his father, he thinks, and it makes him sick. He’s rotten down to the very core, cursed from birth and now he has gone and soiled you, too - he’ll end up sobbing into the crook of your neck more than once, full of genuine remorse. And all you’ll be able to do is absentmindedly pat his hair, thoughts spilling like an knocked over ink well. No, you slipping into a deeply depressive state is only going to worsen the hatred he has for himself, is going to poison him slowly and steadily until he’ll be in agony. Maybe it’s his just punishment.

Then there are the ones like Doflamingo who simply don’t care. You don’t crawl out of bed until noon? You just stare into space or bury yourself in books when you finally do? You’re just lifeless by his side, just blink, shrug your shoulders when spoken to, just exist? Whatever, he has always treated you like a doll from the start. He can even weather the elusive bouts of sobbing and crying (even if he hates it when they happen), because most of the time you’re just his poseable thing and he is nothing if not generous to allow you a tantrum here and there. He doesn't feel bad about you being a more of a hollowed out shell of a person than a fully-fledged human with a rich inner life and doesn't care that most of it is his fault - his fault that you fester and rot beneath the surface, his fault that all the opulent, vibrant clothing and the scorching hot days by the pool still leave you frosty and weirdly bloodless, like a cold-blooded creature in winter. Food is ash in your mouth and only sours your stomach but you still eat when he tells you to, touches feel foreign and loveless but you still let him fuck you if he so wishes. Why should he care what circles around in your head when he gets to do anything he wants to you? That you feel like life is no luster, only desperation? The truly bothersome parts are taken care of by his myriad of servants and the family. Messes left behind get cleaned up, baths are forced on you regularly, as are grooming sessions. If you don’t get dressed on your own either someone else will see to it or he will - and he’ll have his payment for his time, trust me. The solemn mood, the non-existent smiles… he doesn't care for that. You’re not here for your entertainment, you’re here for his. And you just accepting your fate and letting him do whatever it is he wants… That’s just perfect, isn’t it?

Of course, let’s not forget about the ones who secretly love it. Law is a prime example, especially with his medical background. He isn’t surprised that your mood sways - he expected as much when he restricted your every move, declared the outside world to be too unhealthy for you. Of course you’d slip into a depressive episode. And it’s not a flaw, it’s intentional. Because now - now, when you can’t peel yourself out of bed, when everything feels too much, when you can’t feed or move or dress or take care of yourself- he gets to swoop in. He gets to do it for you, gets to tell you that he’s here and that he’ll always catch you when you fall. That his assessment of your condition was accurate - that you always needed him, right from the start. Dependency is worth more than all the love in the world to him. It simply doesn’t matter if you’d rather slit his throat than to behave for him out of your own volition - as long as you can’t leave. Even if he genuinely loves you, he’s not deluded enough to cling to daydreams of him and you living a quiet, happy life full of reciprocated affection, that ship has long sailed - sailed ever since his childhood got irrevocably destroyed. No. Love is nice and good and makes him wash you gladly, makes him care for you with delicate hands and with a patient brow - but your sickness makes you stay, renders you unable to leave him. It’s the only currency he can trade in when it comes to you. He’s your savior and tormentor rolled into one person; but above all he is the only one who cares and will forever care. You could rot yourself into a pathetic, sweat-soaked, disgusting corner, could turn into nothing but a husk and he’d always, always nurse you out of the ditch he’s found you in, just at the right time.  What he doesn’t tell you is that he could help you. At least artificially. Boost your moods with SSRIs until you bounce off the walls with nervousness and sweat thrice as much; make you giddy and shaky until you get used to the dose. Until the world seems worth living in once more, until at least some color returns to your drab eyes. He could get you the medication, even try some speech therapy, could help you like a good boyfriend should. But why? It makes no sense. Why help you only to get some fire back, maybe even for you to slip through his fingers? It’s easier to sit in twosome silence with tired eyes watching him, eyes that one day might be grateful for all the work he has put into them. Until then, it’s of utmost importance that they stay right where they are: in a cramped, dirty corner of a bed, dull and lifeless.

[nombitenary]

How did Chris's friend first react when he ate him? I mean his old roommate

"H-Hey man, this really isn't funny, a-and it's... it's fucking hard to breathe in here, Chris, get up!"

He didn't have the best time. Not exactly smart to make a joking deal with your roommate who has a penchant for eating people, especially when you're both high...

[greatpistachiopie]

he's a radish. he's just an old man. he's bishop raphaniel charlock

[futuremrscameron]

thank you drew starkey for being rafe’e number 1 understander

[empyreansentinel]

hey can we talk about how after angel accidentally kills her mother with a turret jack. continues to make her kill things. because. uhm.