#and y'all are gonna suffer with me

[jula483]

6 years between those two pics. SIX.

x / x

[personallbest]

literally every gifmaker with common sense: do not gif lower than 720p, it won’t look good

me who can’t find a better quality of maisie singing mp: 🙈🙉

[crystalflygeo]

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Bittersweet ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Leave me alone!” You scream.

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”

Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.

“I don’t belong to you!”

He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.

“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”

The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.

“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.

Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.

How had things ended up like this?

You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…

And hasn’t been for who knows how long…

Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.

He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.

It's so cruel.

“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.

Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”

Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.

You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”

You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.

Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”

He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.

Home.

Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.

Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

[fromtheseventhhell]

"I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? | Jon VI

--metaphorical knives at feigning neutrality regarding his sister

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold... | Jon XIII

--literal knives from breaking that neutrality to save her

[mikakuna]

actually the thing that pisses me off when fandom talks about the titans tower incident isn't even just that people wildly misinterpret/overreact to it, but that they only care about it because it happened to tim

half the other unhinged shit jason has done towards heroes (beautiful and spectacular) is like. never brought up. the titans tower incident is just tim fans' way of angsting up their blank canvas

[enstars-syndrome]

guess who listened to a certain mitski song for 1 hour 21 minutes again

[sincerely-sofie]

After 4+ years of wanting a pet… I'm now waiting on the arrival of some supplies so I can set up an enclosure for my future child… I’m picking out names for them atm… I’m gonna cry… it’s finally happening…

[peanut-with-wifi-access]

i want to watch Alastor suffer through Redemption. I want this road to being lined with burning coals that everyone is forced to drag him across together. I want him to suffer to earn it. I want everyone else to have to deal with it. I want kicking and screaming and Alastor trying to do so much evil to try and convince them he's a lost cause.

I don't want an easy happy ending.

Good thing neither does the show.

[ghoulbrain]

i finished the draft for the first chapter of my medieval fantasy ghoulcy fic and i just hope folks are ready for this to become my entire personality. preview under the cut!

The walk was littered with blackened torches, this part of the dungeon rarely patrolled. Maximus continued until he was at the end–the last cell. It was silent inside. He glanced at King Henry, who nodded solemnly, his own eyes focused on the darkness. He lifted his torch through the bars, partially illuminating the pitch black cell.

A figure laid flat on the floor at the edges of the light, face covered by a weathered wide brimmed hat. Their hands were folded over their sternum, their ankles crossed. Their cloak was splayed beneath them in a tattered mess, the fabric crawling across the stone floor like reaching tendrils. They wore a pauldron on their shoulder that boasted long, sharp spines. Their armor was so dark, it didn’t glint in the firelight. It swallowed it. 

There was no fog of breath, no sign of life within the figure. Maximus felt a chill of nervous anticipation roll up his spine. While ghouls were aplenty, an affliction of the cursed magic surrounding the kingdom of Vaultence, there was only one entity that was referred to solely as The Ghoul, and for the first time in his life, Maximus was looking directly at him.

King Henry stepped forward, cloaked in heavy furs to abate the chill of the dungeon. “Rise, Ghoul,” he said, standing closer to the bars than Maximus was comfortable with.

There was no answer. The figure did not move.

The king’s lips pursed. “I know you can hear me.”

Deep laughter echoed in the darkness. Slowly, stiffly, as if reanimating from death, the Ghoul rose into a sitting position, hand catching his hat to slide it atop his bald head, turning to look at them. It took everything in Maximus not to wince at the sight of him.

The Ghoul’s eyes were deep set, pitch black in the shadows cast by the fire. His skin was dry and gnarled, lips pulled in such a way that his yellowed teeth were perpetually on display. In the center of his face, a great black hole served as his nose.

“Well, well, well…” The Ghoul drawled in a low oily voice. He had the accent of a man from the Outer Ring of the kingdom, where the livestock and crops were farmed. “How long’s it been this time, Hank?”

[lyramundana]

Logically speaking, he knows he's being stupid.

He has no reason to feel the way he does. She's nothing more than a friend to him. No, scratch that, they're not even friends, just acquaintances. Forced to be together and get along by circumstances. Sometimes he's sure they don't even like each other.

And yet..

He watches her having fun with the other group. Not surprising, considering she's been working with them too and they're all around her age, so they definitely have a lot to talk about. They make her laugh, they finish each other's references, they don't argue. He doesn't recall seeing her this carefree with him, this relaxed. She's always tense in some way when he's around, like a cat with her claws out and ready to pounce. This shouldn't matter to him, of course, since they're only together for a work project and he doesn't need her company

And yet..

He sees one of them sliding his arms around her shoulders to pull her closer and she chuckles, not bothering to push away. And something in him screeches. His finger clench around his pants when another guy pushes strands of hair out of her face, caressing her cheek in the process, and she just thanks him with a smile. She doesn't seem to the mind the skinship. He feels a pit of anger forming in his gut the the more he watches. Which isn't really different from what he feels on the daily with her, except this time it's directed at those boys. His co-workers, no less.

He has no reason to feel like this. It sounds too much like something that's impossible. He has Jisung, and he knows he loves the boy as much as he did yesterday, and the day before. There's no way he's feeling these things for someone else, a girl with whom he can't spend so much as five minutes in the same room without arguing.

And yet..

He can't stop looking. And the anger grows more into that familiar green that becomes harder to ignore. He feels the urge to scoff as the display, at how friendly she is with others when she hasn't even given him a glance since she arrived. The fucking nerve.

Deep down, he knows he's being stupid, irrational.

And yet...

Taglist: @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @sweetracha @moonlightndaydreams @noellllslut @linlinaert @mal-lunar-28 @queenmea604

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Dust to Dust

An angsty drabble focused on Dream to celebrate reaching 100 followers. This has not been beta read but I briefly skimmed through it for mistakes. This was written in one sitting, & may be fast paced as I was very high energy while writing it. Trigger warning for character death! Happy reading!

At first, Dream doesn't even notice that his brother has stopped attacking. With all the chaos going on around him, attacks flying from every angle & shouts coming from different directions, it's not a surprise.

So Dream keeps fighting, not stopping until he's startled by a loud cry from Killer. "Boss!" A little shaken, Dream looks around himself quickly to make sure no one is sneaking up on him before looking towards where the yell had come from.

He spots Killer easily, seeing him crouched over...Nightmare? That can't be right though, Nightmare was just attacking him moments ago! It has to be some kind of trick, he thinks to himself.

But as the moments pass & the fighting dies down as more people start to notice what's going on, Dream starts to worry.

Had he actually hurt his brother? Why wasn't Nightmare getting up? He'd walked off Dream's arrows before, why was this one any different?

Dream stumbles towards where Nightmare lay, now surrounded by the gang that his brother had collected, subconsciously. He doesn't pay attention to his teammates yelling for him to come back to them, nor his brother's followers yelling at him to stay away.

The only important thing is that none of them try to stop him as he approaches, falling to his knees & putting both of his hands on Nightmare, bow long having dissipated from his lack of concentration to keep it from fading away.

Shaking his brother's shoulder slightly, as if that would make him sit up & say that it was all some horrible joke to make him feel bad, Dream whispers out a broken, "B-Brother?"

But there's no response, not even a groan or a twitch to show that Nightmare was even still alive. He had to be though, Dream couldn't have actually killed him, right? This was all some big trick, or maybe a bad dream, as ironic as that would be.

As unaware as he is, it takes a moment for Dream to register the body beneath his hands starting to dust, parts of his brother drifting away in the slight breeze slipping between the monsters surrounding them both.

Dream starts to tear up at this, a sob building as he frantically tries to stop it, to no avail. Muttering senselessly under his breath, drops of liquid magic drip down his cheeks as his hands & forearms become covered in more & more dust. "No no no no no-"

Panicked as Dream is, he doesn't register the whispers around him, both his own teammates & Nightmare's muttering about what was going on. Had Dream truly defeated his brother once & for all? It certainly seemed so.

Unable to contain it any longer, he bends down until his skull is resting against Nightmare's body & lets out a scream of anguish, fists clenching around nothing as the arm they previously clung to faded into dust.

Dream screams for as long as he can, panting for breath between sobs as his tears hit the dusting body of his brother below him, mixing with the dust & causing it to clump. As he tries to regain his breath, he finally registers the sharp pain all over his body & looks down...

Oh. It would seem that he was dusting as well.

Dream has the sudden urge to scream again, but can't seem to find the energy as he slumps over Nightmare's partially dusted body.

Perhaps this was his punishment for killing his twin, the one that he had grown up with & known for both of their lives. Perhaps this was mercy, allowing him to be with his brother again & not forcing him to live without the other.

Whichever it was, Dream had little time before he could no longer think, the pain of his body dusting away while still conscious consuming him. Before long, the only thing that remained of the two was a pile of dust & a single golden circlet resting peacefully on top.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

i've said this before but listen, as someone who keeps up with leaks it is INCREDIBLY difficult to not start screaming about Arlecchino. i know this is a Foul Legacy blog but oh my goddddddd

[riolone-moon]

I'm planning to draw 2 ideas I had but omg it's so painful. I finished one of sketches and I'm crying

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I am at 59k on this Ninjago fic i swear I'll finish it this month I will work on nothing else I am going to finish this--

[dirtytransmasc]

Do you think that alicent rhaenyra and haelena suffer from mental health?

Alicent is most certainly mentally ill from the moment she is married off to viserys, while I think Helaena is neurodivergent, not necessarily mentally ill until after Blood and Cheese. Rhaenyra is more complicated, I think there were times she was faced with mental illness, I think there also times she was not and that these times were greater. (this is all within the show, I'm not sure about the books)

Alicent was being raped and forced to bear children from a very young age, that is so much pain and suffering, so much trauma to go through. from a young age she is shown to have a lot of signs of ptsd, anxiety, ppd (postpartum depression) especially after Helaena is born, it seems, and depression. there are few moments she seems truly happy and at ease, constantly worn by stress. I don't think she ever recovered from those early years, and she remains mentally ill until the end, where it festers in the aftermath of the end of the war, and she dies of insanity.

Helaena definitely came off as autistic to me, even in her little screen time. I won't discredit the possible trauma of her father's neglect or being married off to Aegon (though there is no proof he is abusive or forceful upon her, she was married off to someone some could say she did not love and did not love her), she seems mostly unaffected by this. I think her mental illness will come into play after B&C and the loss of her children.

Rhaenyra is the most complicated to me. we don't really see the aftermath of her births, so I can't say if she experienced any ppd/ppp, she might have, she might not have. she lived a relatively easy life outside of her mother's death, which did seem to cause some depression while she was young, but she seemed to move on from that in time. she does seem to have some depression and anxiety during her time at the keep, the stress weighing on her, but it never seemed to be as constant or heavy as Alicents (not to downplay, just to give a comparison). after the loss of her daughter is would be beyond cruel to deny that she would sink into a depression. she miscarried horribly essentially alone to a deformed stillborn little girl. miscarrying on it own is horrific and traumatizing, but the circumstances make it even more horrific. so while there are instances she shows signs of mental health issues, I don't believe she was wholly afflicted until after she lost Visenya.

this just my opinion on the matter, and I will give Rhaenyra credit by saying she was definitely very good at keeping up her wits and appearances, so finding moments of "weakness" or mental illness are definitely harder to spot, especially when the show tends to shy away from showing her low points and panders to her moments of strength.

[browntrait]

good afternoon besties, i quit my job