#it’s in the middle of the Night okay

[chloesimaginationthings]

Jeff having his midlife crisis in FNAF into the pit

[wu-does-art]

coming out as a "Will snores obnoxiously loud" and "Nico breaths so quietly you can barely tell hes alive" truther

[mothmothwoth]

My horrible son Vyncent Sol who has every disease

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[somewhereincairparavel]

Jason knew. He knew, the moment Caligula's spear had passed through his course of vision. He knew that he was finally going let go. As the spear pierced through his body, Jason couldn't have been happier, it was all over. He was covered in a bed of fresh leaking blood, the life slowly ebbing out of him as his veins pulsated. He would never have to continue living his horrible life anymore. He could finally rest. Jason had nothing to hold on to anymore, his anchor had dropped finally losing its purpose. His best friend Leo was some place else Jason didn't know of, his good friend Reyna had stopped talking to him, the girl of his dreams had decided that he wasn't the one. What more was there to live for? Even as he heard the screams of Piper and Apollo, Jason did not fight the urge to die. His blue eyes were fixed on the sky, the same sky that he had come from. He knew his friends needed him, he knew they would all be devastated to lose him. yet this one time, he didn't think of them. he didn't hold it all together like he had done his whole life, he was selfless since the moment he arrived at the wolf house at the ripe age of two, always wanting to please others, never refusing to help anyone, yet, in his last breath, Jason Grace was finally selfish enough to think of himself, he didn't want to live his life for others anymore, he wanted to put his sword down finally and plunge into eternal peace. And that's what he did. Jason Grace's eyes fluttered shut. He even had the urge to smile, a genuine smile of relief. Jason Grace was finally going to eternal slumber, the soothing thoughts of reaching elysium had made the pain in Jason's body evaporate, and there was no coming back, yet the son of Jupiter was feeling the happiest he's ever felt.

[wigglesdtuff]

I would thrive if I healed, I can feel it in my heart And the peace of my mind is terrified of the light I'll never get there now

[everything-written-down]

This isn't a new or unique thought, but something that drives me absolutely bananas about the Ted Lasso writer response to Ted/Rebecca shippers being this condescending stance that it's so common and basic to do a romance between m/f leads and we've all just been ~socialized~ to want this, is that it actually ISN'T COMMON AND BASIC to see a romance between, first of all, two solidly middle aged people full stop, and two solidly middle aged people who are laden with grown-up, real-life baggage and whose relationship would have begun as a hard won and deeply authentic, joyful, and healing friendship, and probably a million more components that I'll think of after I post this. They of course were not legally obligated to do a romance but I absolutely beg of them to stop acting like Ted/Rebecca would've been dime a dozen because it would not.

[sitzendetaube]

Season 3, Episode 4, min. 56

Anthony describes Francis' dream as he's sleeping in his hideout under Kelsey's bed:

So my dad comes in asking for soda and I go to get him some ice cream, but instead I am holding the trophy and I'm seeing my reflection in it an I'm seeing BB like disentegrate in the reflection like I couldn't safe her somehow because we gave the wrong trophy and I knew this was the wrong thing to do and then I hand my dad the trophy full of ice cream and when I try to hand it to him, he's my mom and my mom is holding the severed head of the cop that she killed in one hand the shot gun in the other as she goes "you should have done this, YOU should have done this" and she hands me the shot gun and I start to point it towards my head and she goes "No, that's not what I meant, I meant you should be killing people" and I go oh okay cool and I kick open the door of the soda jerk shop and there are just like commies everywhere and I go IM GONNA MAKE YOU PROUD DAD and I start mowing commies down and I'm so fucking good looking and I [so cool bla bla] and I realize I am not wearing any clothes

(I, a non-native speaker, had to do this transcript myself, because there is no official one yet)

...

Soooooo I made a comic (?) out if that:

this was one big document, but I can't post it like that or the quality goes to shit :(

[rin-rin-comics]

made this way back when for the eyeshot au

it’s up on TikTok but I thought I’d post it here :p

[cheesomancer]

That beautiful scene from "Bred by the Wolfman" by @lyonnerileyauthor tho...

(Spoiler-ish ahead, slightly and humorously nsfw ig)

[moonshynecybin]

hi hello i'm back from the dead (temporary) and during the race yesterday. for the split second while marc was falling it seemed like he'd land right in front of the whole pack and now i need to dissect vale's reaction to that

oh my goooooood… okay FIRST we have to remember a few of things here. three pronged attack. 1. vale is hot girl repressed and has been convincing himself marc is the evilest motorcycle racer who ever lived for the better part of a decade, 2. the FACE he made when marc went FLYINGGGGG through the air last year at valencia (with jorge martin also crashing, this won pecco the title). like. okay! FUCK YOU! but. it also kind of pulls into perspective the fact that this IS a very normal part of the sport, and probably once marc got up and started moving (IT DID LOOK BAD THOUGH.) he was like okay hell yeah. protege wins second title. enemy crashed. ideal situation here.

3. my king is still SO fucking weird about injury in comparison to all these insane bitches and has been for a long time. but mostly post sic. he hates hearing about it, he CARES about the safety of himself and others, and he tries to instill that in those around him especially his large excitable homoerotic children. who never once listen to him. i’m THINKING of all of those riders safety meetings that he was at every goddamn race and would basically lead until sepang happened and he ghosted them for years either to avoid marc or as an impotent “protest” against racing direction. like he is VERY COMPLEX on this issue and he balances the plates of safety BUT he WILL let one drop if the grudge is there. and it’s there !! it’s been dropped !!!

so all of this to say. vale IS weird about injury. but he’s used to it. and he occasionally lets the petty streak shine the fuck through. so when something like that happens to MARC it’s all wrapped up in this. insane emotional cocktail i think (repression features here ! i really think it does !! tell yourself you hate him so if he gets injured WHICH HE WILL you care less !!!!). like he’ll cheer when marc crashes if it benefits his academy kid, but ALSO the most concrete step he ever took towards reconciliation was in 2016 after the rider in moto2 died, and he said that their feud wasn’t important in the scheme of something like that happening (SO much to think about like. he told the press and MARC that things had changed. amd that they could put it behind them but they really HADNT and he DIDNT.) so i think he has these flashes of concern and relief and doubt and resentment and WORRY alllllll of the time because marc does insane shit all of the time, but rarely does he let himself reach out about it… the resentment HAS to keep him warm at night so he ignores his better angels… i may care about you, but NEVER forget i still hate you….

[crimeronan]

i want homura to survive and grow old just so that she can get into her late 20s with all the emotional settling that accompanies that & realize she was dealing with the emotions of Being Fourteen for 12 STRAIGHT YEARS & be like "you are all actually so lucky that all i did was become a giant cunt and the actual devil. i probably apologized as part of my arc like a decade ago but everything i've ever done was 100% justified and i'm Not Sorry At All"

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

[napping-sapphic]

Haha it’s crazy how we’re both on tumblr right now like i wonder what else we have in common?? Like what if we both want to grow old together and go outside in the middle of the night night and dance in our yard or something hahaha…..👀

[navarice]

what i love so much about wei ying is how much he actually loves children. like he canonically is a good mentor/father figure and he wants to have kids of his own someday. it tears me apart inside thinking about how much he suppresses with jin ling because…that’s his shijie’s son, and in another world, he would’ve been the best uncle jin ling ever had. and with a-yuan being his “little one”, he was so heartbroken every time he thought a-yuan probably didn’t make it out of the burial mounds. in yi city, he was the ideal teacher: giving the disciples chances to figure out the solution for themselves and getting some hands on experience by guiding them on what to look for when night hunting…

lan zhan and wei ying’s dynamic with children is so special because anyone with half a brain can tell they care so much about all the kids they come across. truly after the war, with all the orphans and complicated family dynamics, to watch two people who mutually love and support each other through hell and back also simultaneously adopting every broken child is so healing, even when it doesn’t work out in the end.

[spaceytrash]

A young Benoit Blanc trying to internalize his life motto