#sure I’ll make that a tag

[pollyanna-nana]

Thistle’s last act was to revive Marcille.

Even while his desires were being fully consumed by the demon, he recognized the threat it posed and, in his final moments before ‘disappearing’, reached for Marcille’s hand. And in the process… seemingly revived her, given the winged lion’s reaction. Wagh…

Incidentally… this is also part of why Marcille and Laios say this in the second to last chapter. She needed to be revived to revive the rest of the party + break the seal on the demon (which also caused problems… but it all worked out in the end.) Man.

[mangoagate]

I had this idea that the Hotels first “little lights” were just other versions of herself, so here are her besties

[ustalav]

ohh

shepard: just one rotation? that’s odd… your record’s spotless and your technical scores are exemplary, you should’ve been serving with the fleet

ashley: … anyway, that’s why I haven’t served with many aliens, commander

🥲🥲🥲🥲

[notherpuppet]

@/coma_0423’s cursed cat alastor will bring you happiness ♥️

Lulu scolds the cat

[magic-worms]

catharsis (artist statement under the cut, read before reblogging)

i started this drawing to fill a niche. i’ve seen plenty of fanmade (and now canon) material of bill’s statue being vandalized or beat up on, but never so far as to damage it to the point of being unrecognizable. there were some very strong and specific feelings that drove the making of this piece, but ultimately they boiled down to my own personal need to see bill’s statue utterly destroyed by the one person who deserves it the most.

my coloring process was very dynamic- i didn’t have a set idea in mind for how i wanted the colors or lighting to look and most of my artistic decisions were made intuitively. by the end i’d subconsciously decided to set the scene to be very early in the morning, which is more fitting than i originally thought it would be; that and ford’s sweaty clothes and skin convey (i hope) that he’s been out in the woods alone all night, with the privacy to rage, yell, cry, whatever he needs to do to get his pain out as he turns what is left of his abuser into dust.

i don’t often write long statements like this to go with my art, and some of the above commentary i normally might have put in the tags, but in this case i wanted my thoughts and intent to be inseparable from the art itself. also forgive me if my writing sounds a bit disjointed, sometimes i have a hard time putting my thoughts into words

do not tag or treat this as b.llf.rd or i will block you. EDIT: if you post/repost b.llf.rd at all just dni actually

[jiauro]

Heavy is no longer my least played class

[arcanegifs]

rewatch the show yall. it gets even better if you do.

[humming-fly]

I feel like growing up with someone with some sort of severe autoimmune disorder shadow of all people would be good about wearing masks

(given the sonic movies take place on modern-day earth with all the trappings that entails I kinda wanted to see if you could put a mask on one of these guys and ngl much easier than I expected lol)

also consider: matching

[sopuu]

ARCANE IS HEREEEE 💥💥💥

[basket-of-loquats]

I headcanon kremy as a lightweight. Sure he’s spent his spent his life around booze in the casinos and gamblers dens and what not, but personally he’s always preferred a sensible cigarette over any other kind of substance, and he only drinks very casually or when someone important offers him a toast and it’s rude to say no. It doesn’t take much to get him drunk, and when he is, his carefully constructed suave persona is ruined and he becomes a giddy mess, slurring with an accent so thick that people can’t even tell what he’s saying. Idk idk I just think it’s cute the amount of times he fails the constitution saving throw even when he hasn’t had that much to drink esp compared to the other members

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

(Small, frivolous rant incoming, apologies)

One thing I wish the Destiny fandom did more of was dabble in the utter horror this universe holds, especially when it comes to portraying the vile atrocities committed by many of the cosmic level characters.

Destiny‘s T rating holds it back so much in my opinion (but it still manages to lay down excellent foundations for horror and more mature themes!!) and I really wish there was more fan works that explored the unimaginable tragedies that occur in lore!!

When you really dwell on the scale of many of the disasters that happen in lore, it really dawns on you just how sinister and monstrous many of the larger villains are. Antagonists like Eramis are much more grounded, certainly not saints though, but some of the antagonists we have encounter are truly odious in their behaviors, even if they are deluded into thinking what they are doing is correct (like the Osmium siblings ravaging whole star systems in pursuit of the sword).

For example, it’s no secret that I LOATHE the Witness like no other. This wicked entity has me fighting bile at the mere thought of it and I truly think the way it delivers cruelty with such a sense of compassion and righteousness to be the most stomach wrenching form of being baneful. I could not think of an entitlement more deplorable than the Witness‘ and it’s existence is a travesty that has caused irreparable harm that spans EONS.

Yet, in my experience, I never see much content that taps into the horrors experienced by those touched by the Witness and its pawns, such as the Noesis and humanity during the collapse. There are INCREDIBLE artistic and written works that tap into the psychological horrors of exos and the unethical hell Clovis was putting people through, but not as many on the more cosmic horrors from what I have seen!!

This may just be a me thing and the personal reasons why I want the Witness put under a hydraulic press speaking, but I often see plenty of depictions of the Witness being uncharacteristically soft and having deeper feelings towards its disciples, but works about its vengeful rage, simple mindedness, violation of the autonomy of others, and predatory grooming are quite barren.

I wish to see just how HEINOUS it is displayed in all its turpitude and how it leaves a festering rot on everything and everyone it touches. I love the Witness because it is so evil in it‘s actions and my heart SINGS any time I see people tap into the trauma it causes, especially for characters like Rhulk or Savathûn!!

There is so much room for exploring just how vast the Destiny universe is when you decenter perpetrators in stories and focus on the incomprehensible number of victims.

Destiny genuinely has a character running around with the title „The Final God of Pain“ haunting people and refusing to permanently die, but there is only so much a T rated game can do and I feel like Destiny enjoyers can go beyond what’s in game in such creative ways!! Just thinking of the fall of Torobatl has me going „Wow, I’m actually so sick to my stomach, I need to honor Caiatl and really capture the pain of such an event!“

The latest lore on the Qugu? My chest HURTS.

Some of the hive experimentations? The hive in general? Hell is not hot enough for what the Witness lead them into.

But you know what they say, be the change you want to see in the world! Create the content you want to enjoy and promote the content you do enjoy!! I wish to dabble into the darker areas of lore, and of course, promote Witness hatred any chance I get!! Hopefully I get more time to write about these things and really value the work the Destiny writers have put into portraying such strong feelings of loss time and time again!!

And also!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read The Garden‘s Witness by Titanmaster_117 !!! ESPECIALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER, I COULD RANT ABOUT THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF PROSE ALL DAY, IT GENUINELY MADE ME CRY!! PROMOTE THE CONTENT YOU ENJOY ALL DAY, EVERYDAY!!

But this is just something I’ve been thinking for some time now. This isn’t condemning anyone in the fandom or saying there is an issue, just a desire I would love to see (and hopefully fulfill if I ever get back into writing for Destiny!) If you guys have any recommendations for Destiny works that are horrific, focus on themes of loss and devastation, or hate on the Witness, feel free to mention them so other people can find them!!

Not enough Witness hate going around for my liking… this looks like a job for me.

[candyheartedchy]

Found an old sketch of my IZ self insert and just updated her design a bit.

She works for the FBI and starts off as a happy go-lucky agent who soon starts questioning everything she knows after crossing paths with Zim. Right away Zim finds out who she works for and gets paranoid, thinking she’s after him when in reality she just wants her own curiosity answered about aliens. She doesn’t get to do missions very often and is mostly the one who’s stuck having to deal with Dib when he calls the FBI.

[spideypawz]

Roxypool. satisfying my need for crossovers one day at a time.

[cable-salamdr]

Idiots with the painted face, in the corner taking up space

(Inspired by this drawing of wedding gown Nya)

I think they would just chill. Talk about their lives, maybe. Brothers, lovers, friends, powers. How they got to this point. Terry steals a child because she can. Yk, the usual stuff. (Someone please tell them their weddings will go wrong (/pos) and they can somewhat go towards happiness afterwards. They desperately need it.)

[krystalisedsoul]

Cafe Nero

Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Summary: Illumi, having finished his job for the day, ventured into town and encountered the cafe his grandfather recommended heavily to him.

Notes: just Illumi getting butterflies seeing the reader lol

Word Count: 1154

The city breathed in the damp, metallic air of an approaching storm, its streets slick with the faint sheen of rain that had not yet fallen. Streets wound like veins through the urban body, pulsing with the life of countless strangers who moved with the aimless purpose of ants beneath a magnifying glass. Lanterns flickered weakly against the encroaching dusk, their light swallowed by the shadows that pooled in the alleys and clung to the edges of buildings like stains. Illumi moved through the throng of bodies with the ease of a shadow slipping through cracks, his presence unnoticed, his existence unacknowledged. The crowd parted around him as if by some unspoken instinct, their laughter and chatter fading into a muffled hum that did not touch him. He was a void, a silence where sound should have been, and the world seemed to bend itself away from him, as though afraid to acknowledge what it could not understand.

Neon signs buzzed overhead, their garish colors bleeding into the twilight, while the scent of street food—sizzling meat, fried dough, and spices—mingled with the acrid tang of exhaust. It was a place of life, of noise, of chaos, and yet, in the midst of it all, there was a pocket of stillness.

Illumi stood at the center of the sidewalk, his presence an anomaly in the bustling crowd. He did not move, did not flinch, as people flowed around him like water around a stone. His black suit, impeccably tailored, seemed to absorb the light, its fabric undisturbed by the wind or the press of bodies. The collar of his shirt was stark against his pale skin, and the silver pin at his throat caught the flicker of a passing headlight, a brief, cold glint in the dimness. His gloves, black and fitted, rested at his sides, their surface smooth and unblemished, as though untouched by the grime of the city.

His face was a study in calm, its features sharp and symmetrical, as though carved from marble by a hand that valued precision above all else. His eyes, dark and depthless, scanned the crowd without interest, their gaze passing over the faces around him as though they were little more than shadows. His hair, long and ink-black, fell in straight, unbroken lines around his face, its stillness a stark contrast to the wind that tugged at the coats and scarves of those who passed him by.

The device in his hand buzzed softly, its screen illuminating with a message from his client. The words were brief, devoid of unnecessary sentiment: "Payment sent." Illumi’s expression did not change, but there was a subtle shift in the set of his jaw, a faint tightening that spoke of satisfaction. His lips, pale and finely shaped, did not curve into a smile, but there was something in the stillness of his face, a quiet intensity, that hinted at the cold pleasure he took in the completion of a task.

Around him, the crowd continued to move, their voices rising and falling in a cacophony of sound. A child laughed, high and bright, as they darted past him, their small hand clutching a balloon that bobbed in the air. A vendor called out, their voice hoarse from hours of shouting, offering steaming buns to anyone who would listen. But Illumi noticed none of it. To him, the world was a blur of motion and noise, a thing to be observed but not engaged with. He was a fixed point in the chaos, a stillness in the storm.

For a moment, he remained there, his gaze fixed on the screen in his hand, the faint glow of the device reflecting in his eyes. Then, with a movement so fluid it seemed almost inhuman, he slipped the device into his pocket and stepped forward. The crowd parted around him, their movements instinctive, as though some primal part of them recognized the danger he represented. He did not look back, did not pause, but continued down the street, his footsteps silent against the pavement.

The neon lights flickered overhead, their colors washing over him in waves, but they did not touch him. He was a shadow, a void, a thing apart from the world around him. And as he disappeared into the crowd, the street seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as though it had been holding its breath the entire time he was there.

Illumi stopped, noticing a café standing at the corner of the square, its windows glowing with a warmth that felt almost obscene in the grayness of the evening. Steam curled against the glass, obscuring the figures inside, but Illumi’s gaze passed over them without interest. ‘Cafe Nero’, his grandfather had mentioned this place, the drinks and bakery becoming one of his favourites when visiting town. Seeing as he finished his work for the day and it wasn’t too late, he decided to make his way to the door.

His eyes, dark and unblinking, were drawn instead to the girl seated near the window. She was a burst of color in a monochrome world, her laughter spilling into the air with a carelessness that felt almost violent. She leaned forward, her hands animated as she spoke, and the people around her leaned in as if pulled by some invisible force. They orbited her like planets around a sun, their faces bright with the reflected glow of her presence.

Illumi did not move. He stood at the edge of the square, his stillness a stark contrast to the fluid motion of the crowd. His hands, gloved and precise, hung at his sides, but his fingers twitched faintly, as though plucking at an invisible thread. He did not know her name, nor did he care to. Names were trivial things, labels for objects that held no meaning. What he saw was not a person but a disruption, a ripple in the carefully ordered fabric of his world. She was wasteful, her energy spent on frivolities—laughter, conversation, connection—things that served no purpose, things that could not be quantified or controlled. And yet, she lingered in his mind like a splinter, small but impossible to ignore.

The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint scent of coffee and pastries, and for a moment, the sound of her laughter reached him. It was a bright, discordant note in the symphony of the city, and it cut through the silence of his thoughts like a blade. His jaw tightened, the faintest flicker of tension betraying the smooth mask of his expression. He turned away, his coat swirling around him like a shadow given form, and disappeared into the crowd.

But the thread remained, thin and unbreakable, tugging at the edges of his consciousness. As Illumi set on his journey back to his mountain, his expression did not change, but something in him shifted, like the slow, inevitable turn of a key in a lock.

[chill4234]

Things that I know.

1. Yaoi is the opposite of yuri

2. According to tumblr, yuri seems to be just about anything, but I have most commonly seen it take the form of two inanimate objects in close proximity to one another. Eg minecraft furnace and crafting table, trains crashing into each other, etc.

Therefore, we can conclude that Yaoi is two inanimate objects that are very far apart from each other. The sun and the earth are yaoi.