#yas make him suffer

[realititrip]

a glitch in time changed my brain chemistry i will never be the same

[hplonesomeart]

Here you go fellow gays enjoy some tranquil scenery with the favorite fruity robot ever. Spend a late night chatting with him on a balcony as the laughter rings out in the air. Can’t quite get any better then this

[carmineskiesandspidereyes]

A Softer Trigun, part 20/?

pt. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

[merrimentsmight]

Saw the ask for Cicero-themed prompts.

Wondering if you'd be interested in writing a Cicero x Listener, with a Cicero who hates the Listener but is to loyal to the Tenets to admit that to himself?

“Come here, my Cicero, my dear,” they say. They order. So condescending. My dear. My my mine my mine. Of course, though, it is true. He is theirs. He has made monuments of that truth in actions, in fluids, the shapes he writes, his own blood on their thighs. The way he kills on their order, sleeps on their order, breathes on their order. It is their prerogative. And in the same fashion they, who outstrips him in everything, who sups at the Night Mother’s dry husk of a breast, who could have killed him once and should have taken the chance when they had it, do not belong to Cicero. They belong to no one. Are accountable to no one. Least of all the poor Keeper. 

Sometimes he worries that the Dread Lord will become tired of it and strike them down. Other days he simply prays that their Father will see his loyalty and spare him that repercussion. Other days still he knows that he has fallen prey, and lost himself, and deserves everything coming to them and more. And then on each of those days he comes to his senses, and prays to be released from his own heretical thoughts. He reminds himself that he loves the Listener. He reminds himself so often. 

He rises from where he had knelt at their feet, follows their gestures, sits in their lap. They smell good; clean and like wind and autumn fruit. They kiss him and they taste of full, sweet wine, and they grip his side, and he moans. He could reach out now and strangle them. He could bash their skull against the stone wall until it busted open, their brain red and wet and soft like jam. He could sink inside of them and claw his way out; rip them open from the depths. He could he could he could he could. He could not! He would never. Mother chose them. After all. Out of all, out of anyone, Mother chose them. And they chose him. And that was. That was an honor. 

Is he lying? Is he lying to the Listener? To Mother? Oh no no. Oh no. Oh never. He would never. But when they run their hand through his hair he knows he's a pet. Feels what he has been reduced to. Knows that every moment he falls into it, enjoys it, the praise and attention, is a little lie he's telling to himself. He tries to fall into it anyway, enjoy it anyway. If this is what Sithis laid out for him he has no recourse but to obey. But each day the ties that bind him to the stone altar of devotion abrade against its unpolished edges. They grow thinner. They will snap. 

And what will loyal Cicero be then?

[lunabug2004]

Okay first of all: LEADER MIKE IS BACK LETS GOOOO!!!! (Did he ever really leave?)

Second of all: there’s no way “he is well! He is good” is the truth. I’m onto you Finn Wolfhard. This boy is suffering like he never has before. Or we are at least seeing some of his past suffering come to light. Either way, that boy better not be doing “well” or “good”. I need his story to be well-rounded and well-written PLEASE!!!

[toxictoad]

Is there a fandom word for a supporting character that is rarely if ever a topic for fandom but that you are absolutely obsessed with?

I'm not talking about a glup shitto. I mean a character that everyone knows about but who isn't really anyone's favorite character. Fics centered on them are rare and ones that actually explore them in an interesting way are even rarer. No one really kins them or draws them. No one brings them up outside of discussing other characters.

Yeah, whatever that is.

But then...

A piece of media comes out that heavily features that character... and people finally talk about them.... you are in heaven for a few short months... and then it goes back to how it was.

Oh, sure, maybe there will be more people who like that character now. Maybe there will be an uptick in fics that give you a small backlog to read. Maybe you'll even get a nice catalog of fanart that will fuel your imagination for a little while.

But no matter what; that character won't get as much attention as you think they deserve.

Anyway that's how I feel about Count Fanon-first-name-Yan Dooku.

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

What if I let Felix get a little silly (read: protective) with it

[egginfroggin]

Hey who wants to see the first chapter of an old time loop submas fic I started back in 2022

Great, here you go:

(No warnings that I can think of; please inform me if I should tag or mark anything)

Celebi had been summoned many times in its long life, called to the Ilex Forest by countless people as Time dragged on and on in an endless march marked by monotone ticking. Whether or not those calls and summons were heeded was entirely up to Celebi itself, and what, precisely, motivated it to appear to one person over the next was known only to itself.

Perhaps it was a sense of mercy.

Perhaps it was curiosity.

Perhaps Celebi could see into the hearts of those who called for it and judged from there whether or not a person was worthy of a wish.

Perhaps it was none of these things, perhaps it was all of them, perhaps it was nothing at all.

Celebi hovered there in the Ilex Forest, crystalline wings fluttering on its back as it appeared in a flicker of light and a flurry of sparkles like the fairy it was. Power thrummed in the air around it as the tiny creature’s lips curled in an ever-present smile, eyes fluttering open to peer down at its summoner.

Goodness, it could see this man’s very soul, and what a sight it was – Time had not been kind to him at all, exacerbating the symptoms of heartbreak instead of healing them. Cracks ran through his very core, fissures of stress and anguish and desperation, and Celebi’s own heart throbbed for this poor man, sympathy running alongside curiosity and unnameable emotions as it looked over every tearstained bit of his flagging heart.

Celebi tilted its head, smiling patiently.

“What is your wish, human?”

He’d gone rigid with its appearance, disbelief and shock showing in his eyes like he hadn’t expected it to really appear. Celebi’s smile was reflected in a twisted manner on his face, more of a grimace, but at the sound of its bell-like voice asking for his request, the disbelief and tension melted away to make way for tentative euphoria. He choked in a gasp of air, tightly-clenched fists releasing for a moment, and he straightened his spine, lifting his chin despite the tremors Celebi saw rattling his form.

“I am Emmet,” he said, clear and monotone yet so very, very exhausted, “and I –”

He faltered for an instant, his voice hitching, and Celebi could feel, almost see his pain become tangible as feelings of pain, loss, need, separation shuddered through his soul.

“My brother and I have been decoupled,” he said, swallowing hard. “For a verrrrry long time.”

Years, he didn’t say, but Celebi knew nonetheless, years ago, five, almost six.

“I want him back.” His fists tightened, tight enough to draw blood if not for his gloves. “How things were before. I never wanted to lose him. I do not want to lose him. I do not want us to ever be separated again.”

Twins, the same age, together from conception, individuals but two sides of the same coin.

He licked his lips, drawing in a breath, silver eyes never leaving Celebi’s softly glowing form.

“I wish to never be separated from my brother ever again – for it to have never happened, and to never happen. That is my wish.”

Grant it, please, please have enough power, he didn’t say.

Celebi tilted its head the other way, wings fluttering softly, blue eyes wide and scouring.

After a moment, it blinked.

Then, Celebi smiled at the torn-up, determined man before it, inclining its head with a glint in its irises.

“As you wish, Emmet.”

Time ground to a halt, splitting, tearing, reversing, reforming – Dialga would have a fit at it later, for sure, but a wish was a wish, and Celebi had heeded this one – Time looped back on itself countless times over, veering around the will of Celebi and the will of fate itself.

Ilex Forest was washed in blinding, pure white light, and when it faded, only Celebi remained, hovering over the dish of offerings, a gentle, sad smile on its lips.

---------

Emmet felt the ground fall out from beneath his feet, the pull of gravity yanking him down as light flooded his vision, bright and all-consuming and blinding, searing his retinas with burning, cold white.

It faded into black, thick as tar yet easily breathable as he sank into it.

His fall slowed and up was down, left was right, light was shadow and cold was hot, everything reversed, its own inversion, and for a single, petrifying moment, his lungs seized as his head throbbed with enough pain that it felt like it would split open.

Emmet blinked, and a feeling of weightlessness came over him as a loud voice echoed in his ears, distracting him from the pain in his temples.

Train no. 1 will leave the station momentarily. Thank you for your continued patience.

“What?”

His own voice was clear as water, but staccato, a single burst of sound, unlike the ringing voice that surrounded him like an announcement over the P.A. system at Gear Station back home.

We will now be leaving the station. Best of luck on your travels. Have a good day.

Emmet once again fell, his yell of utter confusion left behind as he tumbled down, down, down, into the endless abyss as the announcement repeated itself one more time.

[katkalis-the-fanartist]

The princess has been rather impish lately-

They are powerless now.

[vroomian]

So uh… just asking, but have you ever tried checking out the game of thrones/song of ice and fire/house of the dragon/etc fandoms? Bc I’ve never so much as watched a single episode of any of them but the fics are…… /interesting/ to say the least.

You mean all the incest and murder and very weird dynamics???? Hell yeah I have. Love me some fucked up fic <3

It’s nice to see a fandom that’s not shy about letting their ocs be so very strange and fucked up.

[poomphuripan]

New stills from Q26 of iQIYI and YYDS’s My Stand-In (2024), dir. Pepzi Banchorn Vorasataree & Khom Kongkiat Khomsiri

[opens-up-4-nobody]

The annoying thing about releasing sanji from the cage inside my brain this week is that 1) I got stung by a wasp or yellowjacket on my dominant hand and it's so swollen there's tension when I grip a pencil and 2) I won't be around this weekend to draw him a million times in color 😭

[hanzajesthanza]

some terrible part of me wants to comparatively analyze the reynevan/jutta sex scenes VS the birkart/douce sex scenes as good VS evil…

it’s about the worship of VS subjugation of…

[featherisderp]

Sad gorl.

She doesn't fear much of anything. She doesn't mind her occasional hallucinations and she deals with blood and gore oddly well. She does, however, have a surpressed fear of being alone. Not just by herself in a room, but completely alone, with no one who cares to help her if she ends up needing it. Of course, this fear wouldn't ever become a reality. Her family loves her and Meta Knight cares for her like a daughter. He's the one that gave her that lamp, and a small plush I might draw at some point.

This fear comes from the event after she had gotten injected with Monster Serum. There was the incident with the serum itself, which got resolved, and something else that happened not too long after while Meta Knight was away on a mission. No one knew where she was and they couldn't help her. Oddly enough, she'd become more violent with Escargoon after she'd been found, and it was at this point this fear of hers had become a thing.

She ignores it. Thinking about it causes her to spiral into an outright breakdown that results in her transforming if left unresolved. In this case, she doesn't typically attack anyone. Instead, she'll run off and hide somewhere.

Edgy lore lmao.

[undermostcorgi]

the media which consumes your entire soul at age 12 will forever be a part of you. this is an unavoidable consequence of living and you have to accept this fact. no matter how old you get, no matter how long it has been since you last saw its smug face peeking out from the bushes as it follows you, no matter if you think you have outrun it for good and that you're finally finally safe and you hardly even remember it exists anymore and your brain knows a few brief moments of true peace, it WILL catch up to you in your moment of weakness. and listen you don't want to hear this but sometimes this is necessary for your mental health. you will on instinct want to reject it and run away again but sometimes. sometimes you just need to watch that old show or listen to that silly song or read that weird book again as an adult and it will hurt you a little bit in various little ways but it will also heal you a little bit. you can call it nostalgia you can call it connecting with your inner child or whatever you want but just listen to me it WILL HAPPEN TO YOU TOO AT SOME POINT AND YOU HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THIS (i am forcibly dragged off the stage by security)

[glitchtricks94]

I might just straight up revert back to writing Fixation, Gyokko's a fucking BITCH to write for but I still wanna press on with his fic too because there's so little content for him, like, everywhere. He's underrated, there's next to no information about him, and I'm struggling to properly write him after he nearly skewered an artist reader!