nightmare curiosity

@purplerage0592 ‘s third chef is a frikin goliath.

((Had this in my head since he made his first debut xD.))

((He found a stray mutant snooping arround in the kitchens~))

        Are you αωαкε?
            Is this just another
𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢?

                                                                           …Do you even ᴋɴᴏᴡ?

broke-your-throne.tumblr.com
"Oh who would ever wanted a Queen..."
Three-Princess Blog for Luna, Celestia and Cadance! Sister Blog to on MYLITTLECURIOSITYRP SELECTIVE...

;; Okay. So Lunasbluemoon is now Broke-Your-Throne.

It’s a Multi-Muse blog for:

  • Princess Luna, Blood Moon, Nightmare Moon
  • Princess Celestia/Complextia, Queen Celestia, (maybe later on Daybreaker)
  • Princess Cadance, Empress Cadance

On this blog I still have 33 bbes to play with. So don’t worry lol.

anvil527up  asked:

Good morning Moddy! I had an early am thought, and wonder... just how far will Vader go to protect his damaged brother, ObiWan, in the yourwords au? And who gets to find out this first? Palps? The Rebellion? (tells Bail what will happen to the next one to upset Obi?) Maybe one of the Moffs? Would it get to a 'Hail Emperor Vader' moment? Or 'Hail Nightmare Vader'? (Curiosity killed the cat? MEOW)

“Bail, what is wrong?” Mon blinked at the holo of her friend as the man himself seemed pale even over the holo as he stared at his own hands for a long moment. She hadn’t seen him this out of sorts since the revelation of what Gerrera’s faction had done to Obi-Wan had come out.

Her fellow Senator slowly looked up and stared at her for a long, mute moment before speaking. “I just had another visitation from Darth Vader.”

Mon’s blood went cold, worry for Bail itching through her even as she heard the personnel around her go more quiet in an attempt to listen in on the conversation.

“And?” She questioned quietly.

“…Mon who did you tell that Obi-Wan was staying out of the fight? Who contacted Obi-Wan to demand he’d ‘get over’ being raped and tortured by the Alliance rougher factions and fight for what was ‘right’?” Bail stared at her and she blinked at him before frowning.

“Bai-”

“Because Darth Vader himself came marching into my office, broke my door with the Force, choked my aid almost to death and threatened me by the end of his lightsaber that the next time the Alliance contacts Obi-Wan to demand he fight, Vader is personally hunting down every last member and personally choke them to death slowly and steadily until their eyes bulge out.” Bail stared at her. “And that’s his own words, verbatim Mon. He won’t stand for anyone reaching out to Obi-Wan to get him to fight… so who did you tell that Obi-Wan was in the custody of Darth Vader that also knew of what happened to Obi-Wan?”

Mon stared at Bail for a long moment, the only sounds in the tactical room was the sound of machines. “…The entire Alliance leadership knows Bail. I couldn’t keep such a thing a secret, that a Jedi was alive and in the custody of the Emperor’s attack dog.” She murmured.

Bail groaned and dropped his face in his hands, shoulders visibly shaking. “Oh sweet Stars…” Bail whispered before the connection abruptly cut out.

Mon swallowed heavily, wondering what the future would bring.

It was however abundantly clear that when it came to Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Alliance would have to thread carefully because any threat, imagined or real, towards the man would be handled both ruthlessly and brutally by a dark clothed attack dog.

()()()

Settling the helmet down on the table and throwing his cape onto a chair, Anakin carefully toed out of his shoes before crawling into the bed beside Obi-Wan and drew the resting redhead against him.

The movement however woke him up and blinked sleepy eyes at him before breaking into a small smile.

“Anakin.” He yawned and shifted up enough to press a kiss to the others burn scarred cheek before settling back down again.

“Hello Obi-Wan.” Anakin murmured, gently stroking the others hair in return with a pleased glow in his stomach at the others soft little hum of pleasure, not to mention the kiss only moments before. “Tired?”

“Mmmn, M7 really pushed me through therapy today. I feel exhausted so I went to bed early.” The Jedi confessed quietly, eyes closed as he slowly shifted his mech arm around the others waist to settle it there.

Returning the favor, Anakin gently stroked at the small of the others back when his arm settled around his waist. “I see. You had dinner first right?”

Snorting quietly, Obi-Wan nodded into his chest with another yawn. “Course I did. Dinner and a shower, promise.”

Pleased, Anakin pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Good. Now go back to sleep. You’re clearly still exhausted.” He murmured and grinned to himself when moments later Obi-Wan did just that. ‘Well I did tell him to go back to sleep…’ He thought bemusedly.

6

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           Am I αωαкε?
               Is this just another
𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢?

                                                                            …I can’t tell anymore.

;;Dona’s halloween/nightmare night ball?

So I actually really like that idea. Of Nicemarity!Donatella throwing a Nightmare Night Ball. And it being an Open House invitation in her Canterlot Mansion. 

Remember, much like many super heroes/villains, Rarity’s Donatella is an alter ego comes out at night and has a separate life from Rarity in many respects.So following along with my AU she has a mansion in Canterlot sometimes and I think it’d be nice to meet a lot of other rp’rs that I haven’t interacted with yet.

I might make a post about it later with rules and details and stuff.

Whether I post it on actual Halloween or not idk. This month is weird and devoted mostly to moving and my shitastic life trying to rearrange itself again but we’ll see how it goes. I’m glad I just thought of this though.

Nightmares

Chat Noir’s curiosity pushes Marinette too close to her insecurities, and her refusal to answer him stretches the tension between them to a breaking point.

Read on Ao3

Words: 1611, Language: English

  • Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
  • Rating: General Audiences
  • Warnings: None
  • Categories: M/F
  • Relationships: Ladynoir
  • Additional comments: Slight angst and hurt/comfort

Basically: I push my insecurities of not being good enough onto Marinette. 


Keep reading

So Many Avengers (but mostly Stony) Fics!!!

Here is my collection of links for amazing avengers fics in alphabetical order because I am weird like that. Feel free to add any you want and yeah here you go lovelies! Oh and all work credit goes to the appropriate authors go love them because they are great!

#:

1796 Broadway

A:

Artificial Intelligence 

Avengers’ Tower: Another Project for Tony

Avengers’ Tower: Mini Avengers

Avengers’ Tower: Reconstructing the Avengers 

Avengers’ Tower: Steve’s Gamble

Avengers’ Tower: The Merchandise Fiasco

Avengers’ Tower: Tony Makes Some Changes

B:

Bedtime Stories and Nightmares

C:

Curiosity Changes Everything

D:

Dating the Long Way Around

Diplomatic Relations and Intelligence Failures

Discussions in Dynamic Relationships

E:

Extracurricular Activities

F:

Fairy Tales and Clockwork Hearts

(First Impressions Are) A Work in Progress

Four (Or Five) Reasons for Kidnapping Tony Stark

G:

Ghosts of Christmas Memory

H:

Hollow Your Bones Like a Bird’s

I:

J:

K:

L:

M:

N:

O:

Ordinary Workplace Hazards, Or SHIELD and OSHA Aren’t On Speaking Terms

P:

Peter’s Accidental Revelation

Phil Coulson Can’t Keep the Avengers Out of Medical

Phil Coulson Does Not Bake (and The Avengers Do Not Shop At IKEA Anymore)

Phil Coulson Does Not Take Attendance

Phil Coulson Doesn’t Work for StarkIndustries

Phil Coulson Is Not a SHIELD Recruiter (Except for Special Cases)

Phil Coulson Is Not the Avengers’ Matchmaker (Or Their Style Consultant)

Phil Coulson is Not the Avengers’ Public Relations Manager

Phil Coulson Knows Tony Stark’s Super Villain Name

Phil Coulson Wasn’t Grown in a Lab (He Has a Mom)

Q:

R:

Rescue Missions and Mistaken Identities

Rom-Commed By Fate (Or JARVIS)

S:

Secrets of the Toasterverse

SHIELD Has Paperwork for Everything

Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

So No One Told You

Stories Told With Silence

T:

The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation

The Avengers’ Calendar

The Best of Life and Asgard

The Monster In the Closet

The Twice-Told Tale

Things Unseen (That Are Captured on Film)

U:

V:

W:

Wanderer

X:

Y:

Z:

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Curiosity Killed the Cat

@smutanon69
There it was, just sitting there.

The shade had ignored it at first, going about his night of instilling fear in the hearts of children and reveling in their misery. He had gone from house to house, when he noticed the small black creature growing closer and closer with every home he visited.

Was it following him? He had had his fill for the night and was just about to return to his lair, when he saw it again. That same little furry creature.

Pitch gave it a suspicious glare. Well, no doubt it had followed him this far. Perhaps he should pay it some mind then. He approached the kitten, a hairless brow raised. “..hello.” he said, looking down.

Slowly, the Boogeyman raised an ashen hand and tested it on the kitten’s head. He gave it a little scratch, a small smile forming on the shade’s face. “Hmm.. Quite the fluffy thing, aren’t you?” he said. Pitch continued to pet the kitten, lightly scratching from its head to its tail.

When the moment had passed, the shade let the kitten be, returning to the shadows and subsequently back to his lair. He hoped no one had seen that.. The Boogeyman stopping to pet a kitten.. He would be ruined.

beautifulblazingperfectionist

This couldn’t be happening! His eyes were fine yesterday and now, all of a sudden, all he saw before him darkness. An endless see of darkness. Was this a punishment from Arceus himself? How was he supposed to do his work like this?! He couldn’t be a spy for Team Magma anymore like this. He couldn’t do anything at all for the team like this!

Despair settled in. Tears falling down from the eyes he couldn’t see through anymore.

When he heard his alternates voice, his ears perked up. He knew it was one of his alternates talking to him, but, he didn’t know who exactly.

“I… I can’t see anything…” His voice croaked, hands touching his surroundings.

This was a nightmare!

Ruby blinked in curiosity. He couldn’t see anything? Well, that was strange. Moving towards the Magma slowly, Ruby rested a hand on his shoulder and knelt down.

“You can’t see anything? At all?” Ruby waved a hand in front of his face to see if it’s get a response. If the Magma was crying then this was serious. 

“Maybe we should go to an eye doctor? Maybe they can tell us what’s wrong.” Ruby suggested helping his alternate up. “I mean maybe it’s temporary?”

The Man Who Will Change The World

(tw:  depression, suicide, abuse, very dark themes/mental illness)

I’m going to warn you all right now, this post is going to be very dark for the first half.  Even with the trigger warning above, I still feel that I need to say that this is an extremely raw, honest post.  I’m not going to sugarcoat anything because I want people to really understand the weight of what mental illness truly is.

Depression is gross.  So many people hear the word “depression” and get a mental image of some goth kid standing in the rain, some neat little red lines on their wrists, listening to coldplay as their heavy eyeliner rolls down their cheeks.

That’s not even close to what mental illness is.

Depression isn’t just feeling sad.  Depression is an impossible void, a vile weight that pulls your mind to the pits of depravity.  Depression is feeling trapped, locked and caged by your own thoughts.  You cry for hours because all you can feel is despair; and the worst part is there’s no real reason to feel this way.  You can be surrounded by family and friends who love you, and yet you are being poisoned by your own mind, the one thing you can’t get away from.

I have suffered from depression since middle school.  I will be 20 in December.  Over the years, the depression has waxed and waned, ranging from unbearable to only just manageable.  But I kept going, still able to manage my life somewhat reasonably.  Six months ago, however, depression hit me in a way it never has before.  And this time was different.  So different.

I won’t give too many details about my past, but I was emotionally/psychologically abused by my parents my whole life, to the point where I had been brainwashed to see myself as a sick, mean, crazy, unbearable human.  They even taught my two younger sisters to fear me, acting like I was a diseased animal frothing at the mouth while they pointed and explained why “she’s a mental case”.  When I had panic attacks from my anxiety, ones that would cause me to literally throw up and shake and cry, they would tell me I was “scaring the girls” and my siblings would be herded away, as if I was a threat.  As well as this abuse, I was bullied and sexually harassed throughout my middle school years.

When I finally got out of that house and into college, I was excited.  I could finally start my own life.  I could prove to my parents that I wasn’t crazy, I could make a life for myself.  I finally had been given a chance to show everyone that my mental illness didn’t define me, that I could be independent and stand on my own legs.

But when I got to college, I realized something terrifying.  Even a few states away from Ohio (my home), my parents’ voices still lingered in my head.  My mind had been twisted in ways I couldn’t fix, 18 years being told I was psycho, I was mean, I was cruel, I was scary, I was insane.  Instead of hearing insults from my parents’ mouths, I found that my head filled the gap on its own, supplying harsher words than had ever been thrown my way before.

Depression is gross.  I went from being a straight A student all of high school and my first college semester to failing every single class.  For four months, I didn’t leave my dorm room except to use the toilet.  I didn’t shower for weeks at a time, and I never did laundry.  I didn’t eat most of the time.  I rarely slept.  Sometimes I would stay awake for three consecutive days at a time, staring at a blank wall, sometimes bursting into tantrums of crying and self punishment.  Every time I saw my reflection in the mirror, I screamed insults at the disgusting, sick, mental bitch staring back at me.  I got images of tearing my body apart, disemboweling myself, slitting my neck on broken glass.  Self mutilation and suicide became the subjects of most of my dreams, dreams I only had after I had stayed up so long that I was fevered and sick from lack of sleep, only to collapse from pure exhaustion.  I was so angry at myself for being alive, because I didn’t deserve to take up space on this planet. How DARE I keep living, how DARE I try to live my life, how DARE I go one more day without at least attempting suicide?

Since I was trapped in my room by fear, anger, and debilitating depression, I had little else to do but find distractions online to give my head some silence.  That’s how I found Markiplier.  I found his Five Nights at Freddy’s playthrough, and watched the whole thing.  I didn’t particularly like the guy, but it was a distraction.  it was a voice other than my own to listen to, something that had nothing to do with how messed up I was.  I then went to his channel to see what other games he’d played, and something caught my eye.  It was a playlist called “Neverending Nightmares”.  Out of curiosity, I clicked on it.

When I watched Mark play that game, I was shocked that someone had gone through a similar mental state as mine and had created a game out of it.  The mood, confusion, anxiety, and awful imagery of that game was scarily reminiscent of how life felt for me.  And as I watched this game portray (what felt like) my own personal insanity, I watched for Mark’s reaction.  I waited for the disgust, the fear, the alienation, the insults to start flying from this normal person’s mouth.  But I was shocked.

Mark didn’t respond with fear and disgust, or confusion.  He was, for lack of better terminology, intrigued.  Sympathetic even.  Knowing that the game had been created by a man who suffered from such intense mental illness didn’t make him pull away.  He addressed it.  He talked about it comfortably.  He even acknowledged that he didn’t really understand it, but still showed an open mind towards it.  And his message at the end of the play through to those with depression was the final blow.  He was talking directly to us.  Those who were “insane”, “sick”, “twisted”.  He cared.  He encouraged us to keep living.  He was totally fine thinking that people like me were watching his videos, and he wasn’t scared of us.  I remember that I started crying, but it wasn’t the same kind of crying that I had been used to.  It wasn’t filled with despair, terror, hatred, or wishes of being dead.  It was different.  It was filled with happiness, relief, and even hope.

I am still very sick.  It’s now been about six months since this episode started, and I still have yet to pull out of it.  I am making arrangements to check myself into an inpatient facility as soon as I can figure out the financial situation.  But now, I have hope.  I felt before that there was no purpose to being alive, if I was such a screwup.  Now, I know what I want more than anything in the world.  The joy, relief, and hope I felt from a silly man on the internet giving a crap about those with depression is something I can’t put into words.  And not everyone is able to hear that.

I want to give people that hope.  I want to be the person that I wished would have been there for me when I was being abused.  I want to love people, even if they are sick.  I want to talk with anyone who is lonely and be their friend.  I want to be an older sibling for those who didn’t have anyone to protect them from their parents.  I want to be the mother figure to someone that I wasn’t able to have.  I want to make people who can only feel sadness laugh like nothing else can make them laugh.  I want to care, I want to help, I want to be there to tell anyone who needs to hear it that “you’re okay.  I’ve got your back.”

markiplier, if you read this (which I know you won’t because this is insanely long), I want you to know something important.  What matters the most to me and others who struggle with severe depression isn’t your popularity.  It’s not your skill (or lack thereof in some cases) of games.  It’s not whether or not you upload a video on time.  it’s not whether your video is edited well or not.  It’s not your attractiveness, your charisma, or your talent.

What kept me alive was your faith in me.  In all of us.

Markiplier is someone I deeply respect more than anyone else in my life.  Not just because of the personal connection I have to that play through, but because he is someone to believe in.  If there’s anyone who can change the world, it’s him.  His wisdom, leadership skills, and contagious passion are fueling a fire that is catching quickly.  And I believe, more strongly than I believe anything else, Markiplier is going to change the world.

Thank you Mark

Jillian