There's Just Something About Fictional People Slowly Getting Corrupted Until They Can't Recognize Who

My cat. Died.

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Cursed Village

A slice of life following the cursed (or blessed) inhabitants of Cursemire as they go about their daily lives.

I've finally gotten around to publishing my own comic! My personal favorite image vv

dead cells au where when you show up to the hand of the king fight in the king outfit he recognizes you as the king and instead of “you stole his body! thief!” you now have a giant puppy bodyguard who loves you soso much and literally Will Not Leave You Alone. every time you go somewhere he cant follow you get a constant notification of “The Hand’s Misery Is Increasing!” until you literally cant hear anything else.

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Donate to Please help save my family, organized by Abdelmutei Alhabil

I am the citizen Abdel Muti Al-Habil, a resident of Gaza. I am 26 years old. My wife i… Abdelmutei Alhabil needs your support for Please h

May God bless you and your family, Shaima. I hope your daughter gets the treatment she needs. I'd give y'all all the money I can, but I am unfortunately a broke college student. Still, I'll be praying for y'all.

The grand hall echoes with the ticking of thousands, maybe millions, of golden clocks.  Glowing eyes watch Forzen from every angle, watching from between the gears of the clocks or in the shadows of the entity sitting on the throne.  The hands of the clock reach out for Forzen.  Shadows reach towards the entity crowned in light.  It’s made of darkness, something that has never seen the stars.

Tommy as Forzen knows him is just a man with odd eyes.  He’d called it scleral icterus, but Dr Freeman, the man in the mixology department, said that it wasn’t.

Now, the entity speaks, and truth molds itself to its words.  Time is guided by its hand, raised in punishment.  The gentle hand of it reaches out to Forzen, pulling him closer.  Eyes once yellow now see through any lie told.  Forzen wants to throw up, to tear out his brain, to wipe any memory of it from his mind.  Forzen wants to kneel before it, to worship it, to stand in its presence until Time finds him.  This must be God.  This must be the Devil.

The entity looks humanoid.  The entity bears no resemblance to anything, living or dead.  The entity loves Forzen.  The entity wants him dead.  The entity has no face.  The entity has the most beautiful face Forzen can imagine.

The man’s life melts away in the presence of this deity, this mind-bending entity.  He has no purpose but to serve it.  He’s always served it.  Whatever it desires, the man will do.  Hands that once were brown reach out, begging to touch the entity for even a brief moment.  Hands that shine with gears and liquid gold fall back upon the entity looking upon the man.  The only thing in this void of ticking and watching is the entity and the man.  He sees through the entity’s eyes, how puny his body is.  How pathetic he is, to think such a beautiful thing would ever want him.  How kind the beast is, to desire his slavery.

They’re part of everything.  They can see through Time’s lies, they can see the world as it should be, they can see what never was.  They don’t want to separate from themselves.  They want to get their freedom back.

The man staggers away from the entity.  It peers down at them.  The man is sick.  The man is lovestruck.  The man is running away.  The man stays still.  The man needs to escape.  The man needs to join the entity again.

Doctor Hayden Bubby laughs as the prone man fights, twitching on the ground.

Professor “Coomer” points his gun at Dr Bubby.

Mr Darnold wants to scream at the two.

Officer Benji Reymond watches as anarchy breaks.

The man is dead.  The man holds a gun to the entity.

Forzen won.  Tommy lays in a growing pool of his own ichor.  Yellow tinted eyes look up at Forzen with a mix of disbelief and sorrow.  A burned hand reaches up to touch the hole in his chest, the hand coming away stained with gold.

“...Tommy?”  Forzen rasps out, dropping to his knees.  He tosses his gun aside in favor of holding his friend close.  Forzen feels numb as he watches ichor drip onto the tiles.

“It’s okay, Mr Forzen!”  Tommy smiles weakly, reaching up to pat his friend’s face.  Gold is smeared across Forzen’s cheek where Tommy touched him.  The military man breaks.

“I-I didn’t mean to!  I, I just thought…”  Forzen’s face feels hot as tears drip down to mix with the ichor.  He holds Tommy close, knowing there’s nothing he can do.  He’s seen too many good men and women die to be fooled.

“It’s okay.”  Tommy repeats.  “You didn’t know.  You never knew.”

As Tommy goes limp, Forzen screams.  He screams until his voice cracks, then screams more.  He calls for whoever made fate to kill him too.  He weeps until his voice is lost as well.  There’s no coming back this time.  The entity known as Tommy isn’t coming back.

@inkzectz here's a poorly made tomzen angst fic because I've hit block in the longer, fluffier one

Look at this fluffy lady!! She is a Sierra Nevada Red Fox! She is very endangered!

No?? I didn't? I'm not 16?? And it's not my birthday??

who keeps following me i haven't posted anything

I might be severely depressed, but I can't die until my dog dies. I'm going to live until I'm 200 at the very least :)

i missed animating ponies