The People Have Spoken It Into Existence. Time To Write A Fic And Vn For This!

The people have spoken it into existence. Time to write a fic and vn for this!

I need all the luck I can get for my exams this week 💚

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

Omg, I don't know how the manga artists do what they do. I'm on my first panel, and I'm about to cry. It's so hard. For three images (just lineart-not even colored), it took 3 weeks because of my procrastination game.

Just a lil sneak peek at a Gyutaro x reader I'm making (I will be making 3 editions for she/her, he/him, and they/them pronouns).

Mario is a Homicidal Psychopath

Mario is typically hailed as a hero, because that's what we see in the games, but that is far from the truth.

I'd like to point out that every game has been made from his perspective. It doesn't matter what we see from that perspective, because we know it's warped. Mario is a mass murderer, Mario has insane ambition, and he's stalked Peach for years.

Mario has brutally murdered thousands of Bowsers lackeys in horrible ways such as crushing in their cranium or throwing the corpses at the living. This is something that can only stem from a deranged person.

Mario has gone to extreme lengths to find peach, such as traveling across worlds and along the way, very often, indulging in murder. This is all due to his commitment to find Peach, but looking at this from an outsiders perspective is quite harrowing.

There is reason to believe that Mario experiences hallucinations. He eats red mushrooms with white spots, which are commonly called "fly amanita" mushrooms. The reason for assuming maro hallucinates being: these mushrooms are a potent neurotoxin. Symptom of ingesting these mushrooms just happens to be: hallucinations and confusion (or lack of proper brain functions). Mario continuously eats these.

Further evidence to support that Mario falsely believed that Peach was kidnapped includes (1) Once Mario broke into Bowser's Castle, Peach was completely unharmed, (2) Bowser even stood between Mario and Peach--never showing any intention to harm her--infact, he appeared to be trying to protecther, and (3) The Black Jack song "Peaches" just expresses that Bowser felt nothing but love towards Peach, and wanted to protect her.

The fact that Mario sees Peach getting kidnapped or in a cage can all be chalked up to his deluded perception of reality from the consumption of a neurotoxin and his unstable mental state.

Bowser was protecting Peach, and Mario--an insane and homicidal man--brutally murdered him by throwing him in lava after crushing his skull. Then, Mario kidnapped Peach by forcing her to go with him.

I was playing adorable home and my character was doing the exact same thing as me :)

Untying

Suppress or express?

Depress by the mess that lie there in rest.

Even when I try my best, I can't pass my tests.

Let the past be the past.

I hope that's the last time

I cast false hope.

I'll lie and mope;

Try to cope,

Maybe grab hold of that thin rope.

Grab hold like it's gold;

Tie myself together dispite the cold and mold that rolled around me.

I sat on the ground,

For years on that mound.

I pound on my head with my hands.

I grew addicted to the sound of myself crying.

I think that gold rope is untying.

The Portal

There's a depressed person that lives across from me.

Their window curtains are always open, and various-luscious-plants lie in front of the portal.

Every morning, I see them lay in bed. They hope that they can sleep all day, but they always wake up and soulessly wonder about.

It's 11:57a.m.

It's a sad sight to see, it's only a kid.

The melancholy in each sigh, and waning step.

The tears that stream down their face everyday grow heavier and louder as the weeks progress.

One afternoon, I could hear them crying.

I still saw them through that damn window.

Just laying in bed. Face red, swolen, and lost.

They looked like they were already dead.

Sometimes I swear they'd see me staring back through the portal, but they never really seemed to care.

Then, the third week of April came around. Their cries were silent, sinking deep into themself, forever leaving prints on their skin (in the wrinkles of their face and in the scars that they bore)

They repeated, over and over, "I'm okay. I'm okay. It's okay. I'm fine. I'm fine."

They lied to themself. Everyday.

Sometimes, when I'd catch a glance

They're full of horrible rage; cursing, yelling, punching walls, pushing others away, pulling out their own hair.

Regret.

Apathy.

Guilt.

Emptiness.

Words escape with toxic venom and force, without a second thought.

The storm that followed them would always fall apart and sink once the door to their bedroom closed.

They, too, would always fall apart and sink.

It was like the door cut off the gasoline that fueled the fire.

And instead--settled the fog and ashes into the cold hardwood floor. Staining the once whole shattered glass.

They pleaded with a higher being that they did not believe in.

But nobody came. No one could clear the cinders or the ash or glass or dust that lay on the floor or their silvery, charred skin.

Then they'd stare into the portal--at me.

And I'd stare back--at myself.

I think I should start posting again-

So here's a doggo