#I HAVE NO WORDS JUST WORSHIP

[rottengurlz]

lover, don't touch me // leave, i am a danger to you // but ooh, i hunger for you

[onioe]

Feng Xin loved Xie Lian, who wouldn’t? When he first met his prince, they were hardly teenagers, and the feeling that wrapped itself around his heart was not yet love, but admiration. Only a year younger than his bodyguard, and the prince already showed his truly, blinding colors. He was something Feng Xin thought was worth following.

The prince was clearly spoiled, but hadn’t all royalty been? They know nothing else but riches, and yet-his prince showed true compassion for those considered beneath him. As they grew older, that fluttering feeling only expanded, but now he knew what it was. Each passing smile, each time they shared a bed because- “the bed is too big, Feng Xin, I don’t like being alone at night” -made these emotions solidified. His prince had true morals, had goals that he believed he could accomplish and set out to do just that. Brilliant, his prince was. Someone to look up too. Just shy of his adult years, Feng Xin had fallen in love with the prince he swore to protect.

<>

Mu Qing loved Xie Lian. How could anyone love the spoiled prince? When he first met the prince, he was fourteen, the prince only a year older and followed by some lap dog Mu Qing could care less about. He had been assigned as his personal assistant; to dress and help bathe him, style him for everyday wear, do his cleaning. Being a servant to the prince was bad enough, but he also had to deal with the sharp tongue of the puppy that hovered over royalty.

No matter how picky the prince was with his food, no matter how he thought it improper to wear the same robes more than once, Mu Qing couldn’t help his cheeks reddening every time he made eye contact with the handsome prince. While spoiled, he was also mischievous. When the dog became overbearing, he’d ask Mu Qing to sneak around the castle, just for giggles. The three were often seen hip to hip as they aged, becoming respectable young men. Mu Qing heart twisted with ugly jealousy when he saw Feng Xin and the prince exchange secret looks and he finds himself unsure who he’d rather be at the moment, or why. The Prince looks at him the same way, and that jealousy is tampered out. He’d fallen in love with the Prince he was made to serve.

<>

Hua Cheng loved Xie Lian. Whoever dared to speak ill of him was mysteriously missing from the face of the earth. When he first met his prince, he had saved the dirty child’s life. The only one to look at him with genuine concern, genuine affection, never lifting a finger to hurt him. His prince had protected him, given him a reason to live. When he first gave himself to his god, it had been purely devotion. Only his god could save such an ugly creature and not think twice about it. Only his god could continue to watch and protect over the monster who sheltered in his old shrines, to feed him his offerings, to protect him from the rain with an umbrella.

No matter how many times his god fell, he came back stronger. Every battle, every wound, every trap set for his god was met head on, whether he was fearful or not. His god graced him with his presence and Hua Cheng could never pay it back, but he tried. He dies proudly for his prince, with the upmost honor to his god. He’s forged into powerful ghost, pushing his body to the limits each passing decade to simply become strong enough to protect his god, the only person deserving of this world. His god shouldn’t need to suffer any longer, Hua Cheng loves his god far too much to let his cruel world continue to sink its teeth into his God’s pure heart. He’d falling in love with the god who gave his life meaning.

<>

Feng Xin had left his prince. He’d like to say he never looked back, that he respected his highness’s wishes and disappeared, but that simply wasn’t true. He loved the prince, and his prince had showed that love back ten fold. Cultivation did not stop Feng Xin from courting his prince, having enjoyed the years of fluttering faces and shy comments. He had even falling for the loud-mouthed brat that did nothing but complain in the face of all, as if nothing ever satisfied him. His prince simply adored both of them, and Feng Xin could live with it, and he had.

He left after the light in his prince’s eyes finally burned out, when he finished tossing rice at Mu Qing, when he finished breaking down in his room. He hoped in a few days he’d come back, he’d come back and finally talk to his prince and comfort him. Something was wrong, maybe he needed time to open up. Yet, he returned to the small cottage torn down with no one in sight. Feng Xin had been tossed away and forgotten, and he hurt terribly.

<>

Mu Qing left the prince. He did it for his mother, and he had no room in his heart for regrets. He couldn’t continue this way, couldn’t they see that? Couldn’t Feng Xin and the prince see that this life was getting them no where? His heart was fighting with his brain for days. He loved them both; he loved the prince and he loved that lap dog that chose to now hover over him aswell. They would understand, Mu Qing had his mother to think of, they would understand.

He left his tears stinging his eyes, refusing to let them fall. Feng Xin dared to insult him? To belittle him while Xie Lian accepted it like it would be the last time he saw him! He couldn’t continue busking, he couldn’t continue nearly starving every night, sneaking away to the village to care for his family. They misunderstood him, and Mu Qing can’t spare the time to defend himself and his decisions. He ascended not long after, pride flooding his chest. He can help, he can find a way to help them both. But that, too, was denied. He watched as the prince begged him to believe him before racing down the mountain. Mu Qing had to think of the future. If he had defended the prince, the other gods would cast him away, and he’d be useless. He gave up when he felt rice being tossed at him by the man he loved, screaming in his face. They treat him like filth under their shoes, and he doesn’t look back as he felt.

<>

Hua Cheng lost his god. He would never regret giving his undead life for a second time if it meant keeping his god out of harms way, but he lost him entirely. The young soldier, a ghost flame, a wrath, all in the name of his prince. He didn’t leave his side, not one moment. He stayed while he was humiliated, while he was stumbling drunk, while a deviled sword plowed into immortal flesh. He stayed while his God cursed the world, cursed the kingdom of Yong’an. He stayed, and he served as he should. He was his God’s most devoted follower. Turning that terrible sword and carving into his own flesh was a sacrifice he wished he could make ten times over, the only regret was to see the devastating look in his prince’s eyes. His god should never mourn his loss, he will be back.

Eight centuries left Hua Cheng with another regret that day. One sacrifice lost his god. Even as thousands of butterflies killed themselves in search of his highness, for any trace of his existence left in the world. He feared the worse; was he dying, bleeding out? Was he fighting many wars, internal and external? Was his god all alone, starving and humiliated? Living so long left many chances to get killed or worse. He god will never bare the scars of his suffering on his skin, but his brain will remember. Eight centuries of searching, of being separated. His god ascended a third time, because his god was simply that amazing. He approached the mountain, leaving the past behind him and staring into his future.

<>

Xie Lian was both loved and hated. Adored and envied. A god and a scrap collector. He’s loved for many years and thanked the heavens that some were worth remembering. He remembered his friends; Xie Lian believed them to still be friends, he hopes when they meet again, they’ll forgive his past. While those old feelings have long past, he appreciates the love he had, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. His long life has left him alone most centuries, hurt and desperate. He ascended a third time in his sleep, and he feels himself sheepish. Were Feng Xin and Mu Qing still waiting on their fallen prince, their disgrace of a god? Would they shun him, perhaps they’d forgotten their past together, not that Xie Lian could blame them, who would want to remember him?

But they did welcome him-sort of. Mu Qing was cold, but Fu Yao acted as a younger version of him; so playful and full of energy. Feng Xin was hesitant around him, but Nan Feng was fussy and defensive, making the pair argue. Xie Lian never let on he knew; why would he? His friends were back, bickering, but lively. He relished in the nostalgia, soaking up these moments before they slipped from his fingers, as life does with all good things.

San Lang was a welcomed change to his life. The ghost king, ironically, was full of life and wonder. He managed to shut down Mu Qing and Feng Xin’s arguing, supply information where it’s needed and asked for, spends time to truly listen to Xie Lian talk. It’s been so long since Xie Lian spoke to someone as attentive as his ghost king. He knew who the young man was the moment he hoped into the ox cart, but why ruin it? He quite liked Hua Cheng, and with his luck, it won’t last. He wants to make it last. He wants Mu Qing and Feng Xin to bicker inside the shrine while San Lang praised his cooking. He wants his fleeting moments of happiness to stretch for days-years-centuries. The scrap collector tries not to ask much of the heavens, but he silently pleads for this.

Xie Lian has loved before, coming in many different forms. He still loves his friends, far differently than his youth. Xie Lian loves his San Lang, far more passionately than he had anyone else. Every bone in his body craves his-now husband, to cherish him has he’d been cherished, to worship him has he’d been worshiped, to give him all of himself. And he does. He gives everything he has to offer, and his San Lang is quick to return it. He reunites with his old friends, makes plenty of new ones. That empty spot in his heart now overflowing with affection after eight hundred years. He never wants to get used to this, he never wants to rid of it.

Xie Lian loves everyone, everyone loves Xie Lian.

[xxcyberghostxx]

i just think bill wouldn’t ever once actually consider being romantically entangled with anyone that worships/worshiped him at any point.

i think he categorizes everyone into two camps: stupid, and not-stupid (NOT the same thing as smart) and if you worship him (which in his mind he views as The Sensible Thing To Do) you get put in the stupid camp. and live there forever. sorry :/

[missus-paint]

mother of mine

[devieboii]

My full moon activities fluctuate from being these super elaborate rituals to being like “Hey Hekate can I just play video games in your honor for an unreasonable amount of time tonight 🥺” and She’s always like: “👍 go for it kid”

[shurisneakers]

ok and if i wrote harmless in a different font. so what

[bytedykes]

always funny to me when people interpret liushen in a way where lqg idolizes sqq. i just don't think it's true. shen jiu has probably kicked lqg in the dick before and i don't think you can come back from that in any way that matters

[guppygiggles]

Giving me wholesome lee brainrot this early? At my morning shift? How dare-

You're too much, Casper! You're making my heart melt and yearn for positive touch, and I can't-

Reading your ramblings makes me happy in ways I can't describe :3

Ksksjshchfjwh 😭💙 Dude, I just love to ramble about loving somebody up with tickles and kisses... /////// I'm so glad you appreciate my yapping about it!!

[jrueships]

Is there a reason why sauce refuses to follow more than 99 accounts on instagram ? He’s such a control freak lmfao

LOL yea ive always noticed that like wtf 😭 okay 😭

he only follows 99 people on Twitter too, and i think i remember seeing him post on his twit like during the beginning of his first season in the NFL abt who he should follow to reach 99 bcs I think he had 98 at that time? And he wanted 99?

And on his insta i think (less sure on this) he posted a story that said like 'ok... who to make my 100th following 😻' but i think he only wanted it to be a stupid idk a 'fellow famous internet influencer' like he is , so famous, so self-loving, so empath .

so like. he either didn't follow anyone or he quickly unfollowed to remain at 99

he is... so strange. Such an odd critter. but my guess is he's keeping 99 as his ideal number rn and will unfollow whatever normie/less famous person he needs to in order to keep his precious 99 when he has to follow a more famous person,

or he's just holding out for a special someone to make his 100th follower ( and then later unfollow someone else he doesn't care abt rn to keep his number 99) bcs he WANTS to make ppl feel special, but also. He is weird. And he likes the number 99. And he's weird. And im going to give him a wedgie

[zoobus]

I Shall Master this Family! is a rare princess story where the art is like, outrageously skilled, unique in its consistent level of detail, unreal historical fashion dedication, so much so that it successfully carries what's an overall mid story. You might notice that it's a mid story (I certainly have) but they throw you another sumptuous princess Guinevere sleeves and you're goaded into another chapter.

Normally this isn't enough. If anything I've found too good art highlights bad writing, thoughts wandering to how the artist(s) deserves better than the slog they're supporting.

But I'm stuck with this annoying isekai girl ignoring all the more emotionally intriguing subplots in favor of chapter upon chapter of isekai-based ego-stroking (can you believe this little kid came up with this brilliant business plan? Can you believe a 9yo identified the genius of a commoner? It's like she knows everything before it happens! Lay it on thicker!) because a) artist team that can conceptualize adults over 30??? b) artist team that draws old women??? Real ones???

b2) men too though it's more impressive that they drew a beard like they've actually seen a beard before. Old guys are common but distinguished and healthy looking ones less so

c) you can tell this is based on a historical fashion because nobody invents cultural male-garb unless they're meant to be eroticized. I can't think of another story where any real attention was put into what the guys are wearing unless cleavage was involved

I don't know if I even care for the fashion itself - that there's conspicuous effort into its portrayal puts it in a class of its own. Everyone else is satisfied with the certified male love interest paizuri shirts, cravats with medievallish suits, and generic npc peasantwear.

d) I don't know how many times I've given up on a comic because the artist had a fetish for blondes, making it nigh impossible to tell anyone apart. This story takes place in a Scots-inspired land, so a sizable chunk of the cast are redheads and the endless shades of red and curl textures never gets old. I like that blondes are still sort of gingery and shout out to the colorist for not being weak, blue-eyed apologist.

It came far too late but I finally understood why Shananet fell for this loser's act when he whipped out the brown/blonde puppy combo. Wish the writers were capable of juggling plots so we could have seen more of it.

I'll have to get into it in another post but the writing flaws are grating in a skill issue way, maybe too much ambition that should have been scaled back. For example writing men as being generally less substantial, more hysterical, while making women intelligent, well-rounded, characters with depth of various alliances only works if your story focuses on the latter. If you give me cold, calculating ice queen, I won't be satisfied with the plot spending more time on the dumbass loser 30-something eldest son throwing tantrums when his stupid plans fail. Likewise, how do you think it feels learning that the cool-headed, clever woman who gave up on potentially taking over the clan for a worldwind romance was played for a simp by her (quite obviously) less intelligent husband who doesn't even hide his seething hate for her family well? It makes everyone look like a clown. Writing structure crit imminent

It's a shame but unfortunately I like the way it looks too much to drop it😔

[wickedhawtwexler]

yeah it's important to create a character who's flawed but likeable, realistic, interesting, dynamic, etc. but the most important part of creating a character is asking yourself: will the people of www.tumblr.com go insane about them?

[xenomorphicdna]

SooooOOO Hi im about to go on a rant about ancients, guardians and then the uh before ancients

Copy pasting a lot of this from a discor A

Was on tumblr and then @soaricarus said what if the depths weren't made by the ancients? (Get tagged- you have no idea how much thinking I've done since you made that post)

And got me thinking, is there evidence to support such a theory?

And,,, perhaps yes

The base theory is that the depths and all that is there come from a civilization before our ancients, they simply stumbled across it.

The subterranean echo - two sprouts, twelve brackets - says "so down into the depths you go as so many others before you, drawn to the void again and again, an endless drip drip drip. Much like these tunnels and caves that amuse me so. The bones of forgotten civilisations, heaped like so many sticks."

And I'm thinking why be so amazed by caves and tunnels and such if you made them yourself, right? Bones of civilizations,,,like the buildings that are down there?

We also see statues there and I ran off to my favourite interactive rain world map aaaaand the depths were actually pitch black and uh I went and got screenshots myself-

So these statues, clearly some person right, but they don't look like our ancients. There's no fancy masks you see on their stuff, the whole of depths is weird and odd and different from the rest of the game.

And then we have the guardians with their think rings which are completely unlike anything else

Now the thing that bothers me in all this is our good ol' karma ten symbol

We see that one everywhere, from the guardians, all over the depths statues and ancients. I could say that the karma ten symbol originates from the depths and the ancients just sorta adopted it,,,if you'd like

Back to the guardians um, why have guardians if they're gonna stop you ascending if your karma's bad - I mean yeah safety feature

But clearly the ancients didn't care if they ran through and some got echoed

And the architecture in the depths is different too, you don't really see designs like that anywhere else

And since we find the karma ten symbol there then the symbol is like old old.

The more I think about it the more this makes sense

The ancients dig around make train tunnels, weird dreams, yo let's dig deeper, holy shit caves with weird buildings omg whats that thing with the weird halo.

They go in check it out find the void take a dip in the kfc deepfryer, there's ghosts now. So if 2+2=4 then a correlation must have been made between all the x's everywhere and the void. And we got ourselves the spread of the ascension symbol.

And the iterators- they got a halo.

Not a fancy think ring but it too spins around and changes shape much like if you piss off the box with the rebranded twitter for a face

There's something goin on here

And I know I sound crazy and perhaps I should have rewritten this to make it sound less insane but we this is just what we got so I'm goin with it

I managed to climb onto one hehe look

Ok ok, but guardians??? Why do they have four arms?? What's the point??

Now the statues, yeah they got two legs and a head but what is up with the torso. I actually don't know. BUt if you reaaaally wanna stretch it a bit then I guess maybe some four arm structure silhouette is there perhaps maybe?

[kavehater]

Most funniest thing ever btw is a person who likes alhaitham and kaveh and has alhaitham as his pfp and kaveh in his banner yet is a raging Zionist

[invinciblerodent]

oh no

oh no this is so bloody adorable

[theragamuffininitiative]

😅

[neuromantis]

there's a point to me saying that i am not a good person. that i am damaged and unlikeable and insane and toxic. that i did absolutely terrible shit to a lot of people.

and every time people deny it, i wonder why, because it's true.

but also every time people deny it, it hurts like hell.

i want someone to finally see me. i want someone to stop trying to make me feel better about it by denying it. because that's the absolute truth. and you denying it makes me feel like shit.

i want someone to finally see me for me and love me even if i am broken or evil or whatever.

because i am so done with people in denial. because the person who keeps telling me all these things, that i am smart, that i am sane, that i am kind, that i am beautiful, that i am strong, that i am good, no, more than good, actually "perfect"... that person fucking makes me vomit in my mouth. how can he claim to know me and love me "despite everything" if he won't even accept who i actually am? if he doesn't know a thing about me?