#ITS SO GOOD SHUT THE FUCK UP

[vanyafresita]

started listening to the magnus protocol and oh my god

[aphel1on]

AURGH auwarghh the autistic parental trauma... the epi was wacky hijinks then dropped this on us out of nowhere... (sobs) laios... laiiiiooooos

[p4nishers]

"I'm a little bemused as to why crowley would risk destruction for you, you don't seem his type at all" that was. actually a thing they said. like that's a thing that was written in the script and said by an actor on good omens. then michael sheen had the absolute AUDACITY to raise his eyebrows like a fucking bitch who knows exactly what's crowley's type and that it's only ever been him. like!!! this is too gay even for me holy shit

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.

[lilithofpenandbook]

Literally how do you even respond to that?

[humanmorph]

"[high pitched and tinny] Let’s dive in. Let’s dive in. It’s time to dive in. Get ready to [audio distorts and slows] dive. Diiive. Diiiiie…" (The Road to PALISADE 20: City Planning Department)

so that's what i've been working on for the past 2 weeks! i wanted to draw something for this intro ever since i first listened to it (as a companion piece to my other gur drawing, though it of course ended up being way bigger in scale), but it only really gripped me about halfway through PALISADE ep 18. the next morning after that i listened to this narration on repeat for about 45 minutes and then made a big sketch on 4 sheets of paper at my desk at work.

anyways, i haven't listened to the new episode yet but i think i'm probably ready for whatever they're gonna throw at us with the next sortie. i'm gonna believe, against it all, in millennium break. for gur

(i recommend listening along while scrolling! + transcript btw. if anything is hard to read)

[svtskneecaps]

dude i fucking love how this server has communication as its premise and built into its fucking core. i fucking love that. bc it's one thing to be like 'this server is about multilingual communication and cultural exchange!!' bc that could present in any NUMBER of ways but like. with the federation and the eggs and a common shared goal they all decided WE ARE A TEAM. and like, ok,

when baghera was sus of jaiden because of the thing when pomme died and jaiden had been the reason baghera left her side for the only time that day, i wasn't even worried. i wasn't worried bc i was like "we just wait. because i know they will TALK TO EACH OTHER." and I WAS RIGHT. TWO DAYS LATER IT WAS ALL CLEARED UP AND BAGHERA WAS HELPING HER OUT WITH CUCURUCHO

and the ordo theoritas is functionally a secret organization. it would be SO EASY to gatekeep the lore, on grounds of "the federation is always watching and anyone could be a spy" and yet the ordo theoritas says that, like bad SAYS THAT, says OUT LOUD, "anyone could be a traitor" and then turns around and goes "hey person i've had a few days' worth of conversations with, here's a detailed rundown of everything we've learned about the island's mysteries, and the secret location of the ordo base". SOFIA was supposed to be secret from everyone, and for a little bit she was. but now like, the ordo theoritas is showing her to everyone. it would be SO EASY to hide things and to gatekeep things but they just. don't do it. here's the supercomputer!!!! don't forget to grab her waystone so you can come back anytime!!!

bad learns something. "i need to tell forever/cellbit/baghera". forever figures out a new way to protect the eggs, and he gets it to everyone within days. cucurucho tries to have a secret conversation and the entire server knows about it almost instantly and there are three people buried in the walls reading the subtitles and giving each other meaningful glances

i love it. i love it. miscommunication plotlines drive me up the fucking wall and the fact that i wasn't even SCARED when jaiden and baghera could easily have angled into an angsty tangled web of that and instead just MET WITH EACH OTHER AND EXPLAINED EVERYTHING AND CLEARED THE AIR ALMOST IMMEDIATELY was so fucking breathtaking. and this is a multilingual server. this is a MULTILINGUAL SERVER. i love it. i love it so much i want to cry. it's a server for communication and people Communicate, it would have been SO EASY to slip into monolingual factions and stick to the familiar but they DIDN'T. they DIDN'T. WE GET TO HAVE A THEORY TABLE WITH SO MANY LANGUAGES SITTING AROUND IT. we get to have conspiracy walls in every language!!!! idk sometimes i forget how fucking CRAZY all this is, like the scale of what they've accomplished

so yea thank you to quackity and the qsmp admins for this, and thank you to the streamers for hearing 'this is about connections' and taking it ENTIRELY to heart, and also thank you to whoever the fuck decided to give quackity's school class the job to look after a fucking egg to learn about parenting. bc holy shit. holy shit.

[fraternum-momentum]

WE'RE GETTING EVICTED FROM OUR APARTMENT.

[sparklingpax]

logging on here to say that. I truly think,

"I am but a soldier, Megatron. And you are a prisoner of your own twisted delusions!"

has to be one of The rawest lines Optimus said of the whole series. and I think about it often......anyway

[cynicallyneutral]

very invisible but very mean audience

[marinaradave]

shadow finally caving and barely giving in to his romantic attraction to an impulsive, annoying yapper only under the threat of total ontological collapse is so funny

[rapidhighway]

literally obsessed with this image hes so fuckignnngg tiny hes standing on his toes

[superbellsubways]

are you guys seeing this. rn hello can angone help me hey.helo uuuuuwhw wbwjalwnwbwk ahwbwj hello Tumblr

[geodethecrow]

Lord help me I'm falling in love with my friends

[bunnihearted]

ཐི ₍ᐢ. ̞.ᐢ₎ ཋྀ

[densewentz]

hear me out, post-divorce girl!Dad Crowley

im not even kidding you guys, the best thing for Crowley after all this is just for him to be a girl Dad. Go find himself the weirdest most unhinged least likely up for adoption daughter to dump all his love onto. One who thinks snakes are awesome and who screeches happily when Crowley drives too fast and who thinks her Dad's the absolute coolest person on or off earth. She'll constantly be stealing his sunglasses or demanding her own pair so they match. No doubt she's obsessed with fungus and she probably draws the most fucked up stuff that Crowley then hangs around the flat, and she'll yell at the plants too with her hands on her hips. On nights after goofy dinners, Crowley will hoist her up on his shoulders and help her accurately place the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling and softly answer every question she ever has. And it won't even phase her when sometimes her Dad is her Mom or her Parent for a while or vice versa. And she'll be ready to full on throw hands with anyone who gives her Dad sad-face. She probably ends up biting Aziraphale when he eventually staggers back into the picture, and the Angel will have to contend with the fury of a real hellion for a while before she trusts him enough to let him anywhere near Crowley. Also i think her name should be Hanna.