#am I popular now?

[blorbo-from-the-cosmos]

Shifting is not real get help

I’m going to be optimistic and assume this comes from a place of genuine concern and thoughtfulness, so I do appreciate your concern <3

To be honest though anon, shifting is the thing that has helped me drastically improve my life and I really think that without it I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I meditate daily. I appreciate the little things like the rays of sunshine or feel of a breeze on my skin. I believe in myself, like, actually believe in myself. I’m confident and happy and I take care of myself not because it’s a chore but because it makes me feel good and I feel like I deserve to be taken care of. I love myself :)

All of this is coming from someone who didn’t think they would nor wanted to live to see their 21st birthday. This comes from someone who couldn’t love themselves no matter how hard they tried, and who was stuck in a rut believing they’d live a meaningless and passionless life until it eventually came to an end.

I’m glad I found shifting because the community (while not perfect in the slightest, I definitely won’t lie about that) helped me find a light and showed me that no matter the reality, life is worth living and you can do anything you set your mind to because not even the sky is a limit my friend! ♡

So thank you for your concern, but I promise I‘ve found all the help I need :)

[songforaname]

Hello! If getting a regular reminder to brush and floss on your dash might be helpful, I've started a Tumblr for that. Find it @brosser-les-dents hope it might help you!

i got this at like 2pm

[unusual-user-name]

B A B A N A

[castielsprostate]

breaking the sign in two by how hard im tapping it

[issahanko]

Holly smokes! I have so many sex bots following! How should I speak to them?

[lae-zels]

The one you gravitate towards the first time playing any cRPGs. Included Pillars of Eternity races and Divinity Original Sin ones.

[amphibianaday]

day 1421

[artromanthur-lester]

a malevolent fanart? on a blog with a malevolent reference in the username? it may seem unlikely.

(doctor who quote my beloved)

[id: a coloured image of arthur lester from malevolent, drawn waist up. he is a white man with short brown hair and a moustache, wearing a white shirt with some red splashes. his skin is covered in scars which resemble cartoonish yellow stars and his left pinky is wooden. he is gently kissing his left hand while standing half-turned back to the viewer. next to him a text in big white letters reads “do you think i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?”. the background is yellow. end id]

[sincerely-sofie]

It’s Narilamb fankid hours.

[lwh-writing]

Skulker's Boring Hunt

“And now that we have located the proper biome, we are able to safely release the beast back into the wild.”

Skulker opens the cage door and turns the camera so that the virtual audience can watch as the peryton returns to the wilderness of the Ghost Zone, all the while silently bemoaning how he got here.

Ever since the existence of ghosts had become public knowledge, the Whelp had been determined to improve relations with humans. Part of that outreach effort included a handful of ghosts selected to begin ‘virtual relations’ through a process called ‘streaming’ and ‘vlogging’ so that they could ‘show the world that they weren't that different from everybody else.’

Skulker, honestly, couldn't give less of a damn about humans and what they thought of his kind. The only reason (and he very much means only reason) he had put his name on the volunteer list was for the easy access to the Living Realm and the new variety of hunts.

The Whelp, though, had put stipulations on Skulker’s ticket out of the Ghost Zone. Firstly, if he ever hunted in the Infinite Realms, he had to document and explain the animals he hunted so as to provide ‘educational value to his viewers’ or other such nonsense. Secondly, if any dangerous (non-sapient) ecto-animal was loose in the Living Realm, Skulker had to drop everything and stop its rampage. And last, and certainly least, Skulker couldn't kill anything.

Skulker had tried to reason his way out of that one, claiming that it contradicted his Obsession. The Whelp had tried to reason right back, claiming that he could still feed his Thrill of the Hunt without slaughtering something on live air. They had settled on a compromise: Skulker would run a poll with his viewers, and they would decide whether he gained a new pelt or not.

The fickle humans had, to date, always voted for catch and release.

“As this week's hunt has now concluded, it is time to decide what or who I will be hunting next week. The polls are now open.”

Skulker scrolled through his Fenton-Foley-Phone as he let his puny audience make their decisions. Ember had posted a recent picture of a restaurant in Barcelona, the latest city on her grand tour. Skulker gave it a like and looked back at the now concluding poll, a little surprised at the results.

Of the ten options given by his chat and selected by his moderators, there were a few picks that were always nominated but never won. It seemed his viewers desperately wanted to see him take on a dragon, a gorgon, a vampire, and some human named Lex Luthor. This week was no different, as all four of those options were just barely beaten by a new entry to the lineup.

“It appears that next week I will be hunting the Joker.”

Immediately, the chat exploded into chaos.

wonder_womanSIMP: pog

StardustSinger: skulker vigilante arc?? 👀

Penglow: RIP watch out for the Batman!

rock-mayo: RIGGED

golfAceVendetta: pog

OpperantParrot: LETS FUCKING GO!!!!

the_general_plum: :D

carbon-ham: D:

LizardSquid: E

egg_composition: gotham is going to chew you up and spit you out lmao

OtterCat: D:

“And once again, it’s time to decide my prey’s fate. Type one to vote kill, type two to vote spare. Voting is now open.”

That prompted another flood of responses, and Skulker returned to his phone, scowling a bit at his girlfriend’s posts. He was happy for Ember, of course he was. She was fulfilling her dream and chasing her Obsession, how could he be anything but ecstatic and proud of her success? He just missed her, though he would never admit it aloud.

Hm. Perhaps he could do a little solo hunting and send her a new pelt. Something to remind her of the Ghost Zone while she was away.

The timer went off, and Skulker dejectedly checked the results of the poll, only to do a quick double-take before smiling sharply at the results.

“Results are in. It seems this week I will be hunting, and killing, the Joker.”

The chat exploded with excitement right before Skulker started saying his outro and mentally mapping out his hunt in the coming week, unaware that at that very moment, a complication had arisen in his plan.

TheBloodSon: It appears that this may be a problem.

[incorrect-league-of-villains]

Tomura: Fuck off, old man.

All for One: I'm not that old. How old do you think I am?

Tomura: The last number.

[revenantghost]

It is so wild to me that the Trigun manga was just on the fringe of the fandom before Tristamp, with ‘98 being the main focus.

I can see how it happened--when the anime was airing, anime was way more niche than it is now, and not everyone would have had easy access to buying it. And if you wanted to read it online... good luck, as someone who was in those forum/Livejournal/Yahoo Groups trenches. Someone on translating your favorite manga was so much work, and it was incredibly uncommon for people to scan officially released manga back then. And from what I hear, the first scanlation was awful, willfully mistranslating things and painting the story and characters in a terrible light. By the time the full manga was released, many of the original fans probably moved on. It’s very different from the first anime, and for the younger audience that likely saw it, maybe a bit too much!

But now that Tristamp has thrust us all into Trimax hell, I deeply understand why Trimax Vash is one of the most common Vashes I see popping up in fanart and such. I love and am feral for ‘98 and Tristamp, you’ll find no slander for those here, but the manga stripped me down on an molecular level and rewired my entire brain and all my emotions. That story and those characters haunt me. Sometimes I’ll see a panel from the manga, not even one of the most impactful ones, and I need to take a moment to recover. I think about it daily. Though I just think about Trigun all day at this point who am I kidding. It’s so good. It’s too good. WHO GAVE IT THE RIGHT TO BE THIS GOOD.

Anyway, if you haven’t read the Trigun manga yet, go check out @trigun-manga-overhaul​ because you’re missing out on one of the best stories ever written.

[ryllen]

Perhaps ... 😯 [x]

[venlazlo]

felt the need to redraw this post

[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.

[itslilacokay]

ACTUAL CHODARK?!?! WHAT THE FUCK

bonus