#anyone who knows me is not surprised

[zenyteehee]

What does it say about me that Kim Hae-il dressed as The Joker might just be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?

[starbuck]

reading and watching “classic” books and films is such an interesting experience because, before you get into them, when you only know them by name and maybe the vaguest plot outline, they’re intimidating and stuffy and up on a pedestal, but then you finally take the leap and check them out and realize that almost every story that’s achieved such a legendary level of popularity did so because something in its emotional core reached out and grabbed a lot of people by the throat and you are NOT immune.

[lovesickeros]

☆ choir of the faithless

{☆} characters venti, kaeya, the abyss {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings violence (minor) {☆} word count 2.7k

One moment, you lay wistlessly in your bed, head full of fleeting thoughts and ideas you bounced around internally. You were moment away from falling asleep, the draw of exhaustion unraveling the threads of your mind, pulling you apart and weaving your thoughts into the fathomless depths of a boundless dream.

The next you conclude that is exactly where you must be – blinking rapidly against the bright sun that bears down upon you through the massive branches and array of thousands of leaves swaying above you. It can only be a dream because you know those roots, those winding branches and the soothing song of wind chimes as leaves rustle and sway in the invisible path of the wind. It feels too real, but don't many dreams? You reach your hand sluggishly skyward, imagining the feeling of touching those leaves so high above, admiring the way light fractures as it passes through the tree so massive it blots out the sky above you. You'd have to crane your neck just to catch a proper glimpse of solemn blue past the swaying ocean of vivid greens.

It's beautiful.

It's familiar in the way home is. That warmth that settles in your chest, the solemn, quiet moments between. You've spent hours staring up at this tree, both your first steps and your last, simply admiring it all for what fleeting moments you can cling to.

You've played the game long enough – strayed towards its familiar branches at they reach towards the heavens – to recognize Windrise at even a passing glance. The perfect portrait of Mondstadt – the massive oak at the center, the statue of the seven with its hands outstretched and its wings curled protectively around itself..a memory of something you've seen a hundred thousand times, lingering like a ghost amongst its branches and roots, clinging to its familiarity. Maybe Mondstadt isn't the most complex, or gorgeous, or detailed..but it was the first stepping stone to the world of Teyvat you knew. It was the beginning of the Travelers journey and your own – the first, hesitant step into a game you'd learned to love.

You might as well enjoy it might it lasts, right?

This tumultuous, fragile dream of yours.

You sit up with no small amount of hesitancy, taking in the rolling, distant hills and far away cliffs. Mondstadt isn't that far – far enough that it bleeds into the scenery, but you feel that pang of fragile familiarity seeing it in the distance anyway. In contrast to its nation, Mondstadt stood like a towering beacon of stability, stark grey against the ever expanding hues of green and blue, a symbol of tranquility among the monster-laden lands beyond its walls. You still come by once and a while, whether or not it's your favorite place to linger – if only to reminisce and ponder the countless hours you've sunk into the game. To take a moment and admire the nation that had slowly dragged you into loving the world you've become so familiar with, to truly take a moment and process your endless journey further, deeper, into the mystery of Teyvat as it slowly unraveled like a spool of thread.

It felt almost real. The grass beneath you, the wind rustling the leaves and swirling around you, the warmth of the distant sun as it stood unwavering at its peak – but it was a dream. Vivid, maybe, but still a dream.

You didn't want to wake up from it, though.

It'd be nice to stay here for a little longer, to be able to wander past these fragile barriers of the world around you – but would you wake if you longed to see those distant horizons? Would you even remember this dream? Maybe not.

But the endless urge to explore – to see and truly experience that distant, familiar visage for yourself – was calling. A craving to run your hand along towering stone walls, to trace the intricate lines of the alchemy table you'd used hundreds of times, to get lost in the endless books tucked away in the library..a longing that you could never fulfill.

But you'd try anyway, wouldn't you?

You'd make the most of this fleeting dream – stumbling like a newborn fawn after seelies, watching from hidden perches as the occasional cart rolled by on dirt roads, observing the distant hilichurl with a look of solemn understanding. Re-familiarizing yourself with the paths you'd traveled hundreds of times, treading along the same, curious line you'd taken the Traveler.

Maybe it was just an aspect of the dream, but the wildlife didn't run away like it did in the game – the wild boars startled when you approached, but they'd settle down and continue their idle grazing before long. The occasional crystalfly fluttered to your outstretched hands like a moth to flame, the cool, subtle touch of anemo against your skin like a soft breeze, ephemeral and fleeting.

Even the squirrels did not flee at your boundless curiosity – it is as if you are a ghost, perhaps, wandering these wide spanning plains in search of..well, you aren't sure. You let your feet guide you, just like you used to. There is charm in the aimless exploration, a sort of comfort in wandering and observing the world through new eyes.

Perhaps you should've taken more caution when you reached Mondstadt itself – a dream was a fragile thing, after all..there was no telling when a dream could meld into a nightmare. But you were in the nation of freedom, who could blame you for throwing caution to the wind?

Uncertain as your steps across the bridge were, it was tranquil – ducks skimmed beneath the bridge, fish dotted the serene surface, clear waters rippling with their movements. There was something about it all that felt more alive. It felt more real, for a moment, but what an absurd thought that must be.

A dream is no more real than Teyvat.

And at the gates of the city, at last, you feel relief – the eyes of NPCs glide over you like water over the back of a swan, allowing you to simply step past them without even an utterance of a question. Up close, with your own eyes to guide you, Mondstadt is more alive than it's ever been. The people converse and laugh and breathe – the small details you'd miss looking through the limited frame of the Traveler peek through, now.

You get so lost in admiring it all you almost trip over a cat that strays near your feet, rubbing against your ankles. Your hand twitches, as if to reach down and pet it, to feel it's fur beneath your palm – but the small voice that flows from the tavern stalls you in your tracks. You don't have to turn around to know who it is, you've heard her voice enough times to recognize it – and, really, you'd rather not get caught up in the logistics of interacting with the characters in a dream at the moment. It's not like they can see you, besides. Everyone else didn't even seem to know you were there at all.

And you were here to explore, first. You could test the limits of the dream later, once you're satisfied you've seen it all.

You sidestep the cat – as much as it pains you to ignore it, you really don't know how much time you're afforded in this dream – and take up wandering undeterred. Maybe you'll check out the library, next..you only read a measly fraction of the books there, after all, and the wonder of something new is a tempting lure. Maybe if you get the chance, you'll seek out your favorite character – even if the dream ends there, it'll at least dampen the disappointment when you awake in your own bed again.

Mondstadt is still relatively small, despite seeming so much bigger – by the time you're slinking into the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, your legs are aching from all the walking. Even if you don't find anything too interesting here, well, you'll take sitting down for a moment to catch your breath at least.

The game made it seem so easy to get from Windrise to the city, but your legs practically putty when you peered into the library with a healthy amount of caution – it's not like anyone has even glanced your way since you woke up in this dream, but you knew not to test it around Lisa and her books..

Even if it was a dream, waking up because you got electrocuted by a pissed off librarian didn't sound very appealing.

Especially because, along the way, you'd become the perch for a handful of anemo crystalflies. You'd almost forgotten some linger on the rooftops until now..well, they seemed content to just rest on your limbs, and it's not like they weighed much if anything. It'd probably be fine – how much harm could a crystalfly cause?

The steps down into the lower level of the library creaked slightly as you slowly took in the grandiose room, trying to glimpse some semblance of familiarity amongst the hundreds of book covers nestled into the shelves. Maybe having a reference of just ten or twenty books wasn't exactly the most extensive list – you could barely even remember what books you mindlessly picked up chasing glittering spots like a moth chases the flickering flame.

Maybe you'll see Venti's statue, next – it was impressive enough in game, you could only imagine how it looks in person, how the smooth stone feels beneath your fingertips.

For now, you scour the rows and rows of book, gleaning the contents of the books from the assorted covers and titles so foreign to you. You recognize a scarce few, those you picked up on your first, brisk walk through the library scouring for treasure just to be disappointed at the lack of it. These days you're just happy to bask in the atmosphere and reminisce here – unless you're dragging your feet to do your Theater for the month. Not a lot of room for reminiscing when you're busy fighting for your life to finish on time.

Still, you're almost half disappointed there hasn't been many playable characters around..sure, maybe they'd just ignore you like the other NPCs, but it'd still be nice to see them. If Dawn Winery wasn't so far away, you'd consider dropping by, just to see, but..well, you've hiked long enough, personally.

Though as much as you'd like to busy yourself in the library, you do want to make the most of your time, too. You don't pay much attention to the patter of footsteps as you ascend the stairs and awkwardly step past the guard outside the library, the brief blur of reds and blues in the corner of your eyes gone before you can truly see its source. Well, there's more to see anyway – the cathedral was impressive enough when you first saw it in game, you can only imagine it's magnificence now.

All the stairs definitely feels worse now that you can't just haul yourself up a wall like in game, though. Maybe it would've been better to rest a bit more in the library, but you really didn't want to waste this chance..how often did you really have this much control over a dream, anyway? You feel lucky it hadn't turned into a nightmare.

And it was more than worth it when you crested the top of the stairs, the wind rushing past you for a brief moment and almost making you stumble as your eyes flit towards the towering stone you'd known so well. Hands outstretched and draped in robes, looking all the Archon they are..well, it was a lot more detailed like this. The lull of music doesn't escape you, either – because of course they'd be strumming that lyre beneath their own statue. Playing to an audience who knows not the bard that plays a melody of their own triumphs. The same bard who commands the wind as if an extension of themself, their voice the chimes that sing in tune with its winding paths, free and true.

Even if you've never heard the song they play before, it leaves a warm feeling in your chest – a homesickness, maybe, for a place you've never even been to. A longing for the world made up of lines of code and pixels on a screen. Endless yearning for a world not your own – a place you don't belong.

Poetic, isn't it?

Fitting, seeing as your audience is a bard who loves to tempt another into a riddle of their own, their silver tongue used for mischief rather than malice.

It wouldn't be so bad if you woke up now, you think. Lulled back to reality by the gentle strum of a lyre and the sweeping winds.

A reality all your own.

The harsh twang of a lyre brings you out of your aimless reverie, eyes of the teal ocean meeting your own in a moment of startling clarity. You are almost tempted to look behind you, for they must be perceiving another – but the empty, hollow thud of the lyre hitting the cobbled ground is like a bullet to the chest.

Beneath the shrouded eyes of an Archon, the wind coils into a tightly wound bolt that sings with danger, the draw of a string making your blood run cold and your instincts flare up.

Before you could even process the fact they'd just drawn a bow – the bow you had given them – the pillar of the corridor shattered like glass beneath the force of an elemental arrow, rubble dusting the cobblestone and dragging you out of your horrified stupor. If it hadn't been between the two of you, you can only dread to imagine what an arrow that pulverized rock would do to you.

There's a knot in your stomach as you turn to pace right back down the stairs, but you stutter at the sharp glint of metal and familiar blue hair that stands frozen mid-step – for a moment you can't even register any of this, your mind refuses to accept the stark, bleeding truth right in front of you, but the shrill sound of anemo forces you to make a choice. You only hesitate for a moment before throwing yourself over the edge of the wall, nearly choking on your saliva when you hit the ground – it was farther than you remember, but when your other choice is a blade and an arrow, you're thankful you haven't broken anything yet as you stumble to your feet.

Why haven't you waken up yet? You don't want to be in this dream anymore – you don't want anything to do with the nightmare it's become. Just seeing their faces, familiar and once so calm and warm, contrasted with the sharp edge of danger made you want to be sick.

Water – water will wake you up, right? That always works. Your feet slip on the dirt, struggling to gain purchase, forcing yourself to rush towards the cliffs edge – you have to repeat that it's just a dream like a mantra just to keep yourself calm when you look down, the lapping waves and jagged rocks making you almost reconsider. Not that you get the chance, really, when the wood of the tree beside you is splintered so violently you can feel them digging into your skin.

You don't even realize you've lost your footing until the edge of the cliff gives beneath your heel, air rushing around you and forcing what little breath was left in your lungs out violently. Your vision blurs into a collage of blue and grey, the sky above and the side of the cliff you find yourself falling from flooding your vision – you have to trust you'll simply wake up in your bed once you hit the water. You have to.

You don't want to imagine what it would mean if you didn't.

It's just a dream – all of it is just a dream, no. a nightmare.

And as the water parts from the impact of your body against the surface, it drags you down like an anchor weighed against your chest. Your vision bleeds into white, a chill enveloping your limbs until you feel numb – dead, probably. You must be dead. You died and you plead that you wake up back at home, exhaling whatever breath you had left, cold stinging your throat like shards of glass.

Anchored weightlessly in frigid cold, blinded by stark white, your fleeting thoughts are silenced as your consciousness flickers in and out, lingering long enough only to hear the murmur of a raspy, unearthly voice.

"I believe the experiment can be considered a success, Princess."

[reinvent-and-believe]

[vintrage]

nothing but respect for MY aegon

[ryllen]

You know I am surprise Sebek that is never jealous to anyone who is close to Yuu. It is a boys school and I can imagine some have crushes on her.

[anendtopursuit]

genuinely tearing up bc my boyfriend just told me what my xmas present was early AND HE GOT US FUCKING. STARKID TICKETS. FOR THE LONDON PALLADIUM. AND ALREADY CLEARED IT WITH HIS SISTER TO STAY WITH HER IN LONDON AGAIN SO WE DON'T HAVE TO BOOK A HOTEL. I AM GENUINELY SHAKING AND IN TEARS I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH

[gotchibam]

I'm sorry for posting this 2 weeks late but here it is!! This is the full canvas from the magma session hosted last 10/12!

Full pic: https://magma.com/shared/WaFnHaUsnz3LBsdsVv6RDS

Thanks so much to @doodlejoltik, @opossumonashelf, @kitsuroid, @sonikkuruzu, @protagpigeon, @owlmond, @plantollante (plus others I may have missed - lemme know so I can tag you!) for participating!! ;w; <3

[silieth]

Heinrix van Calox

[fandomsnrambles]

You know, i didnt really realise this until i was reading into it properly but

It says that Garmadon took more risks after the Aspheera incident, not after the venom. Which implies the venom didn’t make him reckless and impulsive which i’d assumed at first tbh, ive seen a lot of posts say it too.

Which kinda implies the venom more likely affects emotions which are already there and probably amplifies them by corrupting said feelings?

I mean, it says here Garmadon became impulsive after the Aspheera incident, where the FSM started talking to them less out of paranoia and probably realising his kids weren’t mature enough to know about certain things.

What if the reason why is that the Aspheera incident and his father’s reaction caused resentment to build up in Garmadon? Then Garmadon started questioning his father and started seeing much less reason to obey his father as well so took risks and broke rules.

Then he got bitten by a snake whose venom caused him to become more impulsive and affected his thoughts and feelings? I say this because of the “It’s all Wu’s fault!” thing he said in the show. In other books, Garmadon goes on to blame himself not Wu, which really shows how he really feels and how he first blamed Wu due to the venom, not because of how he felt.

(Tbh i also feel if Wu was the one who got bit, Garmadon would blame himself the same way Wu did for centuries after. Like “I’m his big brother! Why didn’t I go? Why was I such a coward?”

On another note, sad Wu hours 😔, my boy had to grow up fast because of trauma. To be honest, it’s not uncommon for 7-year olds to test the limits of whats allowed and whats not. Breaking rules is normal kid behaviour to me, it’s just more extreme because Wu and Garmadon are the FSM’s kids (whose basically god in Ninjago.)

I imagine 7-year old Wu didn’t properly understand the consequence or the concept of going onto Serpentine land. Which isn’t illogical, he’s 7 years old. I imagine Garmadon was at least 10 (or maybe Wu was 10 and Garmadon was 13 idk) which means Garmadon being more responsible is more understandable, he knew more than Wu and understood more.

I also still find it so so sad how their roles flipped. Wu was always more curious and explorative which is why he went everywhere. I bet you he was the kid running and throwing himself in mud with his brother screaming at him not too lmao, or even the kid eating random plants as Garmadon tried to stop him. Wu’s curiosity and recklessness is still in him in adulthood, he’s very unhinged if you actually look deeper into him.

[mobius-m-mobius]

Most purpose is more burden than glory. And trust me, you never wanna be the guy who avoids it ’cause you can’t live with the burden.

LOKI APPRECIATION WEEK 2023 | for @dailyloki Day 6 : Favorite Quote

[gomzdrawfr]

ok so I was doing fruit tier list after watching RTgames' video and decided to do cod ship tier list (something that was trending on the bird app before)

LINK HERE

Im tagging a few peeps to do it if you wanna!! if not its fine hehe

@justasmolbard @warenai @tapioca-milktea1978 @kaar-ne @tiggerriot @jgvfhl

reminder to all this is all for fun and people can have different opinions, don't be a prick :p

[kyouka-supremacy]

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[bossuary]

I keep thinking that Bloodbath would be so different if Lucanis had remembered to look UP. In The Wigmaker Job, after Lucanis successfully kills a bunch of bad guys from his hiding places atop statues, on shadowy rooftops, on the fucking ceiling like an errant moth, Illario jokes that if the Venatori ever learn to look up, Lucanis will be in trouble.

Illario should not have been able to get the literal drop on Lucanis.

I mean, he does have a blindspot when it comes to Illario, and that it's literal in this moment with Zara is pure DA humor. The game thinks it's very funny for Lucanis to constantly break all of his own rules: no talking during combat? Pfft. Try and stop him from snarking and/or cheerleading during a fight.

Lucanis and Spite struggle, argue, when they should be killing Zara. It's Lucanis' attempt to control Spite, to get some answers for his trauma, that gives Illario the opening he needs to drop down and kill Zara himself.

It's such an important moment, why wouldn't he check his corners? Why wouldn't he look up?

A year earlier. Hell, a month earlier, Lucanis probably wouldn't have hesitated. That someone sold him out would matter less than making Zara pay.

Right out of the Ossuary, this man would not forget to look up.

I reckon if Bloodbath happens right out of the Ossuary: --Lucanis and Spite kill Zara without hesitation. (Illario doesn't intervene? but if he does, Lucanis clocks him, maybe literally.) --Lucanis never learns who betrayed him. --Illario kills Caterina, she's too much of a liability. --Lucanis never reunites with his grandmother. --Illario uses Elgar'nan's trinket to control Lucanis and Spite. --Illario takes over the Crows (eventually, a blood-magic-tortured Spite turns Lucanis into a full abomination, and carnage ensues.)

Caterina's loss galvanizes Lucanis, but fulfilling her contract with Rook changes him. He's hurt, damaged, possibly irrevocably, by what happened at the Ossuary. Rook and Co. show him that he can't ignore the very human need to know why someone hurt him, and move past it. The WHY matters a great deal to everyone in the Lighthouse...because HE matters a great deal to them.

Spite doesn't give a shit about any of that. Spite wants what they AGREED on: to kill the Venatori witch. KILL HER. She's right-fucking-there. We have SO MANY KNIVES. She's got nothing but her birthday suit covered in coagulated blood. Fucking. Kill. Her.

So, in their hard-fought moment of vengeance, when Lucanis stands there not killing Zara, holding out for answers instead of being an assassin and fulfilling their pact, Spite goes goblin-mode in a nuclear way.

Spite embodies the person Lucanis was. Of course that guy is at odds with the person Lucanis is becoming. Change is hard. To quote Andrea Gibson,"it hurts to become." Boy howdy, does it ever.

Lucanis says it's throwing off his game. As a professional, he should be able to work, he's shouldn't have missed Ghilan'nain, yadda, yadda. But like, the game has changed. A professional assassin who accepts that his life has changed...that is a whole new kind of Lucanis. Worse...what if that's good?

Of course he doesn't look up.

Some part of him has already decided that he's not that guy anymore.

[clarasghosts]

Clara Oswald 🤝 Armand deceptive control freaks (+ the old men with person-shaped holes in their memory)

[cowchickenbeefpork]

It is fascinating to me that Edward nygma is the only man who has someone in love with them kill their lover and justify it. Every time this happens to a character besides from Ed it happens to a female character. The fact his own desperation to not face responsibility for doing that action toward a woman makes this more tragic