#doomsday for ts

[exvangelical]

conservative christians are like "THE ANTICHRIST WILL DESTROY ANYTHING THAT DOESNT ALIGN WITH HIS TEACHINGS" then do everything in their power to destroy anything that doesnt align with their teachings

[theperplexedpoet]

the whimper

and we are the whimper that ends the world our hands will strike midnight and blood will run the book of life's pages tattered and curled standing in awe asking, “what have we done?” season of declining benevolence motives here are steeped in malevolence designs lacking any intelligence marveling at our own irrelevance we are pushing the sands our pace has not tempered it's our blood and our hands for we are the whimper season of declining benevolence motives here are steeped in malevolence designs lacking any intelligence recognize one moment of relevance the whimper (2/5/23)

[starrypawz]

So I was thinking a bit about Linkin Park recently since essentially they are like my emotional support band that carried me through my teenage years and beyond and I listen to them constantly basically if I had to be honest and find it interesting how they basically swung into a more outwardly political bend/protest music for their albums released between 2007-2014

Minutes to Midnight: The title is a reference to the Doomsday Clock and the album is actually quite a noticeable 'Fuck you Bush' album with two particularly noticeable songs, Hands Held High (Iraq war/Conflict in the middle east) and Little Things Give You Away (Hurricane Katrina)

I think it's just generally their 'angriest' album with a degree of that being sort of self directed anger and frustration and also just general themes of regret but also a desire to like move on from past mistakes and do better it's ultimately just a little hopeful like it's early days and it's big emotions and complicated topics you can't quite grasp yet all you know is you are waking up and getting angry but you're maybe not quite sure at who or why you just know shits wrong.

Thousand Suns: This album is just broadly about the horrors of nuclear war/nuclear apocalypse and uses samples from Oppenheimer, Martin Luther King and Mario Savio (which this was actually my introduction to the 'bodies against the gears' speech) and I'd broadly class this one as a protest music album this is the album of like very loudly expressing your disapproval and starting to direct your anger outwards rather than inwards you are learning . There's still anger here but the sound is softer

Living Things: I'd say less of an outright target/theme compared to MtM and TS but it is generally a protest song album, lots of just general 'fuck the system' energy like wanting to hold those who harm accountable like this is an album of frustration really like of railing against systems holding you back as you can't quite break through yet and you're hurting. The sound here is very different broadly it's a noticeable departure from old Linkin Park

The Hunting Party: Like LT I think this album has like less of a focused theme, but I'd class it as protests all the same I think if MTM is anti Bush and TS is anti nuclear war this is... I think just broadly an anti war album if you look at it.

Like it's an album of frustrations again against systems that held you back and systems that made you complicit in harm and have also hurt you those themes of self directed anger and outwardly directed anger come through and I think it's... a lot of precise directed anger as it's sort of... that earlier angry sound you find in their early but more refined, a little softer like by this point you know anger is a tool and you know how to wield it properly and you want answers and you're taking someone to task like you're going down this fucker is coming down with you for what they did. The sound here is like between the two styles it's refined

Also I'd say that the band has always had something as Hybrid Theory and Meteora have that like angry thread of protest but I think it was more... adolescent like that kind of 'yeah fuck the man/the system' that was really popular in a lot of early 2000s music and from 2007 it felt more focused towards specific targets.

Also not to mention how a lot of the songs have themes of like anger against the self, and the frustration of knowing something is wrong with you but you don't know what.

Basically the band grew up I think.

And when you look at it it does sort of follow that pattern of being young, you get angry, you want to yell at the man but you don't really know what the man is and then you learn what the man is and you get angrier about it and want to do something and realise the structures you're stuck in that are holding you back and how they've maybe made you commit harm and you're angry at yourself but you're more angry at the people up top who mislead you and now you're taking names and taking people to task

[yorktaylor]

For this round, please put your music on shuffle and recommend a song as well as a blog that reminds you of that song, and it can be for any reason! Feel free to shuffle just Taylor Swift songs or do any music you like, but try to do ten songs if you can! Special thanks to Kaity (username youbelongwith) for this idea 🩷 

omg awesome okay these r from my playlist called “thirty seven snake emojis”

lavender haze, ts - @inthatlavenderhaze bc of ur url probably but also ily ur so cool and nice

celebrity, chloe moriondo - @cleradinthealps idk u just give off the vibe you’d like chloe

crushcrushcrush, paramore - @leolynn u posted that riot! vinyl in the server the other day and also. paramore are cool and so are you 😎

doomsday, lizzy mcalpine - @waiting-for-that-feeling again idk u just seem like you’d like lizzy

running out of time, paramore - @togetmeby fOR LITERALLY NO REASON UR JS THE FIRST PERSON THAT CAME TO MINE

tiwtdaf, gracie abrams - @taylanaenthusiast because u said this song is overrated 🫶🫶 lov u

all of the girls, ts - @lovesovernow love u addie

garden song, phoebe bridgers - @popsstar 🫶

tropic morning news,the national - @likeadevils you seem like the sad dad type idk pls don’t take that weird

stay, gracie abrams - @mrrorball

[brooklynbutterflyarts]

Beksinski Poster Art Print Cradle Beksinski Framed Print Molding: Professional studio flat top black maple wood molding Matting Around Print Glazing: Glass (included) Mounting Method: Hot Vacuum Press(will never fold or fade) Zdzisław Beksiński; 24 February 1929 – 21 February 2005) was a Polish painter, photographer, and sculptor, specializing in the field of dystopian surrealism. Beksiński made his paintings and drawings in what he called either a Baroque or a Gothic manner. His creations were made mainly in two periods. The first period of work is generally considered to contain expressionistic color, with a strong style of "utopian realism" and surreal architecture, like a doomsday scenario. The second period contained more abstract style, with the main features of formalism.[1] This is a professionally custom framed and vaccum dry-mounted fine art poster edition of an original Zdzislaw Beksinski painting. Glass is included.This is a high quality custom framed & matted Print. The double mat adds depth giving the display a unique "looking through a window'' appearance. The print is bonded to foam core on a hot vacuum press. This bonding gives the print a perfect flat and smooth texture. This process also insures the print will never fold or fade with age or moisture. This wonderful display makes a thoughtful and original gift containing a classic vintage touch yet modern design, allowing it to fit alongside both modern and classic decor. BUY WITH CONFIDENCE. ALL OF MY DELICATE ITEMS ARE SHIPPED WITH A SPECIAL 3 LAYER PROTECTION SYSTEM.

[crazyexshipper]

✨️When you get this ask you have to put 5 songs you listen to, post it, then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positive vibes are cool)🎶

Thank you for allowing me to blabber about my current faves

Doomsday: my snowbaird brainrot can't let go of this song. It fits them so much, so I keep making montages of them in my head with this playing in the background 🤭

Nicest thing: another one for the snowbaird obsession. This song is coryo thinking about his feelings for LG (possessive much? But in a good way)

Right where you left me: not much of a TS fan but this hits differently. The song to play at my pity party

Break my soul: I'm a little bit dramatic rn because I have to go to the office 2 times a week (I miss you working from home). This song really boost morale

I could've been your girl: rediscovered this song some time ago. I used to listen to it so much, it's such a fun song

Sending this to everyone who sees it and wants to do it. Let's interact more, love u all my online friends 💙

[mareastrorum]

WIP Wednesday: The Fool and the Soldier, Ch. 9 (Shop Date)

The Fool and the Soldier is now up on AO3, updated every other Friday (usually). I'm aiming for Friday, but might bump to Saturday/Sunday this week.

Unfortunately, I'll have to bump this next update to next Friday, 12/22. Work has been insane. Like before, I don't want to rush and get something half-assed posted. Hopefully work calms down after the holidays and we'll be back on schedule.

I didn't post a WIP scene last week because all the ones I had ready were super spoilery! So I've posted both this WIP scene and a Meta post today as a treat. Enjoy!

See the directory for other TF&TS posts.

Why did it have to be shopping?

Fjord was ready to declare mutiny and take his chances facing Avantika, Vera, and Bouldergut head on himself, in the middle of the busy port, so long as it would mean an end to this asinine errand. He felt an itch all along the inside of his skin. They’d spent the better part of an hour checking in with the wharfmaster about repairs, then Vera briefly reported what she’d already stocked at each vessel before insisting upon accompanying Avantika for the rest of the day. They’d spent the next two hours stopping in shop after shop, making bulk orders for supplies and assigning a trailing crewman to finish the request or handle delivery, eventually dwindling down to the final four. To make things worse, the dear captain was a haggler, prolonging each of their stops.

Gods, if it wasn’t for the Nein counting on Fjord to keep the crew distracted, he would have gone for the combat option. Instead, he kept a courteous smile on his face and followed Avantika down the busy road. “So, what is it that we still need?”

“Thankfully, Vera’s already ensured that we’ve restocked on most supplies,” Avantika replied. “However, there are a few items I prefer to check myself, and some favors I need to call on.”

“I take it these will be necessary equipment for our next destination?” Fjord noted.

Avantika grinned, though she continued looking forward as she led the way. “Oui.”

That was Nuash for “yes.” Fjord only knew a few key phrases, though he hadn’t heard the Ki’nau language spoken much since he left Port Damali for Nicodranas. It wasn’t that Nicodranas necessarily disfavored Naush; it was that there were far more languages spoken there that he just hadn’t noticed it much during his stops.

Darktow seemed similar, with most speaking in Common, plus a background melody of Marquesian, Naush, racial languages, and another with quick consonants that he didn’t recognize. Everyone switched between multiple languages with ease, depending on who they spoke to. Most land-based locals spoke an airy mix of Common and Naush while most sailors stuck to Common with thick Marquesian accents. Now and then, a group of halflings, dwarves, or elves passed by, speaking in their own tongues.

This mix of cultures and languages was typical of the Menagerie Coast, though there were unique blends at each port. Novel but familiar, nostalgic and diverse, in every new place Fjord had encountered during his time as a crewman. Fjord had missed it more than he realized, and he wished more than anything that he could enjoy it without all this doomsday business hanging over the Nein. It was strange to be homesick for a home that wasn’t a single place. Stranger still to walk in a place that should be like home and to feel like an outsider despite a welcome.

After a time in silence, Fjord teased his regrowing tusks, not yet long enough to protrude from his mouth, but enough to bother his lips. “I presume we’re going to be divin’ at the Diver’s Grave, but have you done that before? I’ve got some experience. Perhaps I can make some recommendations.”

Vera tilted her head slightly to leer at him from the other side of Avantika. Bouldergut said nothing, still stomping along behind them.

“A few times,” Avantika answered coyly as they approached a storefront at the end of the docks. The front wasn’t a proper wall, mostly a giant gate swung open and locked against the side, with a massive furnace along the back wall and anvil in the center, and a counter up front. A blacksmith of some kind.

Before Fjord could ask anything further, Avantika immediately addressed the clerk. He sighed and kept silent so she could work. He’d heard of strange diving suits, leather and metal contraptions for exploring the reefs for shipwrecks. As far as he knew, they worked a few hundred feet down, but they required a pump and tubes to provide air. Not the most efficient way to explore the depths, but then, most people didn’t train for free diving like Fjord had at Driftwood Asylum.

As unpleasant as they were, Fjord let himself get lost in the memories of that terrible place rather than wait mindlessly. Sabian had also been an orphan there and one of numerous bullies that made his life a living hell. Half-orcs weren’t common in Port Damali, and they’d needled him for anything they could think of. Called him a foundling, insisting his parents must have abandoned him rather than died, and he did not have a memory to speak to either possibility. Made fun of his teeth, jeering that he was a half-beast for his tusks. Mocked his uneven skintone, that he’d been left to soak in the water and it was that the green had bled from his flesh.

When Vandran had shown up looking for recruits to join his crew, Fjord had jumped at the chance—and so had Sabian. Thankfully, the work kept them both so busy that Sabian either didn’t have the time to continue his bullying or found enough distractions that were more pleasurable. Those years were hard, without a doubt, but they were some of the best of Fjord’s life. Within a few months, Vandran took him under his wing, tutoring him in sailing, leadership, swordmanship, and generally just getting along with people. All the things a father would have taught.

Then, perhaps a year ago, Sabian blew up the Tide’s Breath in the middle of a terrible storm, killing everyone else aboard and sinking it to the depths.

There had been no lead up to it. No whispers of mutiny or dissatisfaction with Vandran’s leadership. They had left port a few weeks earlier, when Sabian could have left and sought other employment. The half-elf hadn’t even taken anything with him when he dove into the roiling waters just seconds before the explosion. No hints as to a motive. Fjord had first thought his own survival was sheer luck, but after waking half-drowned with the Sword of Fathoms in hand, it must have been Uk’otoa that saved him.

Then, how had Sabian survived?

That thought brought Fjord’s mind to a halt, just as it had all times it cropped up before. Why did Uk’otoa choose and save Fjord, a hapless sailor shipwrecked during a terrible storm? Fjord had seen a vision of Vandran standing over a corpse with the Sword of Fathoms in hand, and after Urukayxl, Avantika had claimed that he had been a chosen of Uk’otoa when she met him (though Fjord had lied that he didn’t know the man). If Avantika had been telling the truth that Vandran had forsaken his plan to release Uk’otoa, then maybe Uk’otoa had taken that chance to send the sword to a new chosen. But why did Uk’otoa pick Fjord, who was loyal to Vandran, instead of Sabian, who had betrayed him?

Maybe Uk’otoa didn’t think Sabian was worth of being chosen. But then what did the demi-god prioritize? Vandran and Avantika were both personable, driven, and had a strong commitment to whatever path they chose. Fjord did alright presenting that sort of personality since he’d started emulating Vandran’s attitude and speech, but—

Avantika interrupted those thoughts as she spoke, “Bouldergut, you can manage, yes?”

Fjord roused from his distraction to turn and see a goliath stop a pallet on spoked wheels behind them. Because of the decline, the man was behind the cart, his grip on a rope preventing it from rolling down the grade. The massive metal construction resembled a bell with strange metal clasps and hooks on the bottom rim.

Bouldergut grinned toothily. “Yeah, boss lady.” She took the rope from the goliath and slowly began down toward the ship, while the goliath rolled his shoulders and walked back behind the storefront with a grunt.

“The balancing weights are inside on the pallet,” the dragonborn blacksmith noted. “I suggest gettin’ a crane to lift it onto the ship. No gangplank’s gonna handle that weight.”

“Of course,” Avantika said as she nodded to Vera, who counted out some silver bars from Bouldergut’s pack and laid them on the counter. “Bouldergut, just guard it at the dock once you get back to the Squalleater. Don’t try to take it aboard.”

“Yes, Captain!” Bouldergut cried as she left.

Once they were on their way again, Fjord asked, “A diving bell? I wasn’t aware that anyone in Darktow was interested in salvage. Actual salvage, not ‘salvage.’” He emphasized with air quotes.

Avantika chuckled as she began leading Vera and Fjord away. “It is not a popular vocation in the Revelry, but there are a few crews dedicated solely to such ventures. Enough for the merchants to keep several useful items stocked. You said you had experience. Are you familiar with deep sea diving?”

“Can’t say that I am,” Fjord answered honestly. “Before I was a sailor, I did some salvage in shallow waters, but none at a depth requirin’ equipment. Just good ol’ fashioned lungs.”

“Yes, I know you have quite the capacity for holding your breath,” Avantika mused with a smirk. Fjord felt his face flush, and while he didn’t look, he could feel Vera’s pointed glare. “However, that would only last you minutes. The depths of the Diver’s Grave require more than skill.”

Fjord took the opportunity to dig. “You didn’t mention how deep we’d be goin’. Do you know, or are we gonna improvise once we get there?”

“The Grave is only perhaps a hundred, a hundred fifty fathoms deep,” Avantika explained. Fjord was only slightly taller than a fathom, and such a depth wasn’t considered deep sea—surprising for a location in the middle of the Lucidian. “Prone to storms, which is why there are many stories of wrecks and treasure to be found there for enterprising divers. Assuming that their own vessel does not join the ones below.”

“With the blessings of Uk’otoa, we have no such fear,” Vera added with conviction.

“Of course,” Avantika agreed.

“At that depth, we’ll need somethin’ for the bends, or else it’ll take much longer between dives,” Fjord noted. He’d heard horror stories of blood boiling, spasms, skin swelling, burning lungs—all symptoms of going too deep too quick and then rushing back up. Even free diving to only twenty fathoms had to be gradual, taking stops on the way back up to settle the change in pressure. He had a feeling his water breathing spell would take care of that, but he’d never told Avantika he had it, and it was one more way to delay.

To prolong the shopping.

“Ah, you are right, my quartermaster,” Avantika noted. “We should stop by the alchemist.”

Fjord nodded, swallowing his frustrated sigh. Godsdamnit, this had better pay off.

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

What are yalls end of the world predictions for 2021?

[the-evil-duckling]

The End Is Nigh

A few years ago, I scribbled a semi-philosophical writing in which I described my thoughts on the future of humanity. It was heavy thinking for a 17-year-old, but sitting around and thinking futile thoughts has always been one of my specialities.

While going through the old documents on my computer, I stumbled on it once again. I was, I admit, surprised at the quality of writing; I have a strong tendency to look back on my older works and cringe.

I thought of sending it to some philosophy magazine, or something of the like.

But that is not what I want.

I don't want my musings to be read only by the small group of people willing to pay for a certain magazine, all of whom already have their own pre-conceived notions on the subject.

I want my works - all my works - to be available freely to anyone who wishes to access them. And so I am posting it here, on this blog.

I do not expect it to have great success. I do not even expect a dozen people to read it all the way through to the end without getting bored. But if anyone at all out there thinks like me, I would want them to be able to read this.

___________________________________________

The End Is Nigh

"Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I have tasted of desire,

I hold with those who favour fire."

R. Frost, Fire and Ice

This is not a warning.

Warnings would have made a difference a decade ago, would have reshaped and rewritten all the history of the world a century ago – but this is not a warning. If any crimes are unforgivable, then surely we are all beyond redemption. A warning would serve no purpose now.

The world is changing. Drop by drop, all that once was is being reshaped into a cosmos of our making (not of our choosing, no, but then we humans are rarely content with the fruits of our labor), and all that it is become is but a mirror to humanity, more perfect and inevitable than any of our art.

They say you can’t stop progress, and perhaps that is the problem.

There are those today who wage a battle against climate change, seeking to save a species hell-bent on destroying themselves and all those they live alongside – a noble endeavour, but history is indeed nothing more than a series of noble failures. Global warming and climate change is a real concern, yes, but it seems likely that mankind will have graver problems than the rising sea waters in the times to come.

The world of humans today is a prosperous world, basking in its sunlit golden years – reminiscent indeed of the Age of Antiquity in Rome. The Mayans, the Anasazi… and us, their children indeed; the only thing that we learn from history is that we never learn from history. The problematique, as Aurelio Peccei put it, is not industrial pollution or global warming, but humanity itself.

"The experiences of the human race have been recorded, in more or less detail, for some four thousand years… We seem to discover the same patterns constantly repeated under widely differing conditions of climate, culture and religion…

If we studied calmly and impartially the history of human institutions and development over these four thousand years, should we not reach conclusions which would assist to solve our problems today?

For everything that is occurring around us has happened again and again before."

J.B. Glubb, The Fate of Empires

It shall all be clear in hindsight – we will look back and shake our heads and then do it all over again.

A large, diverse (and thus, polarised) population – such as, indeed, the United States of America – tired of imagined slights and resource partitions (caused by nothing more than a wholly predictable inequality between population growth and resource abundance), lashing out in violence and frustration against the ‘outsiders’, against immigrants and refugees who are far, far too common in a world that is smaller than ever. It is all too easy to imagine, all too easy to read it hidden in between the headlines of the daily newspaper.

But eventually, it will be the whole world – all the lands finally united as one in our own destruction (for it is a small world, after all) – and it will be as a bubble grown too large; the slightest tremor shall burst it.

Our advancements have brought the world together; now they shall bring us all down together, as well.

All roads lead to Rome in the end.

"Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,

Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.

But at my back in a cold blast I hear

The rattle of bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear."

T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

‘Mankind at the Turning Point’ (Mesarovic and Pestel, in The Second Report to the Club of Rome) enumerated the factors under control of the human population. In doing so, they outlined all that humanity needed to do in order to ensure true sustainable growth, not just economically, but also sociologically – it is hunger, and not starvation, that fells the mightiest civilisations. These instructions, if followed to the letter, could perhaps have saved our world in 1974.

Today, more than 45 years later, they will no longer suffice.

I do not say that mankind cannot save itself (and with it, the world).

I am merely saying that it will not.

The world will fade, not in utter destruction as is too often envisaged, but in nihilism and tiredness. An ignominious end for a race so proud and bright-burning.

The truth is that humans need divisions – if everyone belongs everywhere, then perhaps nobody really belongs anywhere. And as the borders between countries blur and the wheels of the Internet drag the continents closer together, humans (we sad, pitiful folk) create their own boundaries and imagine our own differences, looking for that final ‘us’ and that final ‘them’… and suddenly, it is two minutes to midnight on the Doomsday Clock.

It has ever been the role of the young to have hope, but today I find it too weighty a burden.

I can offer now no comfort, only the cold assurance of foreknowledge.

I said when I began that this is not a warning and it is not; this is a prediction. Footstep by footstep, the world is fading, and we are blind even as we look upon it.

Try to see how all that we do leads us further into this finality, to look at our everyday and see in it the grandeur of the doom that we have written for ourselves. Try to understand how the limit of our future is spelled in our ineludible history, and watch it all come together.

The end is nigh.

Try to appreciate the beauty of it all.

"The hearth has ebbed, its gleam and life’s sparks but

Memories against dimming eyes – what cast my mind, what hue my

Thoughts as I open the book of the fallen and breathe deep the

Scent of history?

Listen, then, to these words carried on that breath.

These tales are the tales of us all, again yet again.

We are history relived and that is all, without end that is all."

S. Erikson, Gardens of the Moon

[exvangelical]

getting dragged to church during an end times prophecy sermon oh fucking god

[miralines]

The Mechanisms’ Genders

Jonny: “young man,” but specifically the way an authority figure says it to someone in trouble

Nastya: lesbiam <3

Ashes: sold their gender at age 9 for a box of matches and a soggy stick of dynamite and has never once regretted it

Ivy: She has one somewhere, but good luck finding it in the massive labyrinth of other files she keeps

Brian: doomsday prophet

TS: only when it wants one

Tim: Yes

Raphaella: carefully researched every gender in order to construct her gender to be the most scientifically sound

Marius: whichever one is most comedically appropriate at the moment

[reilliane]

More lil bro aether pls 🥺

I GOT YOU LOVELY ANON, HERE, HAVE A LIL SOMETHING- IT'S- UM, angst with a hurt/comfort :D

TS(Traveler's Sibling)!MC clashing with the Heavenly Principles is a subject I've always thought of since MC came to Teyvat later than the twins did.

It came like a sudden judgement from beyond the celestial plane—a horrifyingly familiar array of cubes in crimson and onyx reaching past the clouds to descend. All in search for the third Outlander.

It was a sight he so feared to see after centuries.

He tried to stop her—tried to tell her that it's better not to engage in a fight with a dangerous entity such as the sustainer of heavenly principles.

He spoke of his fears.

“You mustn't! She's responsible for Lumine and I's separation-”

Good heavens, he pleaded—

“No, no, [Name], you don't know who you're up against-”

He shouted with all his might, begged past normalcy—

“Please, please, don't! [Name], you can't go-!”

Take me with you.

But his concern was ignored. And once again, a sibling of his was going past his reach.

“Sister!!”

No one was willing to help. For obvious reasons.

The clash of the divine against the outlandish was reflected in the skies, thundering with roars and illuminating with flashes. To those upon the surface, it was a sight telling of doomsday.

Lasting for an indefinite amount of time, he could do nothing but pace around in sheer apprehension.

The Archons he knew could only give their own wishes—prayers, even, which was funny. What would prayers do?

But he prayed. Oh, how he prayed to someone, anyone.

And when the battle was concluded in nine days' time, there was panic all around. The skies have stilled their flashes and the waters tamed their waves.

Everyone was looking for a sign. And it came.

A star, bright and [c], shot out from past the rolling clouds beneath Celestia, falling with the waning light.

Aether rushed back to Liyue when he saw where it has landed, the panic in his chest blossoming into an ungodly fear no one was able to talk him out of.

Paimon was but a wisp in the wind with how fast he was forcing himself to run. Even the sight of Lumine vanishing back into the abyssal stars upon his arrival did not bother him anymore.

“Ah, no.. !”

He was panting, he was heaving, high from adrenaline and hysteria that he was almost tripping over his feet as he approached the impact zone.

Beautiful wings of [c] that once sparkled as if they contained the stars themselves were flickering, in and out like a dying flame.

But what scared him the most was the unmoving body- and the ornate weapon a few feet away.

“[Name]!!”

Aether could not handle his own heart as he sped down the slope to turn his older sibling over, seeing an ugly color of red stain the front of her clothes.

He was seeing nothing but white and feeling nothing but panic.

Paimon's words entered his ear and exited through the other as he fussed.

“[Name], oh go- let's- let's go to one of the Statues, quickly, you need-”

A hand reached up to tousle his blond tresses, albeit weak, he could sense that she still had strength—and he almost burst into tears right then and there.

She's fine.

“I'll heal on my own, little brother, worry no longer.. she won't bother for now.”

[Name]'s whispers were so, so quiet as if she was on the verge of falling unconscious.

A miracle that was, maybe? Aether wondered as he just fell and allowed himself to be nearby his sibling, relishing in his relief.

[Name] always had been the strongest of them all—her powers weren't something to undervalue when she was at the crest of her might. She had gone against the Shogun with relative ease.

But still, the clash with the heavenly principles was different. And the fight he wished that wouldn't happen with [Name], happened.

That was the same being that divided him and Lumine, after all.

And he feared that perhaps the arrival of another Outlander wouldn't be overlooked with the same mercy. That maybe when [Name] falls back to Teyvat, she would be dispersing into stars.

But she's here, she's alive.

And that's okay.

The hand on his head continued its slow caress, the gentle fashion opposing the firm and rigid expression on his sister's angelic face.

It's okay, her eyes seemed to say.

“I will not perish until we are complete as a three again.”

Aether breaks into a silent cry.

He's okay.

[brooklynbutterflyarts]

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[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

fine then @skilatilu trans TommyInnit hc under the cut

- I love the LabInnit headcanon and hc Tommy as a clone of Philza, with just enough hybrid and human DNA to be able to gestate and grow like a normal child. Unfortunately for him, this left him human enough to have an actual biological sex (unlike pure angels like Philza, who are monosex.), though before puberty it was only able to be determined through like genetic tests (which Tommy had gone through a ton of due to being a lab rat).

- When Tommy was about three, Techno burnt down the lab he was imprisoned in (it was a government lab dedicated to unethical weapon experimentation). When Techno and Phil were looking through the rubble, they found this kid trapped in a cage covered in surgical scars and looking eerily like Philza, and Philza just immediately adopted him. Most of the records of Tommy’s experimentation survived (thankfully, as he has specific medical needs and stuff due to being a patchwork abomination of every species under the sun), so Phil read through them and assumed Tommy was a girl (though he doesn’t really get the concept of gender) and named “her” Clementine.

- Tommy didn’t figure out he was trans for a while, mostly due to being raised by an angel who doesn’t have a gender and his pig friend who doesn’t care (with supplemental help from a half fridge musician and his salmon wife). He always knew that the name Clementine didn’t fit him, though he did love it and much preferred it to being a nameless string of numbers like he used to be.

- He figured it out around the same time as Fundy and his friend Niki (ye i headcanon c!niki as trans for the reason of why not). They all started transitioning around the same time. Tommy very insistently tried to get Niki to choose Clementine as her name. He failed. (Tommy would have been around six or seven, Fundy would have been eleven, and Niki would have been nine)

- Tommy chose his own name, but Wilbur joked it was short for Tomathy and it stuck.

- It’s not too soon after that that the SBI found Tubbo on the side of a road, curled in a sopping wet cardboard box. They learnt through the confused rambling of a child that he was the child of some rich business man, was kidnapped for ransom but escaped, and had been sleeping on the streets for a while. They also found out that he’d named himself (”“Tuberculosis, ‘ts a pretty word, but you c’n call me Tubbo for short!”” the sopping wet seven year old explained proudly, not noticing the barely stifled giggles from Wilbur.) and that he was also transmasc. This isn’t relevant for now but it is important for later sorry.

- When Tommy was nine, he moved from Philza’s isolated cabin far away from danger to the Dream SMP, after being invited. (Tubbo was not, but he snuck in behind Tommy and no one had the heart to kick him out). Of course, soon he was followed by friends and family, and they built a nation and we all know what happens there.

- The L’Manburg war ends when Tommy is ten and peace lasts for two years, so it is when Tommy is twelve, nearly thirteen, that the Pogtopia vs Manburg war begins. Fundy ““accidentally””  does not notice when Tommy steals puberty blockers from him for himself and Tubbo, and definitely does not order more for them (because by this point he’s sixteen and on t already).

- As Tommy grows older, and turns thirteen, and then fourteen, he starts stealing from Fundy’s potion supply of testosterone because this is Minecraft and they totally can make hormone replacement in potions because that’s cool. Tubbo refuses it, scared to be found in possession of some (Schlatt had already found the hormone blockers he’d tried to hide, and slapped him and berated him. Schlatt assumed he was transfemme so it wasn’t as awful as it could be, but it was still pretty traumatic, so Tubbo’d stopped taking them, especially after he saw how Schlatt would misgender and deadname Fundy in private).

- After Nov 16th, Ghostbur potion master extraordinaire brew the hormone potions for Fundy and Tommy. (He’d brew them for Tubbo, too, but the idea was still a bit too much for him, and Tubbo had so much work to do he forgot anyway.)

- Look, I’m all for exile arc angst, okay, but I’m not writing Dream misgendering Tommy during exile. The only person allowed to be transphobic here is Schlatt and that’s because he already canonically is. But uh I’m actually writing a one shot about trans c!Tommy during exile and it’s at 3000+ words and I haven’t mentioned trans stuff in it yet I got too distracted by the angst.

- While Tommy was staying with Technoblade, Techno helped him brew up hormone potions.

- As Tommy sewed up his tattered clothes (with the help of Technoblade, on the days where his hands were too shaken), there was a split in his hoodie where he couldn’t find the right fabric to sew it up and make it look nice so Tommy sewed a trans flag patch over it. (The patch was later damaged through the explosions in Doomsday, and he replaced it with a patch from Tubbo’s old shirt, but Tommy’d totally sew on another trans patch if he had the time.)

- Tommy used to have his hair long as a child, even after he came out, but he cut it off before moving to the SMP, so no one would mistake him for a girl. He really liked it short, but it grew out in exile and he couldn’t be bothered to cut it. When he was with Techno, Technoblade would braid his hair up out of his face and by then Tommy knew no one alive on the SMP would be transphobic and he liked having it braided more than short (it reminds him of Techno and Phil), so he let it grow out again.

- Tommy knew he liked girls before he knew he wasn’t one, asked Wilbur what liking girls called, and Wilbur told him it was lesbian. Tommy didn’t realise that that was what girls who liked girls were called until he was about fourteen and was very confused why people were laughing at him when he called himself a lesbian.

- Tommy’s very insistent on being a Big Man, and insecure in presenting himself in any other way, despite being raised by Philza and Techno, who both don’t know about gender, and Phil’s probably never wore trousers in his life while Techno has a collection of gowns. This comes from when Tommy was little and being babysat by a family friend, Schlatt, who Tommy deeply admired. Schlatt’s... interesting opinions were one of the few contacts Tommy had with gender roles for a while, and Tommy deeply admired Schlatt and thought he was cool, so it influenced him a lot.

- The reason Tommy goes by Tommy Innit instead of his legal last name (Minecraft) is that after Philza asked Tommy for his new name, Tommy went “It’s Tommy, innit?” and began jokingly insisting he meant that it was TommyInnit instead of just Tommy as an injoke.

[thedalektables]

Falling Slowly

Written by  #whome  (TS)    

Tenth Doctor (M) 50to100k.

Temporarily separated from the TARDIS, the Doctor and Rose must adjust to living life on Earth while struggling with their feelings for each other, which are becoming much harder to ignore. Pre-Doomsday, and eventually AU after Doomsday. Now rated Adult for chapters 25 & 26, but the rest of the story can be considered rated Teen.

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[wordspin-shares]

Even though I've begun sharing my chapter-by-chapter playlists for my The Vampire Diaries fanfiction From the Sidelines as of a couple months ago, I have left that music out of context. Spoilers, I thought at the time. But it's more engaging when readers know which songs are assigned to certain scenes. There's added impact.

So, I've decided on a meet-in-the-middle approach: sharing the playlist with scene descriptions for every chapter at the end of each installment.

I've already made the necessary changes to the four already posted chapters on [FFN] and [AO3]:

theme song: small things, the audreys

chapter 1 soundtrack i. sun child, the vines — opening scene ii. good life, onerepublic — claire prepares for her first class of the new school year iii. where the wild roses grow, nick cave & the bad seeds, ft. kylie minogue — claire & damon meet for the first time iv. all that i'm living for, evanescence — claire jogs after a vivid dream v. you've got a friend, carole king — claire and sheila talk

chapter 2 soundtrack i. tail of the sun, stroke 9 — claire and carol lockwood talk ii. uncertainty, the fray  — claire and jenna talk at the coffee ground iii. pocketful of sunshine, natasha bedingfield — claire wakes up on the day of the comet iv. blue and yellow, the used — claire meets liz forbes in the town square and gets to sketching v. until..., sting — claire waltzes alone on the roof of her father's music studio

chapter 3 soundtrack i. the fire, imogen heap — claire's dream revisits her in class ii. love story, taylor swift — movie night with jenna iii. i've seen the signs, dana glover — claire recalls mentions of past animal attacks and finds newspaper clippings in her mother's research iv. a beautiful lie, 30 seconds to mars — claire arrives at the lockwood manor v. out of the shadows, sarah mclachlan — claire stands in front of guest registry vi. tonight and the rest of my life, nina gordon — claire and martin dance

chapter 4 soundtrack i. race you, elizabeth & the catapult — claire & sheila at wickery pond ii. what more do you want, plain white ts — at the high school car wash fundraiser iii. creep, radiohead — claire helps decorate the school for halloween iv. one more murder, better than ezra — claire talks to the girls at the punch table v. doomsday, murray gold — damon bumps into claire