#everyones going down

[kxkarot]

@iobartach A New Warrior For The Arena..

If someone told him that his daily life was about to turn more chaotic, he may have laughed. This was no laughing matter. This was life or death and it also meant if he failed, Earth would perish. He'd fought like hell when they'd shackled him, the collar around his throat is unbearably tight and at first he'd attempted to tear it right off. Only to then be warned of the power within it, an explosive device. It wouldn't be like shrugging off a ki blast, his mind has already begun calculating the best way to escape or better yet...tear this place to the ground. Gaze narrowed as he surveys the area. Multiple fighters, yet from the color of the platform beneath his feet and the other fighter to his right, it looks more like they're on a team. He can work with that.

He hears the other's warning, the comment thrown out as he stands, watching as waves of enemies descend upon them. Ranging from living to robotic enemies. He slowly digs into the depths of his soul, prying off the chains around the smoldering flame of rage that burns so closely to his heart and lungs. It expands as he breathes more into it. Failure means everyone dies. Failure means earth goes up into rock and dust. Failure equals his friends lives wiped away. Failure means his family dies. His sons. His wife. Fangs slowly gritting against one another as his lips pull back, revealing them fully as the growl rumbles in his chest, muscles bulge for a moment as his ki expands, the raging aura that flashes bright gold. Hair slowly spiking up as his onyx eyes flicker with the intense turquoise.

The transformation rips through his body, along side the rage filled scream. Propelling himself forward leaving cracks in the ground behind him, fist drawing back as he slams it into the chest cavity of one of the bots that looks exactly like the ones that had jumped him. Memories of a similar event, waves of robots, burns in the front of his mind as he continues to deliver blow after blow to the bot. Metal and wiring exposed to the air as he rips it's protective plating off with his bare hands and proceeds to rip out the components with the same hands. Golden furred tail lashes behind him as he rips the axe wielding arm off and promptly uses it to slam it down upon another opponent coming towards him. Speedy but not as fast as the opponents he's faced countless times before.

The carefully crafted peacefulness is gone. Kindness vacant from his eyes, rage and hatred burn in them. Fueled constantly by him recycling the memories of his other failures, the times he hasn't been enough. He can imagine vividly the look his eldest son had when gazing upon such rage back on Namek. They're not here. No one he's familiar with is here and he won't let kindness slow him down. He can't afford to. He can't. It hurts to give into such rage, it makes him sick down to his very core. He knows well how many would love to have seen this side of him. Unbridled rage and good guy act thrown aside. Oh he's sure if Vegeta ever hears of this he'll never hear the end of it.

He uses the faint amount of Ki he can sense in the other man, Instantaneous Movement near him, fists raised into a club to bring it down on the enemy's head, a metal giant of some kind, sending them crashing into the floor. To his partner in crime's mercy. He leaves him once more to his own devices to instead turn his attention when something launches at him. Claws digging into his body and drawing sparks of pain across his body. He slams into the floor and the alien seems to be gloating above him, reaching for him. "I'll send you to hell."

"You can go there yourself." The saiyan snarls, blasting the alien point blank with an explosive ki blast, watching as they soar backwards, flesh scorched beyond the point of recovery and slamming into another few fighters. He rises to his feet, no time to catch his breath, ducking and weaving more attacks and in some cases just stray explosions.

"Whats your name?" He decides to throw the banter out. Might as well.

[stil-lindigo]

lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)

if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.

--

no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.

I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.

I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.

If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[haemosexuality]

one step closer to being real

[adrift-in-thyme]

There’s something terribly poetic in the inevitability of events in EPIC. The choices Odysseus is given lead to no win situations. They aren’t really choices at all.

Kill a foe’s child or witness the death of your own. Sacrifice six men or sacrifice them all. Allow your crew to starve or watch as they slaughter sacred cattle.

Sacrifice your friends, your brothers, or give up your last chance at reaching home.

In the end, the result is always the same. He destroys himself

[egophiliac]

he did it! 🐍 and it only took...uhhh...well, there probably could've been less punches, but why hold back!

PUNCHES FOR EVERYONE

[lilislegacy]

random pre-school mom: you are such a good dad, picking your son up from school so often

percy: well, my wife and i switch off depending on our schedules. she’s here the other half of the time

random pre-school mom: that’s so generous of you!

percy, confused: uh, why? i’m his dad

random pre-school mom: it’s just so selfless! oh and your little boy is absolutely adorable. he’s the most precious thing i’ve ever seen!

percy: thanks, he looks a lot like his mom

random pre-school mom: but clearly those eyes come from you

percy: well, yeah. i mean, i am his dad

random pre-school mom, flustered: um, well, are you coming to parents night? i can show you around so you know where to go?

percy: my wife and i will be there, and we’ll figure it out. thanks though

random pre-school mom: *weird fake smiling*

[sangled]

don't let it sink in

[zennesaph]

this is how logic chess works right

[musubiki]

balor 🥰

[lesbianshepard]

tag where you're from if you answer and reblog

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ooh, you want to know what happens at the gay bar run by ex-pirates, ooh...You'll just have to read Tiger Tiger to find out...

(Inspired by this Disco Elysium comic)

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Eldritch/not-entirely-human Grunkle Stan stories have been eating away at my brain, so I have a silly little concept of Mimic!Stan.

He and his Mystery Shack are both mimics that lure tourists in as a literal "tourist trap" to gather and devour them! Since the house is alive, it raises a few (read: several) child safety concerns that lead to a LOT of rules to be created for Dipper and Mabel to follow when they eventually arrive, such as:

Be careful not to get lost in the winding hallways! The Mystery Shack is bigger on the inside, and you don't want to end up in the wrong areas.

Don't go through randomly appearing doors, they may eat you.

If you think you feel the walls around you breathing and the floor beneath you shifting, no, you don't.

If you think the walls feel a bit damp, you're imagining it.

Watch your fingers around windowsills! You wouldn't want to lose any of them.

Don't linger too long under the doorframes; it may start feeling like they are slowly constricting around you.

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)