#ill shut up and post the post now
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acornmaybe · 4 months ago
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been thinking about mice tea.
margaret turns into a mouse but peggy becomes a mink. so the default animal form varies between alters. quite cool
but what if its a Lot less distinct....
if youre confused about who's fronting can you take a sip of kemono tea and the animal the body changes into will tell you? will the tea get confused too?
i mean i dont think it will cause it cracks eggs when (im assuming) those eggs dont know of their transgender status but what if the tea is stupid and its magic gets fucked in this particular area.
hybrid animal?
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miothle · 2 months ago
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The Hanged Man Aventurine for HSR Tarot Collab!🌌✨
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rockore · 2 months ago
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WAKE UP BABE!!!!!ITS TLNM'S ANNIVERSARY TODAY!!!!! 22ND SEPTEMBER!!!!!LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO happy 7th anniversary to THE movie ever 🫶🫶
Hq ver
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dungeonmechoui · 9 months ago
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Unprofessional yuri save me.. save me unprofessional yuri.. (image description in alt text)
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lovesickeros · 1 year ago
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☆ even the gods bleed
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k
What was justice?
Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.
She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.
How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?
She does not know.
Perhaps she may never know.
What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.
It is a mockery of it.
She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.
The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.
Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.
For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.
Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.
She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.
She understands, now.
She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.
Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.
Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.
But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..
..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.
Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.
Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.
The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.
Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.
What does she have left to lose?
She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.
Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.
Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.
Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.
Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.
..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.
Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.
Probably.
Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.
Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.
Then again, neither was treason.
Well, first time for everything, right?
It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.
..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.
She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.
But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.
..How was she going to prove it?
An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.
And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!
After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.
The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.
She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.
"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.
She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.
"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.
"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"
She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.
"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"
Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.
To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.
Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.
She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.
The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.
"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."
She does not hesitate to agree.
"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"
He doesn't deign to respond.
It only makes her fume more.
Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.
"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.
She suddenly felt out of place.
..What was she supposed to be doing?
As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..
"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."
Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.
Neuvillette, for his part..
Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.
He cannot hear the rain, anymore.
..It must have stopped.
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somber-cryptid · 3 months ago
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he was so casual about losing an arm.
d'yall think kim rok soo had his limbs blown off before????
???
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shinythingsarecool · 4 months ago
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They gave me this spoon at a restaurant and
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I now refuse to believe Hezekiah wakely would use any other kind of spoon
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nightshadesz · 4 months ago
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sun and his itty bitty companion
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soranker · 2 years ago
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…..im wolfwood pilled atm 😆🤞
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gaumibear · 2 years ago
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Octo and sea snakey🐙🐍
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ybcpatrick · 1 year ago
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like i'm so fucking ill about it. the (shipped) gold standard was the last song they needed to play to have performed every single song off of folie à deux live at least once. the record that has caused them the most pain. the one that they avoided like the plague for over a decade after its release, save for i don't care and the occasional instances of disloyal order, what a catch, or 20 dollar nose bleed when they toured with panic! that one time. the one that patrick wouldn't even talk about, for the longest time. it got them booed visciously, it got them dissected by critics, it got them pelted with garbage and glowsticks at shows, it got them stressed and strained to the point of needing to pause all efforts as a band to make sure they could still stay FRIENDS in the wake of it, and now it is the only fall out boy record that they have played 100% of, INCLUDING lullabye and fucking pavlove. and the last song left was (shipped).
you can only blame your problems on the world for so long. i want to scream "i love you" from the top of my lungs, but i'm afraid that someone else will hear me.
(or, they used to be afraid. evidently, not anymore.)
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mx-legend-of-faye · 2 months ago
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Wild should be weirder /pos
Why do I say this, you ask? Because HE DIED. LET HIM BE A PARANORMAL FREAK OF NATURE.
It’s called the shrine of RESURRECTION for a reason, people!!
Let Wild have such a slow heartbeat it seems almost nonexistent. Let Wild speak to ghosts, not just the ghosts of his dead friends/fellow champions. Let Wild’s eyes glow in the dark. Let Wild be a freak of nature and I genuinely mean that in the utmost positive way possible.
Give Wild a couple ghostly attributes and let the chain freak out over them.
In fact, give me post totk Wild with long lasting effects from being LITERALLY DEAD FOR A CENTURY please and thank you. Because post totk Wild just gives that an extra level of weirdness and cool ghostly vibes and I love that for him and also then you can throw in post totk Flora who kept some of her dragon-y attributes.
They can be freaks (/pos!!!) together, and furthermore I think they deserve to be. Let Wild and Flora weird people out while they’re just there being the most lovable selves they always are. Creatures. I love them.
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nebulanightsky · 1 year ago
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Suddenly remembers their dark experiences with an alternate version of their counterpart
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graye · 9 months ago
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DAY 2: Romance
Consistency??? Sorry I've never met her, she sounds nice @owl-bones
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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 10 months ago
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You know, I can't ever get over the scene where V and Urizen merge. And it's not what you're thinking. It's not cause I was shell-shocked by it (I had it spoiled before playing tee-hee). It's not cause V and Urizen are (basically) never gonna show up again- IT'S BECAUSE VERGIL LOOKS LIKE A FUCKING NURSING HOME PATIENT THAT IS SUFFERING MEMORY LOSS.
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THIS IS THE FACE OF A MAN WHO IS CONFUSED AND UNSURE OF WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. Vergil was out here thinking he was gonna die but fate said, for the 8000nth time, "Fuck you bitch; live goddamnit~✨!"
Tell me I'm not the only one who just dies laughing every time I see this.
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"What- Where am I? Huh, our house looks a lot different than I remember... Why do I remember being dressed like an emo stripper- what is happening---- Oh hey, Dante and *probably* Dante's son." (100% believe that Vergil thought Nero was Dante's)
MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR
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humanmorph · 1 year ago
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"[high pitched and tinny] Let’s dive in. Let’s dive in. It’s time to dive in. Get ready to [audio distorts and slows] dive. Diiive. Diiiiie…" (The Road to PALISADE 20: City Planning Department)
so that's what i've been working on for the past 2 weeks! i wanted to draw something for this intro ever since i first listened to it (as a companion piece to my other gur drawing, though it of course ended up being way bigger in scale), but it only really gripped me about halfway through PALISADE ep 18. the next morning after that i listened to this narration on repeat for about 45 minutes and then made a big sketch on 4 sheets of paper at my desk at work.
anyways, i haven't listened to the new episode yet but i think i'm probably ready for whatever they're gonna throw at us with the next sortie. i'm gonna believe, against it all, in millennium break. for gur
(i recommend listening along while scrolling! + transcript btw. if anything is hard to read)
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